So, I Grew a Beard
Said beard.
No, I’m not starting a band. No, I haven’t changed my mind regarding hippies. I’m just growing my beard.
Why?
I don’t know. It could be a sort of mid-life crisis thing. It could be pure laziness. Again, I don’t know. It’s just a fucking beard.
However, people have their take on why I might grow a beard. All of the reasons seem to revolve around hipsters and indie rockers. Am I trying to be hip or fashionable? Again, the answer is “no.”
I just quit shaving during Thanksgiving break. That’s all.
Besides, when did hipsters corner the market on beards? Did they invent beards? Is there a law?
Man, I grew my first beard like thirteen years ago. That was way before hipsters was a thing. It made me look older, which helped as 22-year-me attempted to insure confidence in the parents of my first group of fifth-graders. I don’t know whether it worked, but I grew a beard anyway.
The last beard I grew was maybe ten years ago. Still, this way before it was cool to grow a beard. I’m not saying that I was a fashion innovator or anything, but I had a beard before growing a beard was cool.
I’ve grown a beard leading into the coldest months of the year. It keeps me warm. I don’t have to shave everyday. It’s just s beard.
There. I’ve said it. It’s done.
Now, maybe I should shave…
Gateway Beers (and Bands)
Image blatantly lifted from the blog I link to in the first sentence.
One of those beer and whiskey loving brothers[1] posed the following question:
Is Blue Moon good for craft beer, or is it a soul-sucking vortex of all that is good and holy?
Basically, the best selling “craft-style” beer[2] is Blue Moon. For the uninitiated, Blue Moon is hardly considered a craft beer. It is brewed and bottled by the monolithic Coors corporation, maker of all things rice adjunct-ed. So, crafty, Blue Moon is not. It is not the typical American industrial lager brewed with corn or rice, but that still doesn’t make it a craft beer.
However, that’s besides the point. Blue Moon’s status as mistaken craft brew makes it a prime candidate as a gateway to craft beer nirvana. Consumers who typically purchase cases of Budweiser or Coors, might take a chance on a Blue Moon. It’s light in color, not particularly offensive in flavor. So, it won’t scare anyone away. With some clever marketing, Blue Moon even feels like it could be a craft beer or the old-school “microbrew” to the craft beer ignorant. A beer with flavor that’s perceived as crafty might be a short jump to more ambitious brews, but I have yet to witness this effect. Let me illustrate…
Let’s just say that your PBR-guzzling bro orders the BM[3] at Friday’s or Chili’s or wherever BM is the most enticing option. He takes a swig (most likely from the bottle[4]) and holds the bottle out and inspects what he’s just dumped down his gullet. Cirtus. Bubblegum. This beer actually tastes like something other than beer.
“I might have to give some of these microbrews[5] a try.”
The night ends and eventually, your bro finds himself in the beer aisle with yet another case of PBR in-hand when he suddenly notices a display. On the display are some strange beers he’s never seen before tonight, before his craft beer revelation. They’re from exotic locales like Portland, San Diego, and Milton. The styles are even more interesting: India Pale Ale, Russian Imperial Stout, Saison with Brett. He realizes that these are the microbrews he was after. He drops the case and grabs what he thinks is a six-pack, only to find that it’s just a four-pack. That seems cool to him; this bro is low on cash after the trip to TGI Friday’s. Then he’s sees the price tag. “TEN FUCKING DOLLARS?!?”
Your bro carefully puts back the four-pack as if it’s his grandmother’s heirloom ceramic angels that he just super glued back together before she returns from the store. Then he eyes a bomber. “Hey, that’s like a forty. I love me some forties,” he thinks to himself. However, this “forty” is more expensive than the four-pack and has a cork in it. He nearly drops the beer before placing it back on the shelf, grabs his case, high-tails it out of the supermarket, and vows only to drink Blue Moon on special occasions, like eating at Chili’s.
And scene.
Of course, the vignette above doesn’t even address the surprise the craft beer curious experience when they do take a chance on a true craft beer. Imagine the same look the old dude with the bitter beer face from those ads in the early nineties upon a noob’s first sip of and IPA or DIPA in the neighborhood of 85+ IBU’s. Or think about that guy who drinks energy drinks instead of coffee because he doesn’t like the taste of coffee testing a big Russian Imperial Stout. Don’t even consider what happens when the craft beer ignorant try sours or Belgian beers. Forget it. This is not their father’s Blue Moon. If the prices don’t scare them off, the flavors will.
That’s why I think the best gateway into craft beer is…well…CRAFT BEER.
Take my gateway into craft beer, for instance. I started out on rice adjunct, industrial lagers like the rest of you. I tried to mix it up with a Rolling Rock[6] here, some Little Kings there, and maybe a Sapporo now and again. None of those beers satisfied and most imports of the day were skunked. Guinness and Sam Adams soon dominated my beverage choices by the end of college. After that, I often chose these beers or the periodic microbrew, thinking my palate was expanding but never really finding anything that challenged.
Then, the craft beer epiphany[7] happened.
I had ordered a sub sandwich to be delivered and figured I could wash it down with a beer. Of course, I didn’t really need a ton of beer, just a few before I settled in for the night. So, I sauntered down the street to the beer shop, the Pace-High Carryout. After looking around a bit, I noticed a cooler of these big beer bottles. Right at my eye level was a beer with a gargoyle looking back at me with the words “Stone Ruination IPA” etched on the bottle. I liked pale ales and the like and thought a couple of these bottles would do the trick for the evening. Plus, it seemed easier than lugging a sixer down the street.
Upon opening this beer and pouring it in the tumbler I once stole from a bar, the aromatic hops hit me like a ton of bricks. Then the huge malt backbone and tremendously intense hops pummeled my tongue into submission. How was this beer? Where had this kind of beverage been all my life? This was my gateway beer, not effing Blue Moon blandness in a bottle.
Of course, it took me a while to fully figure out this whole craft beer thing. It didn’t help that my local beer retailer had issues restocking their shelves. Either way, I was constantly in search of that big flavor and aroma Stone’s Ruination thrust upon me. The search never stopped, even after finding many, many fine craft beers. Bland beer did not make me a craft beer fan. Craft beer made me a craft beer fan.
The same goes for music[8]. My gateway band was Nirvana. Sure, I had flirted with the likes of U2 and REM, but it was Nirvana that exposed me to indie rock[9]. By the time I discovered Nirvana, they were no longer on Sub Pop, but Kurt Cobain and co’s feet were still firmly planted in the underground, choosing to tour with unknown indie bands, touting Dinosaur Jr on MTV and The Breeders in the pages of Rolling Stone.
I fell in love with indie rock because of indie bands, not bands marketed as indie or alternative. Bands who obviously came from and still supported the underground showed me a whole new world of music that corporate whores could not. Bands developed by major labels for the masses have never made me want to try out new bands the way indie bands have.
The point is that quality is not something one can fake through slick marketing or copying an aesthetic. You can’t beat the real thing, whether it’s music or beer. So, the next time you see your buddy reaching for the sixer of Blue Moon, direct him toward a Jolly Pumpkin Calabaza Blanca or Allagash White[10]. Or, really blow his mind with something else entirely, like an Arrogant Bastard or Maharaja. There’s no need to settle for the corporate thing that supposed to taste like the indie thing. Just go with the indie/craft product and we’ll all be happier.
Oh, and as an added bonus, there’s this.
Notes:
1The little one.
2Read “craft-style” as “blatantly ripping off good, hard-working folk trying to keep tradition alive while still innovating and stretching boundaries in order to keep beer real” as that’s really all macro breweries are doing by marketing “craft-style” beers. Check the ratings for such beers on RateBeer or BeerAdvocate. You’ll find that the copycats only resemble craft beer in marketing and image, not flavor.
3I used this abbreviation for Blue Moon on the Brothers’ blog comments and it was pointed out that a “BM” is also a bowel movement. Freudian indeed.
4Because if you drink mocro beer, you don’t care what it smells like. In fact, you may actually hate the smell. I always ask people who drink a good beer from the bottle if they would smell a rose through a straw. Drinking a beer from a bottle has the same effect. Why is drinking from a beer bottle so accepted, but if I drink straight from a bottle of wine or liquor, I’m a lush? Avoid drinking from the bottle if you want to enjoy the beer. Pour it in a glass.
5I use the term “microbrews” as this is what peopel mistakenly call craft beer. I don’t know when/where this started, but I remember first calling them “microbrews” back in the nineties. The problem with the term is that it insinuates that these beers are somehow just smaller versions of the larger macrobrews or industrial lagers. Aside from the crazy numbers corporate beer pushers produce, nothing could be further from the truth. Sure, the macros are big, but their beers are not. Craft brewers brew the biggest beers and they are anything but smaller versions of Budweiser et al.
6At the time, Rolling Rock was still a pretty small, regional brewery. I thought I was drinking a microbrew at the time. Little did I know how similar they were to the big boys. Eventually, Rolling Rock was bought out by said big boys. The rest is rice adjunct history.
7Just learned this term in an interview by one of my favorite beer blogger/Buckeye fans, The Beer Wench. Her interview of The Dude from It’s a Fucking Beer is a must read.
8Sorry. This is where my argument gets a bit week. I still contend it applies, but I’m too lazy to really make it work. I’ll tie it all up with a reference back to the beer. Don’t you worry.
9This is a bit unfair to REM as they were and have always been a true ally to indie rock. I think it had more to do with the fact that I wasn’t old enough nor possessed the ability to know about REM and the bands they came up with. For me, they were not a good gateway as they were presented as something so separate from the underground, unlike Nirvana.
10Seriously. If someone likes a Belgian-style white ale/witbier that much, they should try what the style is really supposed to taste like. If they don’t like that, they should try other styles…or just quit pretending to like craft beer with real flavor.
The Ten Best Albums of 2010
Or at least it’s a list of my favorite albums of 2010. Although the year as a whole wasn’t totally impressive, I was able to create a list of twenty albums and narrow them down to the following albums that defined my year.
Along with some words that describe the records’ appeal, I’m including a beer pairing as well as a band or album that fills a similar slot on every year-end-best-of list. For example, I might list The Beatles’ White Album on a list of best records of 1968. The beer pairing might be a Hitachino White Ale or Boulevard Smokestack Series Wit[1]. The Best-Of Cliche might be Pavement’s Terror Twilight as it was recorded under the ominous and inevitable sense of the band’s demise[2]. Neither pairing works perfectly, but I’ll try it anyway.
Keep in mind that like all best-of lists, the listmaker’s life should provide context for the choices. I’m 35, married, living in the nation’s belly button, and a parent. So, my lifestyle is pretty slow. I have life experience that feeds into my music taste, but the busy parts of family and work keep me from being as in touch with music as much as I used to be. That said, I’m including reasoning why I chose each album on this list.
Now for the list. It is in order. I did cut out 9-10 good albums. And I stand by my list.
10. Pavement – Quarantine the Past
To kick off their 2010 reunion tour, Pavement put together what has to be the greatest greatest “hits” compilation ever. I mean it. Of course, there isn’t much to compare. That Doors greatest hits albums was pretty good, right? Smashing Pumpkins? Never mind. If you want to introduce someone to Pavement, give them Quarantine the Past. They’ll do the rest from there.
Why a 35-year-old dad likes it: This is my band. They did nothing to ruin my view of Pavement by writing and recording new material. They just made me a nice mixed tape of all the songs I loved and a few I forgot.
Slot typically held down by: The Beatles have received good press for releasing crap they already sold us forty years ago. They’re about the only ones.
Beer Pairing: Bell’s Expedition Stout – Warming, rewarding, solid stand-by and good in ice cream.
9. Broken Social Scene – Forgiveness Rock Record
Teaming up with Sam Prekop was genius and only the tip of the alt world connections Broken Social Scene seems to be making these days. They’ve used recent success and notoriety to record and perform with their heros[3], just what we’d all like to do if we could. And from this and other collaborations, BSS reinvented itself as a live band with subtle chops only viewable from Chicago or Toronto. What a cool album this was. It’s nice that the band reached this point before calling it quits.
Why a 35-year-old dad likes it: Old dudes like finding cool bands that both appeal to our college years selves as well as stretch our visions of a band. I thought I knew BSS as a rather safe band, but this record proved they can reinvent and be successful while doing it.
Slot typically held down by: The Afghan Whigs gave in to their influences as they progressed from album to album, but it never kept them off year-end lists entirely.
Beer Pairing: Odell’s Saboteur is the brown sour you can drink. It doesn’t always impress the beer nerds who want to pucker to the point of not being able to swallow anymore, but it does satisfy the thirst for sour without losing drinkability.
8. Best Coast – Crazy For You
This formula worked a lot in the 1990’s. A hint of retro over tape his disguised as aesthetic, one great track mixed in with several passable ones, all performed by your indie rock crush…That was basically the Breeders circa 1994, but whatever. Your crush singing about kush and her cat with a grunge dude playing bass just works. Wall of sound and tape hiss always sounds so good.
Why a 35-year-old dad likes it: Did you read my description above? Anything that simultaneously reminds me of mid-nineties lo-fi, girls I had crushes on, and the Breeders[4] has to work for me.
Slot typically held down by: Liz Phair sounded like she was singing about you in your bedroom while you were out. For that reason, you put her on best-of lists for probably one album too many.
Beer Pairing: For something light but enjoyable, I look to The Bruery’s Saison Rue. I can totally imagine sipping on this beer one July evening while Crazy For You plays over the song of mid-summer crickets.
7. Quasi – American Gong
Regularly dismissed and always forgotten, Quasi are the Bad News Bears of indie rock…or something like that. I don’t know why Sam Coomes was overlooked when he played with Elliott Smith. Janet Weiss is just a drummer (for the mother-effing Jicks and god damned Sleater-Kinney). They get no respect, but they make great modern era blues and now they have the guitar-based licks to prove it. Gone is the Rocksichord and here is a little blues guitar and a bassist. The sound is new, more menacing than before, but it’s perfect nonetheless.
Why a 35-year-old dad likes it: I had a place in my heart for Quasi a long time ago and have stuck with them through the years. They described all my post-college angst when I needed someone to spell it out for me. Without their help, I might still be in that funk.
Slot typically held down by: Quasi is like a Meat Puppets or some other semi-obscure indie band who gained just enough of a following to make it worth while to put out a record once in a while that is typically ignored but heralded by a few.
Beer Pairing: Mikkeller’s Rauch Geek Breakfast is a smokier, dirtier version of the rather popular Beer Geek Breakfast (now with weasel poop coffee!). It’s dark and sweet and somehow smoky at the same time. A perfect pairing for Quasi’s adventures in bluesy dirge.
6. Let’s Wrestle – In the Court of the Wrestling Let’s
Merge finds another gem we all missed. Juvenile, punky, and surprisingly sonic, Let’s Wrestle put out one of the least talked about good albums on a respectable label I’ve heard in a long time. I don’t know how so many missed this record. Sure, most reviews I read were tepid, but no one is even talking about this band. The record is good and at the very least a fun listen.
Why a 35-year-old dad likes it: Maybe the best song of the year (Let’s Wrestle’s “I Won’t Lie to You”) somehow found its way onto a compilation for my kid, created by her aunt. I heard that song maybe 500 times this year and it never gets boring. If a song meant for my kid is that enjoyable, I have to give it a listen now and then. It was only natural that I bought the album, even if it only came on CD.
Slot typically held down by: Though I love this record, I suspect they will be this year’s Harvey Danger. That band put out an enjoyable single as part of an entertaining album that I’ve pretty much ignored ever since. Still, at the moment of writing a best-of list, it makes the cut.
Beer Pairing: Ken Schmidt/Maui/Stone Kona Coffee Macadamia Coconut Porter is not my typical beer of choice. It’s probably never going to be brewed again. I may have even conveniently forgotten how mediocre it could have been. No matter. The one night I sipped on this great beer will occupy the same space in my heart as Let’s Wrestle. (I also considered my own sticky DIPA, Wowee Zowee, because of its fleeting magnificence.)
5. Deerhunter – Halcyon Digest
Whatever you do, don’t get in between Carrie Wade and her Cox. Just sayin’[5]. That and don’t ignore Deerhunter just because they do a listenable album. Sure, they’re experimental, lo-fi, and shoe-gaze, but the band crafts good songs. Just except it. This band is a mainstay on any year-end list. I don’t think they can make an uninteresting record. They could do bad, but I doubt they can do uninteresting.
Why a 35-year-old dad likes it: Sometimes we dads, formerly of the indie rock jet-set, like to fashion ourselves as ahead of the curve. And after reading one Pitchfork article on a band like Deerhunter, we think we know everything. I mean, Deerhunter and pretty much anything Bradford Cox touches convinces us of this fact.
Slot typically held down by: Animal Collective makes records like Deerhunter. They have their side-projects, but the core group does their best work together. They’ve always got that to fall back on. It’s sometimes sloppy and terribly unconventional while being danceable at the same time. How can anyone leave these bands off a year-end list?
Beer Pairing:Lagunitas Hop Stoopid is what it says it is. Why you refuse to pay $4-5 for this monster hop bomb is beyond me. It’s so yummy and cheap. I’m not sure how it pairs with this record, but I want to drink one right now.
4. Beach House – Teen Dream
I tried to like this band once, but it didn’t work. Then, I kept hearing how great this record was. Like several of my favorites this year, I saw/heard them at Pitchfork and was blown away. What a great sounding band Beach House is. Organs, guitars plucked, and that sexy, voluptuous voice. They are slow and sleepy, but the band filled the entire park with a spooky cloud of sound one could not escape and who wanted to?
Why a 35-year-old dad likes it: This is either what we all wanted Cat Power to sound like or we still just miss Mazzy Star that much. Seriously, this is what Chan Marshall could have sounded like had she been able to handle her drugs and drink. Now, it’s too late and she’s a bit boring. Mazzy Star is long gone, but Beach House has filled the void for those born in the seventies.
Slot typically held down by: Portishead or some other female-fronted band that mixes a touch of retro with something new to find their way into every budding male feminists’ dorm room by the end of freshman year.
Beer Pairing: I recently had a Schlafly Reserve Imperial Stout at a local restaurant. I liked the beer already, but was eager to try a vintage that happened to say “2007”. The three years in bottle had been kind to the beer and kinder to us. The bourbon was there as well as notes of chocolate and coffee and molasses. A forgotten treasure revealed itself to improve with age.
3. Arcade Fire – Suburbs
This album is not about the suburbs. It’s about our suburbanized perspective on everything and anything. We are limited by the homogeny encouraged by structures such as modern, American suburbs. Even when we think our perspectives differ, we’re really just taking on the viewpoints of our neighborhoods. Arcade Fire challenge these limitations and in anticipation of your assessment, they call you out as well for your cynicism and lack of imagination. So, you hate Arcade Fire for their elitism, their thematic simplicity, and for sounding like Bruce Springsteen. However, you all missed the point. Sure, Win Butler uses the words “suburbs” and “sprawl” ad nauseam, but those are just code for “complacency” and “group-think”. Come on. Wake up. No kids died in a fire playing Pac-Man during the recording of this record. Relax and just enjoy Arcade Fire before they’re gone.
Why a 35-year-old dad likes it: Arcade Fire are our U2. Sure, they’re annoying and a bit pretentious, but their my annoying, pretentious band. I don’t think Funeral is that much better than Neon Bible and I don’t think either are that much better than Suburbs. They’re all different albums that should be appreciated on their own. That and they’re not all about the suburbs. I didn’t grow up in the suburbs, so I don’t have the foggiest idea what that’s like. However, I somehow don’t think everything has to be about that sort of upbringing. This record can have meaning for those of us who grew up in rural Ohio. You suburbanites got John Hughes movies, let us have our Arcade Fire.
Slot typically held down by: Arcade Fire.
Beer Pairing: Mikkeller did this beer called 1000 IBU. The human is thought to only be able to sense something around 100 IBU’s (international bitterness units). The beer was thought to be over the top and just a stunt. It was expensive and came in fancy packaging. I loved it. Never could I have imagined as good a beer as this one. I don’t know that it’s my favorite of all time, but it’s pretty damn close and it’s at least a good talking beer. That is, when you’re done talking about how much the suburbs suck or something.
2. Sufjan Stevens – The Age of Adz
I truly got this record after reading about Royal Robertson, the schizophrenic, misogynistic, zealot-level religious fanatic, outside artist who painted his pain in the form of science fiction spaceships carrying God to earth. And that about describes the insanity that is The Age of Adz. Knowing this background along with Stevens’ struggles with faith and his own health provide the context where a cluster-fuck like this actually makes sense. Some have issues with the 24-minute final track, but it’s one of the most complex love songs ever and it all comes out in the wash by the end. Besides, everything before that is this shy of genius.
Why a 35-year-old dad likes it: Even though I’m not religious, I appreciate a little religion in my life. I do the major religious holidays out of a sense of tradition. I want my kid to understand a religious point of view and come to her own conclusions, not mine. She loves “Chicago” and “The Perpetual Self, or ‘What Would Saul Alinsky Do?'”, so why not just send her to the church of Sufjan Stevens?
Slot typically held down by: Radiohead’s Kid A came on the heels of Radiohead’s greatest triumph and it completely destroyed their brand. The reinvention was accepted by few and rejected by many, but it confused everyone. Eventually, the genius of Kid A was realized, prompting many to include it on year-end lists or retroactive all-decade lists after some time and context had passed. Even with the seismic change in aesthetic, the album is still unmistakable as a Radiohead piece.
Beer Pairing: A 2007 New Belgium La Folie made an appearance at a recent Colorado beer tasting. Noses turned up, mouths wrinkled, beer geeks cringed. The wet horse blanket of a beer was too much for some, nearly undrinkable. I found the beer complex and fascinating. I would have had more had there been more available. La Folie isn’t the same in their new flashy bombers as they were in the simple 750-mL bottles circa 2007. It’s an acquired taste, the La Folie, but certainly worth the acquisition.
1. The Walkmen – Lisbon
The Walkmen don’t make bad records. They just don’t. They dress well. Their consummate professionals. The Walkmen are a reliable lot and this record is nor different from past efforts. It sounds like a mid-August evening, just before schools reopen. I can hear evenings on the deck, sipping on a cold one and avoiding mosquitos. The album is warm, comfortable, and friendly. It moves the listener to move. It’s just a quietly great record and I’m ashamed I haven’t sung its praises until now.
Why a 35-year-old dad likes it: This is my band of the century. They describe my nights out, nights in, and all the nights in between. They know my break up stories as they are their own. If they drink beer, they drink the same beer I do. The Walkmen are my current Pavement and for this I have no other option but to perpetually place them at the top of the heap.
Slot typically held down by: They are Wilco but without a Yankee Hotel Foxtrot to their resume…but also without a Sky Blue Sky. Wilco is the older, more midwestern version of The Walkmen, a band we look forward to drinking with someday, a band that will play the songs we want to hear. Wilco always finds a way into the conversation, so do The Walkmen.
Beer Pairing: Goose Island Nightstalker is as smooth and tasty an imperial stout as you’ll ever have. It’s elegant but blue collar. It’s big city, but warms you as you sit looking across corn fields or verandas or whatever The Walkmen see when they write those songs. Sip on this with Lisbon playing and you’ll understand both.
How did I leave the following off this list? Maybe I should return my indie cred to the record store where I found it.
Titus Andronicus – The Monitor
Maybe the best record about both the Civil War and moving from Jersey to Boston ever screamed.
Liars – Sisterworld
Most sinister album of the year with a touch of punk made me want to drink nothing but beers brewed in bourbon barrels and ash trays.
Here We Go Magic – Pigeons
Inventive, unique, and sounds just like Talking Heads. Still, this is what Secretly Canadian sounds like in one band.
And these…
The Tallest Man on Earth – The Wild Hunt
Wolf Parade – Expo 86
Los Campesinos! – Romance Is Boring
The Soft Pack – The Soft Pack
The National – High Violet
Spoon – Transference
Corin Tucker Band – 1,000 Years
I know some of you hate my list, but your only choice is to post your own and link back to mine. Do it. That and I dare you to pair beers with your albums.
Notes:
1Also pairs well with fish.
2Not really, but hang with me.
3Pavement, Dinosaur Jr, Sea & Cake, etc.
4See Head to Toe EP.
5Britt Daniel, I’m looking your way.
Unfinishe
As suggested by Steve, I’m posting the beginnings of several posts I’ve started over the past couple of weeks but never finished. There were more, but I deleted them. Honestly, most of this is shite (as Steve might say) and I haven’t read it since first typing it just to get something down. The only one I may still finish is the last one.
Ridicule me as usual…
I don’t tend to write much about TV since I don’t watch much TV. Aside from a small handful of shows and some sporting events, I find TV to be pretty detestable. So, when it was announced that Dogfish Head’s own Sam Calagione would be hosting a show on Discovery, I took notice.
The show premiered a week ago and people had various takes on the program. The beer nerds in my circle mostly hated it, but I think they just wanted a show for them and not the typical Discovery Channel viewer. Twitter was mostly aflutter with glowing praise, but what else can you say in 140 characters about a TV show without coming off as a punk-ass Farker? And the blogospere was primarily taking bets on how long the show will last.
What’s missing is whether or not this show will prove to be good for craft beer. Like when indie kids lamented Nirvana breaking on MTV, beer nerds everywhere are worried their obsession will become no better than the watered-down, rice adjunct-ed swill they’ve rejected for so long. However, like the grunge kids, beer nerds need to relax. Brew Masters will not ruin craft beer. If anything, it should do the industry and community some good. Nirvana breaking big sure produced a lot of copycats for major labels with which to pollute the airwaves, but it also made a much wider range of music available to the average listener. There are still crappy bands, but we would have never heard so many great bands without Nirvana’s breakthrough. Brew Masters is craft beer’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” or something like that.
Brew Masters is not made for beer nerds. Beer is but a medium for Discovery to tell a story. Sam Calagione is their protagonist, a compelling one at that. The show will spend an inordinate amount of time on the marketing of beers, trips to find new recipes and ingredients, and basically all the extraneous details that will go into brewing Dogfish Head beer. In other words, the show really isn’t about the beer. It isn’t a demonstration of advanced brewing methods for us to geek out on. The show probably won’t tell us anything we all didn’t already learn about Dogfish Head that we didn’t already know. I mean, craft beer is 5% of the beer market. I suspect homebrewers even make up a smaller percentage of the beer-consuming community than that. If Discovery were making this show for us, they…
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This will possibly be the most overused Thanksgiving meme/theme of the day, but I don’t care. I’ve had trouble coming up with blogable topics and thought this might be an easy way to get going. Besides, there is really so much that I’m thankful for this year. Here are just a few of those things…
Waffle House – It is a Thanksgiving tradition for us to go to the Waffle House for breakfast before we get our cook on. Sure, the food is only moderately good, but we are all entitled this one indulgence. Besides, most decent breakfast joints are closed on Thanksgiving and we need to load up since we won’t eat until 5 or 6. The Waffle House fills those needs and provides a base for all the beer I’ll drink.
St. Bernardus Abt 12 – Typically, a nice Saison would ideally pair well with Thanksgiving turkey, but we smoke our bird. A Saison won’t stand up to the charred smokiness of our turkey. So, I turn the notch up and pour this perfectly balanced Belgian dark abbey ale to counter the strength of our main dish. Sure, there will be DIPA’s and imperial stouts poured before and after dinner, but St. Bernardus is our patron saint of the smoked turkey.
iPod Mixes – Every year, I attempt to mix some songs or simply throw albums-worth of music into a playlist that lend itself to the brisk autumn weather and a harvest time feast. In the past, Nick Drake, Feist, and José González among others have dominated the soundtrack. This year, it’s looking as if Sufjan Stevens and The Walkmen will be joining the fun. Plus, I may have to play a whole heaping serving of Pavement as this is likely the end of the road for my favorite band. At least I saw them two more times this year…
Buckeyes – All kinds of Buckeyes make me thankful this year. The horse chestnuts have brought me luck – I just haven’t been able to figure out what that luck has been. I’m making my own version of the candy sort, using high-end chocolate (without paraffin), natural peanut butter, and fleur de sel. It should be a good topper to Thanksgiving dinner or something good to munch on while I cheer the third sort of Buckeyes as they play their greatest rival this Saturday. I hate that team up north, I won’t even dare to mention their names on this blog. Just know that my Bucks are looking for their sixth straight conference championship, sixth straight win over their rivals (nine out of ten), and a shot at another BCS bowl with a win Saturday.
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There are moments in life that define who we are. Hopefully, those moments are mostly positive, but some can be negative as well. These moments in our lives help define who we are, what we’ll become, and how we’ll be remembered.
For me, I can think of a few such moments. None were earth-shattering for anyone who’s not me, but they have defined who I am. There was the basketball game in 8th grade where I nailed the winning free throws on the same week I learned a new technique for shooting from the charity stripe. There was the night I was recognized for my service to a YMCA camp, earning an award that had only been given to one other individual in the camp’s 80-year history. There was the birth of my daughter.
All of these moments shaped me in one way or another. It was all mostly good.
Sometimes, these moments happen to one person who shines and defines his/her legacy. My Ohio State Buckeyes experienced one of those moments this weekend, specifically their über-hyped quarterback Terrelle Pryor. Pryor seemed to be melting down as usual against a tough opponent. His third-quarter interception set up the Iowa Hawkeyes for the go-ahead touchdown.
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This one’s been on my back burner for a while. It seems every time I turn around, another alt/indie band from my (post)youth is reuniting for a tour or single show at some festival. I guess it means a couple of things: 1) I’m getting old and 2) indie rock really is successful.
One band that is regularly absent from the list of upcoming tours and re-issues is Archers of Loaf. They often come up in pieces where bands list their favorite bands or are included in cover opportunities on influential websites. They were all the rage for anyone in the mid-nineties between Pavement and Superchunk releases. Their live shows were proof that punk was not yet dead. They were fucking Archers of Loaf.
It all started for Loaf in 1990, but their first album didn’t come out until 1993. The hugely influential Icky Mettle had to have been one of the three most dubbed-to-cassette-tape albums of the 90’s. I had Icky Mettle and AoL’s follow-up Vee Vee on opposite sides of a tape that I wore completely out. I acquired my copies of their first two albums around the same time I saw the band for the first time. An Archers of Loaf live show was a thing of…
Making Lists
When a blogger is struggling for material[1], his best friend is the list. Just come up with a list of best/worst of or whatever, and you’re bound to produce a coherent message and definitive opinion surely to strike up a conversation[2]. When they’re good, the comments fill, Facebook notes are written in response, and traffic numbers spike. Even when the list is dumb or lame, there is sure to be no less than five comments[3].
The list is my slump-buster[4] as it were. I haven’t posted in over two weeks for various reasons. Someone contacted me and asked me to post a top-ten records of the year. So, I’m working on that. When we’re all done, a bunch of us will post it on Tumblr or something. In the meantime, I have a list to create.
Making a fine, thought-provoking list requires several things. First, there’s the preliminary list off the top of your head. If you can just think up items to include on a list without any reference, said items probably deserve at least some consideration. Of course, something will be left off and it behooves the list-maker to search out some forgotten gems before submitting the final draft.
As mentioned above, I’m sorting out my list of top ten albums of the year[5]. In the past, I’ve asked others to make my lists or have written lists for the number of days in December and beyond. Sticking to ten requires commitment and no fudging. I will pick ten, no more or no less. It will be ten definitive albums for 2010. Of course, one will have to take this list into context. I am a working stiff in his mid-thirties with a two-year-old[6]. So, my scope is a bit limited despite my credit card debt and hours logged at P4k this year. That said, here’s the preliminary list with which I’m working, eventually to chisel down to ten. Let me know where I’m going wrong and what’s missing[7].
The Walkmen’s Lisbon was not an obvious choice on first listen, but it has grown on me. No other band sounds like mid-August quite like the Walkmen do on their last two albums. Hazy evenings. Crickets. Drinks on the deck. I am a bit biased when it comes to this band[8], but they are incapable of making a bad record.
Deerhunter’s Halcyon Digest has honestly not received the attention it probably deserves, so this one is still under review. However, knowing Bradford Cox’s typical output, I will find something that will sneak Halcyon Digest into the top-ten.
Pavement didn’t release a proper album of new tracks this year. What they did do is answer my prayers with a reunion tour and released maybe the single greatest best-of album I’ve ever heard[9]. Besides, how could I leave my favorite band off the list, especially with them in the name of this blog?
Arcade Fire’s Suburbs is the safe call, but is it too safe? This album is solid from front to back and possibly the group’s most complete effort thus far. Sure, it doesn’t have the hits like on Funeral or the complimentary pieces of Neon Bible, but it is something neither of those albums could be. Sometimes, the most obvious pick for a top-10 list is the best one.
Let’s Wrestle snuck into my consciousness through a compilation created by my sister for my daughter[10]. That and their name comes from a Joan of Arc line I can’t believe I haven’t tattooed on my arm yet[11] makes them all the more enticing. In the Court of the Wrestling Let’s is maybe my surprise hit of the year as I had discarded any pop-punk from my collection long ago. It’s juvenile and poppy, but I love it. It’s easily my sing-along album of the year.
The Tallest Man on Earth just sounds like Dylan if he were still around[12]. The Wild Hunt is something fresh, something new in a very familiar package of rhyme, grainy vocals, and acoustic gee-tar. That’s hard to do and should be appreciated whenever we hear it.
Liars’ Sisterworld is dark and brooding and somehow punk. I can only listen to this record once in a while, because it angers me so. It’s good to reserve a place at the table for such a record.
Broken Social Scene disappointed some with Forgiveness Rock Record. For me, the band has taken on a new persona after seeing them a couple of times in the past couple of years. Before that, they were always a studio band for me. Then, once I put a face to the group, I began to hear them more sonically. This is the record that brings the live show to fruition. It’s their Wilco album[13].
Real Estate’s self-titled debut sat on my shelf for a bit, but then I heard the band live and gave them another chance. It’s a nice gem among the P4k’d crap. I don’t know that it will make the final 10, but it deserves a mention. Update – I just realized Real Estate was released last year. So, I only have to eliminate nine records.
Wolf Parade’s Expo 86 is another one of those albums that disappoints, but I’m not entirely sure why. It’s more complete, coherent than previous releases and therefore is often seen as boring or conventional. I don’t know how long it will stand the test of time, but it’s here, on this list for a good reason.
Best Coast gets ripped daily on Hipster Runoff. So, I was ready to write them off before even listening to a single track. Then, I caught them live. This is a nice record that fits well between my stacks of mid-nineties indie rock[14].
Beach House lost me with their first two records and I didn’t want to bother with this one, but that was my problem. Again, seeing the band live helped me get them and for that I’m thankful. There’s not a bad track on this record. That’s just not done anymore.
Here We Go Magic was suggested to me and I listened. I listened a lot, but then I became busy with other records. So, before this one makes the list or doesn’t, I will have to listen to it again[15].
Los Campesinos!’s Romance Is Boring is pretty fun and probably deserves a spot next to Let’s Wrestle. It’s good that the Brits[16] are listening to our indie rock and doing all they can to replicate it. This has worked out well for them (the British) in the past (see The Beatles, Rolling Stones).
The Soft Pack used to be Muslims before converting[17]. The result was a pretty angry record with intense focus and drive. The anger is felt and the focus and drive carry the record from start to finish. I don’t know that it will make the final ten, but it’s good enough to be considered.
The National’s High Violet is either the year’s best record or the best Coldplay record. I can’t decide.
Quasi is the Rodney Dangerfield of indie bands, make that indie super bands. American Gong will make no one’s best of list and that’s a shame. For that reason, it may have to make mine.
Sufjan Stevens’ The Age of Adz is all I listen to at the moment. For that reason, it deserves consideration. Also for that reason, I need to step away to see if I’ll feel that way forever.
Spoon’s Transference is not the greatest Spoon record ever. Of course, 99% of the bands out there would love to make an album this good. I will have to think long and hard about this one[18]. I may leave it off, because, well, I have to leave something out.
Corin Tucker Band is a bit of a surprise in several ways. First, I never thought Tucker would do a solo project outside of parenting and whatever she currently does for a living[19]. Second, this record is so not a Sleater-Kinney-light record. Third, Corin Tucker can write a good song. I don’t know why all this surprised me. I think I just saw Tucker as a piece in Sleater-Kinney, something that was greater than its parts. I need to listen some more, but this album is streaking down the stretch.
A conversation on Facebook has me considering The Badus Band, Disappears, Weekend, Scarecrow Frequency, Jim O’Rourke, Born Ruffians, Tame Impala, Screaming Females, and Double Dagger. However, I doubt I will have time nor money to listen to all of those releases before my final list “goes to press”. So, in the meantime, comment on what you see here. Am I missing something? Am I way off on something? What should my final ten look like?
As always, comments are welcome and the footnotes explain so much more about my thinking.
Notes:
1Which for me is a lot. I haven’t finished a post here in over two weeks. And often when I do publish a post, it’s unfinished.
2However, I recognize how superficial a list can be. I hate that Rolling Stone just does lists now, lists that they often re-remember by conveniently forgetting that they panned Smells Like Teen Spirit or whatever. The list lacks depth, but it opens the door for more interesting discussion. Hell, I’m writing a list that will lead to another list.
3Even if a third of the comments are mine and another third happen on Facebook or Twitter. I suspect three of you (or hopefully more) will comment here; I’ll respond twice; and one or two of my FB friends who hate to comment on this blog will comment there.
4Typically, the term “slump-buster” is reserved for that one-night stand that ends a long slump without getting any action. Since I blog and am happily married, this is my slump-buster. I wonder how many hits I’ll get for using the term “slump-buster”?
5There will be a beer angle as well, just not a separate best of 2010 beer list. It feels forced to do both. Besides, I have a great idea for working in some great beers to this list.
6Oddly, she used to sleep a lot more and I had more time for blogging. Now, night time is a full-on major undertaking and I’m too exhausted to write.
7However, as will be explained later in this post (above the footnotes), I don’t have time nor money to listen to all of your suggestions. So, it may be best to just comment on what’s here and not much that isn’t.
8To some, this will sound blasphemous, but The Walkmen are my new Pavement. I haven’t worked out exactly why, but they do for me what Pavement once did and I suspect they will have the same staying power when I’m old and gray. This is surely a post to come.
9I’ve noticed that seeing a band live and in support of a current release often elevates said release in my estimation of its greatness. Half of these records would never be on my radar without seeing the bands live. Something can be said for that. I guess I just did.
10Who has impeccable taste for a two-year-old.
11First, I said “yet”. Second, that would have been cool/sexy when I was a skinny college kid with an indie addiction. Now, it’s probably just creepy.
12Such a lazy comparison, but every time I put this record on, someone inevitably makes the Dylan comparison. It’s more in the aesthetic than in the message, but it’s apt.
13Which means that everything they release from here on out will suck in that sort of benign al.country way and invite douche-bags in hats and granolas to dance drunkenly in endless circles in whichever arena they choose to play next.
14This has been an interesting time to listen to all these “new” bands that just sound like the bands I saw in clubs 15 or so years ago. It’s been nice to hear a familiar aesthetic in new music.
15And after working on all these stupid footnotes, I have had a chance to listen again. It really is a good, varied record. Considering it for the list as I type this.
16I think they’re actually Welsh, so “Brits” is not meant as an insult if it is an insult.
17It was just a name change.
18Someone described it as “Pop songs stripped to the core and made weird.” This simple phrase paints Transference in a new light for me. There is much about which to think.
19Because there is no way she’s living off Sleater-Kinney royalties, unless they made a shit-ton of money opening for Pearl Jam a few years back.
Freshness Matters
In both beer and music, freshness matters. As a hophead, I understand that the fresher the beer (particularly IPA’s and DIPA’s) the better it is. You can smell the hops. The citrus and pine flavors really stand out. In the case of music, the latest album often feels like the best until the newness rubs off[1]. Even better is a new album from an old favorite, especially when the musician is trying a new direction.
A fellow beer enthusiast returned from a trip to Minneapolis with a four-pack of Surly Furious for me. These beers come in cans, meaning that their freshness stays locked in for a long time as virtually no air nor light can ruin the beer. I was excited to get another taste of this particular beer[2], but my middle-man had me even more excited when he informed me the beer was merely three weeks old. Now, that’s fresh.
Furious is about as good an IPA you’ll find. Citrus. Pine. Caramel. Malt. That’s probably all you need to know. If one needed a perfect or near-perfect example of an American IPA, look no further than Furious. It’s good to know that brewers in the Midwest continually hold their own versus the much more glorified West Coast hop bombs[3]. I’m sure it helped that the beer is so fresh. I’m curious as to how long it will last around here. Luckily, I have other beers to drink…
Fall is a time when many breweries come out with their freshly hopped harvest ales. They buy loads of fresh hops from the fall harvest to make one-off or seasonal brews whose hop characters vary from year to year. One of my favorite harvest ales is the one produced by another Midwest brewery: Founders. Founders Harvest Ale is yet another monster of a hop bomb. FHA doesn’t contain the same blast of Simcoe aroma Furious unleashed from its can, but it did satisfy the nose the way a nice IPA should…Of course, it’s just an APA. This beer is easily in Alpha King territory[4] when it comes to an overwhelming hop presence for an American Pale Ale. Again, the freshness of this beer is felt and one can fully appreciate the full 70 IBU’s[5], realizing that this beer will be gone soon when the winter winds come and I empty my cellar.
These two beers present the ideal of freshness as something new and at its peak aesthetic potential. Another kind of freshness might apply to a new and challenging idea or concept. An artist might create something never seen or heard before, at least not by him/her previously. When an artist switches direction and tries something new, it is even more challenging as the artist has created a following with an established aesthetic, choosing now to throw that niche to the wolves in favor of fresh material.
Sufjan Stevens did this. Long gone are albums about states (Midwestern ones at that). The orchestral pop with ambivalent religious messages are no longer as prevalent as they once were. Abnormally long song titles even fail to make an appearance in the liner notes. Sufjan is going for a fresh start and it sounds like The Age of Adz.
And unlike fresh beer, no one knows what to make of Sufjan Stevens’ fresh offering. However, like the freshest IPA, the freshness of Stevens’ material ignites the senses and makes you aware of opinion, emotions, etc.
The imagery on the album is particularly perplexing. Strange sci-fi images with even stranger messages written throughout the artwork elude to something sinister yet beautiful inside[6]. When I look at the packaging for the beers, they give completely different messages. Furious is a fiery, slick can and its Founders counterpart provides an image of the freshly harvested hops contributing to the flavor and aroma. However, all the images are robust and full of meaning and life. All three are a lot to take in and their packages hint at this headiness.
How is The Age of Adz fresh?
Say goodbye to traditional, pop orchestral arrangements – those created by humans and analogue in nature – and hello
to blips, bleeps, and mashed up sounds. However, once the listener gets past the striking change in aesthetic, he realizes this electronic noise is delicately arranged and as orchestral as anything he’s ever done. It’s also intricately weaved with more familiar Stevens’ fair[7].
Say goodbye to Sufjan’s trademark falsetto, or at least for the most part. In fact, Stevens shows incredible range and control of his voice, jumping from octave to octave, utilizing his voice as an instrument in a way few can match. It’s not so much that the whispers and elevated notes of his past performances is gone; there is more range and complexity to his vocal work. Adz showcases an incredible vocal talent, rarely recognized[8] and even less often imitated.
At first, the musical arrangements and electronic noise is off-putting. It’s annoying, almost disappointing in its obvious nod to current musical trends[9]. Hell, he uses auto-tune in the album’s 20-minute long closer[10]. Then, you pay attention to the music and find that the electronic masturbation is purposeful and subtle. As with all Sufjan Stevens albums, he’s so careful in crafting an exact-sounding album that doesn’t stray from the core but expands upon itself with each advancing track.
Now that he’s free from the fifty states project and the need to experiment, Stevens has written a record focused on himself. One probably shouldn’t read too much into some of the lyrics[11], but he very obviously seems to have turned the songwriter’s lens on himself in creating some of his most engaging songs to date. The songs don’t seem to have anything to do with the others, but that works, which must be a relief for a guy who once thought writing an album for each state would be a good idea[12].
How did he get here from those highly conceptualized, state-themed records to this electronic mish-mash of personal tracks? The evidence is there throughout Stevens’ catalog and life. Had he released a complete album mixing the best tracks from his first two efforts (A Sun Came, Enjoy Your Rabbit) The Age of Adz would seem a perfect follow-up. Of course, the orchestration and subtlety of his state albums help set up the intricacies found in this latest effort. Much the same way these works create a base for The Age of Adz to stand, The BQE[13] and All Delighted People EP bridge the gap in their incomplete and perplexing results. Stevens’ strangely religious Michigan upbringing, Brooklynite hipster status, and the time he had to give up music due to a viral infection helped create the uneasiness, introspection, and dramatics of this album.
This is Sufjan Stevens’ Odelay. Like Beck, Stephens was pigeon-holed with an early hit. For Beck, it was Mellow Gold with its infectious “Loser”. In Stevens’ case, his hit came later in the form of Come On Feel the Illinoise, featuring the brilliant “Chicago”. Both artists diverged only to collect the pieces that would become uniquely magnificent long-play records. Beck’s was Odelay; Sufjan’s is The Age of Adz.
Is it fresh? Hell yeah! Like the beers mentioned above? Sort of.
Freshness breaths life into its consumer. The Simcoe on the nose as I poured the Furious or the sharp bitterness on the back tongue caused by every mouthful of the Harvest Ale enlivened my senses. Left out was my sense of hearing, until I put on The Age of Adz. Ever since, I’ve been pouring over every detail of the record, trying to get a grasp on what Sufjan Stevens has done here. And every time, I get something different[14].
I don’t know that this post on freshness does either beer or album any justice, but I cannot put into words how these sorts of experiences help me freshen my perspective. The change of season, a new flavor or smell, something that catches my eye for the first time… Experiencing something new and fresh helps us get up in the morning. Great craft beer and a new record does that for me (along with the many new things my daughter discovers on a daily basis, of course).
The important thing to walk away with is that freshness matters. It’s what sustains us, motivates us. That’s probably why I still buy records and have to have the newest beers. When the freshness dies, things go stale, become inconsumable. So, we go out looking for more. I found two beers and a record that are fresh, fresh enough to satisfy me…for now.
Notes:
1Unless, of course, it doesn’t. Then you’re talking about a classic, desert island kind of record.
2I say this because it’s a rare occasion when I can enjoy some Surly and even rarer when I actually possess my own cans as Surly is canned in Minnesota and only sold in a few other states, not including Missouri.
3It’s been suggested to me that Midwest brewers brew IPA’s and DIPA’s that better represent hops than their Northwest counterparts. The person who suggested this blasphemous idea is from Seattle. So, there’s that.
4For the craft beer noobie, Alpha King is largely considered to be the best APA on the market, produced by possibly the best brewery in the world: Three Floyds. So, to say that Founders’ Harvest Ale is in the same class is a huge compliment.
5That’s huge for a pale ale. Of course, this is an American Pale Ale. Also, the Furious weighs in at a whopping 99 IBU’s. That’s bitter.
6From what I understand, the images are by an outsider artist who creates strange sci-fi images along with semi-literate messages as a sort of social commentary or some shit like that.
7I like my share of blips and bleeps (see Joan of Arc), but I think they’re overused as well (see the last Archers of Loaf record).
8Why isn’t Sufjan Stevens more recognized for his vocal prowess? I have never understood this. Sure, his songcraft and arrangements are second to none, but the most amazing skill he may possess are his vocals.
9How much do you want to bet that Stevens leaves a spot on his already crowded stages for a MacBook or two?
10That final track is more of a 4 or 5 song EP than it is one song. It has definite parts and even pauses. I don’t know what the thinking was for this sort of formatting. I wonder if he didn’t know where to put these tracks individually in the sequence and simply decided to combine them for one epic closer.
11Although I am terrible at picking out lyrics (I often sing made-up lyrics that maybe rhyme or sound similar without much attention to meaning, much like the Japanese), I did make out the chorus directed at Sufjan in “Vesuvius”.
12I still contend that the 50 States Project should live on. Even if he maybe does ten or twenty, the stories found in a state’s history has proven to be pretty remarkable for Sufjan Stevens.
13Aside from the cool comic book included, this was hugely disappointing for me.
14This shouldn’t be so remarkable for such a new album (doubly, since my copy was on backorder), but the new discoveries are striking every time. I imagine finding surprises for a long time with this one.
Why not Joan of Arc?
I saw Joan of Arc[1] play a club this week. Virtually no one was there.
What did they miss?
I only have one other JoA show from which to compare, but I know their extensive catalog well. Tim Kinsella put together a super tight four-piece that played an impeccable set of songs from various points in the band’s history. They rawked and played flawlessly. The guitar work in a JoA song is unmistakable and eternally compelling. It was just a great show.
So, why didn’t anyone go?
I will never understand why there aren’t as many people ape-shit over Joan of Arc as there are dolts like myself willing to fork over $35 to see Pavement do the ironic Eagles reunion deal[2]. And I love Pavement, but why doesn’t Joan of Arc get the same amount of love?
I guess whatever it is that JoA does, it’s difficult. I used to say that JoA songs were thirty or so seconds of brilliant pop structures and intellectually challenging lyrics with two minutes of noise and nonsense. It was worth it to patiently listen through automated birds chirping or chants or all kinds of percussion just to get to that diamond in the rough.
Then, they “broke up” and reunited as Owls. For my money, that Owls record is maybe the most complete Joan of Arc record ever. Then there were the years when they fucked around from album to album, challenging the listener every step of the way. There were the incredibly political releases in the Bush years all before what seems to be the band’s perpetual identity as a side-project for a guy who only does side-projects[3].
Whatever. Joan of Arc is not for the casual music listener. They are difficult. They demand your time and attention. I wish I had a beer analogy for you all, but there aren’t a lot of beers that challenge me the way a Joan of Arc record does. Sours used to do that[4]. Now, I just see them as a nice diversion from hops. The point is that there is really no way to explain Joan of Arc and maybe that’s the problem.
Either way, Joan of Arc is easily a top-10 band for me. No other band has as varied and as challenging a catalog as Tim Kinsella’s primary side-project does.
Notes:
1Interesting that I wrote this short post on this topic on the heels of my last post on the Lost Abbey label. You know, burning women on the stake. Joan of Arc.
2Because, let’s face it, that’s what they did. I’m not criticizing the reunion. I’d do the same thing in a heartbeat. My point is that we are dummies for falling for this reunion and re-issue bull shit. I might be the guiltiest of all.
3This includes Cap’n Jazz, The Sky Corvair, Joan of Arc, Owls, Friend/Enemy, Everyoned, and Make Believe. None of these bands seem permanent and they exclude Kinsella’s solo work as well as various projects with which he’s been a part.
4Although, sours by Cantillon and Russian River challenge me a ton. However, I have very little access to these beers. So, maybe that’s why I don’t normally think of them as challenging in the way I do JoA material.
Men and Beer
This is one of those posts I started a long time ago but never got around to finishing. In the meantime, some urgency is lost, not to mention the many other post ideas I’ve had to let go. Anyway, this one feels unfinished. Footnotes would help immensley, but I just want to post it and move on. So, here you go…
There was this story not too long ago in the Times. It seems Lost Abbey made the unfortunate choice to feature the artwork you see to the left on their labels for their Witch’s Wit. Bloggers debated. Some came up with solutions.
The debate was whether this image was offensive and should Lost Abbey change it before they release the beer again.
Who was offended?
Well, according to blog posts and the Times article, Pagans and witches were the most cited offendees. However, what was missing was that this label is offensive to women as well.
Women were persecuted, drowned, and burned because they wouldn’t conform. In fact, in some areas today, women are still suffering from such atrocities over accusations of witchcraft and generally not giving in to men’s wishes.
In other words, women can be held in check, kept quiet with the knowledge that they will be tortured or killed for stepping out of line. It’s not much different from what a battered woman suffers in an abusive relationship. It’s abuse at best and systematic oppression at worst.
Now, I doubt Lost Abbey intended for this to be the message on their beer label. They make some great beers and don’t appear to be the sexist rabble-rousers some might assume from the production of this label. It’s just insensitive. The right thing to do would be to apologize and make a reasonable change. The blogger-provided solution I linked to above would be ideal, but any change to either create a less offensive image or provide some education on the issue would be the right thing to do.
I don’t intend to pile onto Lost Abbey with this post. I’m just trying to provide some context. The issue I really want to hit upon is the sexism prevalent in the beer community.
Superficially, the worst offenders are the macro-brew side of the community. InBEV, Coors, etc. promote their “beers” through some of the most sexist, exploitive tactics possible. It’s obvious to point them out, but I thought I’d mention them first as they are by far the worst perpetrators of the objectification of women. I think we can all agree on that.
More subtly, the craft beer community has it’s share of sexism. Sure, I think the more refined community of brewers, bloggers, and enthusiasts of the craft beer scene are light-years ahead of the macros, but that might be the problem. Never should craft brewers sink to the levels of the macros. Maybe that’s naive, but I want to believe that craft brewers are more principled than corporate rice-based beer manufacturers.
The Lost Abbey is but one instance of arguable sexism or objectification in craft beer. Honestly, it’s the only one I’ve seen on a label (sans a few vintage pin-up images). That might be why it seems like such a big deal. Craft brewers don’t have to sink to such levels (not that Lost Abbey did any sinking) to sell their beer. They rely on the quality of their product, as it should be.
No, the kind of sexism I see in craft beer is subtle. Go to any craft beer event and you’ll see that it’s overwhelmingly male. I know that’s changing and there are efforts to organize the women in the community in order to improve those numbers, but one cannot miss what a boys club craft beer is.
For the most part, I’m cool with that. I often want to hang out with people like myself, gender is part of that. And any dude who’s into craft beer tends to be thoughtful and opinionated, good for a chat at the bar.
However, when you have that many men in close proximity with few or no women around, things tend to get a bit sketchy. Jokes about wives or girlfriends start to happen. The locker room comes to the bar room. Let’s just say many conversations are not the most inviting for women, but that’s not really any different than anywhere else or in almost any other context. Guys say things that are not exactly sensitive to gender because the world is just set up that way. And there are even instances when women can get in on the act. So, in this way, craft beer isn’t significantly different than the rest of the world. Still, it’s no excuse.
What I do see is a lack of a “woman’s touch” in the scene. I don’t mean that there isn’t enough pink on beer labels or fancy fruit beers. And I don’t mean to ignore those women who support, promote, and brew in the scene. What I’m talking about is the pissing contest that inevitably happens at every beer event. Who has the most rare beers in his cellar? Who has the most reviews on BeerAdvocate? Who traveled the furthest for his beer?
Missing is the delicate, intellectual side of beer. Let’s discuss beer pairings. What specifically makes this kind of hoppy beer better than that hoppy beer? What does everyone think? Let’s discuss each beer instead of frantically passing each bottle around the table in an effort to squeeze in as many beers as possible in one sitting. It goes on and on.
Admittedly, this is nit-picking. Maybe that’s why I like the craft beer scene so much. There’s little to complain about. For the most part, it’s a pretty self-conscious scene. However, when there is a critique – like the Lost Abbey label debate – it falls onto to deaf ears at best or defensive ones at worst.
Go back to the post I referred to above. I think the comments were generally polite and respectful, but there was an underlying tone that suggested craft beer had no room for descension. There’s a tone that anyone who’s offended is a whiner. The term “P.C.” is thrown around so that no one has to think about an idea that might call into question one’s privilege. It’s dismissive and condescending instead of engaging in debate. Sure, some commenters, particularly the blog’s authors, who tried to stay above the fray, but to little or no avail. It was clear that to question craft beer and to point out instances of sexism was pure blasphemy.
This attitude concerns me. To deny that inequality exists or to pretend as if it’s no big deal is a dangerous road down which to travel. There’s a reason beer clubs and homebrew communities are predominantly male. Some reasons are inane, but some factors are problematic.
Anyway, in order to combat the sexism in craft beer (real or imagined), we should support those in the scene who put forth a good image for women. There’s fellow Ohio State alum The Beer Wench and her blog, Drink with the Wench. You can also follow her on Twitter. There’s also Laurie Delk at the 100 Beers 30 Days Blog. And don’t forget to support The Ladies of Craft Beer whenever they come around.
The One Where He Blogs About College Football
Every building same height
Every street a straight line
Team colour’s yellow and blue
Cheerleaders single file
Perfect smiles unaffected
And you won’t forget
Our colour’s blue
No you won’t forget it
Twenty miles westwards
Home of the Redbirds
Team colour’s crimson blue
Open up your purses
For the boys to reimburse us
With a goal line stand on 4th and 2
And so goes Pavement’s “Lions (Linden)” off of the EP Watery, Domestic.
One thing I always appreciated about Pavement was their open fandom for the sports ball. They played basketball and table tennis backstage at Lollapalooza. Bob’s been betting on horses forever. Even now, Malk, a long-time fantasy sports junkie, came out in a Jamaal Charles[1] for the band’s Kansas City gig. All this made me feel OK about my own love for organized team sports growing up alongside my love of indie rock and anything alt.
One of those sports is football, particularly college football. Growing up in Ohio, you learned to love The Ohio State University Buckeyes. Their storied history of championships, legendary coaches, and great players were practically taught in the schools. I remember watching games at home or attending a few in person at the mammoth Ohio Stadium. While Ohio and its culture is in my blood, Ohio State football is a part of that experience and therefor will always be a part of who I am.
The trouble with liking a sport like college football, is that many of one’s more artistic, intellectual, leftist friends don’t get it. In fact, they look down upon it. My lifelong fandom is relegated to guilty pleasure status as these friends and acquaintances look down upon such a brutish sport that only represents the worst in American culture.
The way in which these friends criticize my favorite sport is quite insulting, really, but I recognize that everyone’s entitled to his/her opinion. They don’t have to like college football. That’s fine. However, the sport (like most sports) has cultural and societal value. Plus, college football has no worse an effect on culture and society than other, supposedly more prestigious entertainment options.
Take this past weekend for instance. The University of Missouri celebrated its annual homecoming weekend here, including a high-stakes, nationally significant college football game. The hype was insane for most of the week as ESPN’s College Gameday (as well as other ESPN programming) was scheduled to take place on Missouri’s campus. All this led up to a marquee match-up of two undefeated teams: the hometown Tigers versus the #1 Oklahoma Sooners. Missouri won and all hell broke loose.
Several things happened or were discussed over the weekend that perturbed me.
First, with the activity around campus reaching a fever pitch, academics in my circle[2] began complaining about all the hoopla. For this, I can’t blame them. Their workplace was being transformed into a TV set, students were skipping class with excitement, and the bane of any academic’s existence (the football team) was at the root of it all. Admittedly, I avoided campus as well as I did not want to be held up by the growing crowds of gold and black clad students and alumnae.
That said, the best thing some of these professors could do would have been to simply ignore the proceedings or even acknowledge them without judgement (which many did in all fairness). Instead, the contempt was often expressed in classes toward students, most likely alienating them for the remainder of the semester. How do you bash their school pride like that? There have to be worse things than students being excited about the school in which they attend. Teachers and professors don’t have to cancel class, but they could at least support their students a bit.
And don’t pretend that the football team has no value to the university. The University of Missouri, like countless other universities with major college football programs, benefitted greatly from their 2007 team in the form of increased enrollment. The excitement created by that team has carried over the past several years and the campus holds more students than ever before. More students means the need for all those professors who need justification for their employment (aside from their research, of course).
The second thing that bothered me was the general response by local progressives to the football game and the surrounding excitement. It was the talk of the town the next morning at one of our favorite breakfast spots. Sarcastic questions of “Did you go to the game?” followed by eye-rolling. I posted pictures of the ESPN Gameday broadcast, featuring a record crowd for the program and a herculean effort of sign creation. The response was that it was somehow “creepy”. Let’s take a look at one of those creepy images…
For comparison, look at this image from a Flaming Lips concert…
Or this one of Justin Bieber fans…
OR this one of Burning Man…
Or this one of protesters…
What makes the first image creepy and the rest perfectly acceptable? A friend responded with the following[3]:
- Uncritical conformity to group norms.
- De-Individuation of the Self
- Blind obedience to authority
- Dehumanization of the opposing team
- Allegiance based on arbitrary factors
- Inculcating the idea that zero-sum games are the only ones worth playing
Let’s break that down a bit…
Calling the crowd uncritical is a bit of an assumption. We don’t know what discussions were going on. I followed much of the event on Twitter and while a significant amount of discussion focused on how great the festivities were, there were also some critical and witty exchanges. Regardless, it’s difficult to assume the entire crowd of 18,000 fans was uncritical. If anything, football fans can be a highly critical lot and ESPN College Gameday is one of the more critical college athletic shows, in regards to football anyway. So, calling them uncritical is a stretch.
As far as the conformity of group norms, I’m not sure that’s so creepy either. In all of the images above, people are conforming to norms. In fact, like all the examples above, there are also moments of participants demonstrating some sort of individuality. In fact, the goal of the College Gameday crowds is often to create the most unique signs. How is that conforming?
The “de-individuation of the self” is laughable as all or most of the participants are doing whatever they can to stand out in the crowd. For someone who knows the inside jokes (i.e. the program’s intended audience), many of the signs displayed Saturday were quite clever. So, there is still room for individuality of self in such an event.
Besides, who’s to say that being a part of a group of like-minded folk is “creepy”? What happens at a rock concert or political protest? A bunch of people with similar thinking all gathering to feel a sense of community with like-minded peers. How is that creepy? How is that any different than getting together with my beer club or attending a Flaming Lips concert in full furry regalia?
The blind obedience to authority really has me perplexed. First of all, who is the authority? Gary Pinkel, coach of the Missouri Tigers? Kirk Herbstreit, co-host of College Gameday? No one required those kids to skip sleep in order to camp out for a good spot in the university’s quad in order to get on the TV show. In fact, I bet the powers-that-be would have preferred the students sleep in their beds, only waking to sneak in a little extra studying, but that’s not the authority we’re talking about here, I guess.
And, again, who’s to say that this so-called authority isn’t worth following? We blindly follow politicians, musicians, craft brewers, etc. because we believe in what they stand for. Sure, I love a good Noam Chomsky quote as much as the next guy, but I don’t think it creepy when said quote is posted on Facebook and forty other people click “Like”.
I would argue that “dehumanization of the opposing team” isn’t the only thing that is occurring in some of the signs berating Missouri’s opponent, Oklahoma. In fact, a lot of what is going on is an attempt to humanize these athletes who are often seen as invincible beasts, not able to be bested on the field of play. It’s part of the football culture to talk a little good-natured trash. Do some fans take it too far? Sure, but don’t some fans dehumanize the opening act by booing them off stage? Protestors dehumanize politicians despite the fact that they often have families and lives outside of politics that prove them not to be the monsters protesters (or Facebook posters) make them out to be.
“Allegiance based on arbitrary factors.” Really? Define arbitrary. Could it be similar to the fact that I like hoppy beers? I dislike the Grateful Dead, but love Yo La Tengo. British beer just taste…I don’t know…British. I don’t like olives. Are none of these opinions valid? Besides, the fans in the photo at the top are fans because they go to school or have gone to Missouri or have family and friends participating in the big game. I don’t think that’s arbitrary. I think that’s belonging to something, supporting your team.
Finally, there is another assumption that every football fan believes that zero-sum games are the only ones worth playing. In general, that’s a huge leap, but I can explain how even football is not zero-sum. One of the best traditions of football at any level is the wish that neither team sustains injury. A clean, injury-free game is a good game, no matter who your team is.
The city of Columbia greatly benefitted from the Oklahoma fans who made the trip to Columbia, and the good folk of Norman will hope for the same next season. That’s not zero-sum.
Football contains many games within the game. How do these players match up? Who won that quarter? Who has the edge in passing yards? What’s the national ranking? What’s the status of the conference? Did our team improve from last year?
As you can see, the only thing creepy or wrong with college football is misconception. Is college football perfect? No. Are there things I wish were different, better? Yes. But to look down upon a huge number of people who wear their school colors and cheer for their team every Saturday in the fall is hypocritical and elitist[4]. For once, consider the passion of college football fans as if it were the passion you hold for something dear to you. Consider that fandom is part of the human condition. It contributes to our individualism. It’s part of what makes many of us who we are. Then, you might understand the feelings of euphoria that caused half of Columbia to rush the field upon the Tigers victory last night.
Please, comment. I understand if you don’t like college football or you’ve had a bad experience with it. However, you must recognize that people have a right to celebrate their passions as much as you do.
Notes:
Not many notes for this post. It took me long enough to post this. If a good point is made or some explanation is needed, I’ll add them as necessary.
1Charles is a fantasy beast, like most top-notch NFL running backs.
2While this does include my partner, she is at least tolerant of football fandom. She doesn’t get it, but she accepts its place and therefore allows me this indulgence.
3I’m using a friend’s words here mostly because I had trouble articulating why this image would be creepy. He provided rather clear and articulate reasoning, me thinks. So clear, that I felt it necessary in using his words to refute his argument. It should make for good discussion at the bar.
4And not the good kind of elitist, like “We want the smart guy to be president.” Or “That dude is an elite guitar player.” I’m talking about the “I am better than you” kind of elitism here.
Matador and Dogfish Head
When I first started this blog 52 posts ago, I had this idea that indie record labels and craft breweries were very closely related. There’s an independent way that these two industries operate in the face of gigantic corporate overlords. However, despite the odds and the crappy economy, they are succeeding. It goes to show that good products that aren’t mass produced and actually still represent some quality, a little pride are worthy of folks’ dollars no matter how bad things are economically.
So, to demonstrate this relationship between labels and breweries, I worked out in my head parallels in both industries. I go back and forth on a few, but a few others have stayed constant. I debated a long time ago laying out all my correlations in one post, but have decided that a post to feature each label/brewery relationship would be best. For my first installment in what I hope to be a regular series, I’ve chosen Matador Records, just coming off their 21st anniversary, and Dogfish Head, makers of off-centered beer for off-centered people.
Founders: Chris Lombardi (later joined by Gerard Cosloy) and Sam Calagione
Matador was started by Lombardi in 1989, while Dogfish Head got its start in 1995. Both of these time periods are significant in each industry’s history. While 1989 for indie labels and 1995 for microbreweries were not the genesis for each industry, they were the moments when something big was about to happen. In 1989, the buzz from the underground was just starting to be heard by the mainstream. Indie bands were starting to garner attention from corporate labels and the timing in the culture was ripe for a bunch of kids to pick up guitars. The groundwork had been laid by seminal labels and bands of the eighties for this moment in time. Matador was founded at just the right moment to be part of a movement in the record industry.
The same can be said for 1995 in the craft beer scene. The early to mid-90’s saw an influx of brewers breaking out on their own. Dogfish Head was part of this boom, steadily growing through the end of the century until they saw a boom in growth the following decade (400% between 2003 and 2006). Calagione led the way with a unique take on beer-making. He’d design the conventional as well as the not-so-conventional brews for folks to devour. Some of his beers enjoy near-mass-market production and distribution, while others a featured in limited runs.
Calagione is a star of the craft brewing world. Although Lombardi started Matador, his eventual partner became almost the indie rock equivalent of Calagione. Gerard Cosloy has made some noise over the years due to his stints as DJ, zine writer, and manager for Homestead Records. His connections to the underground were what built those early Matador lineups that have made them such and integral part of indie rock. In Calagione’s case, his efforts to write books, do special beer-food events, and brew beers that challenge conventional brewer thinking have made him the star of craft brewing. Without this strong and unique leadership, neither enterprise would have gotten off the ground.
The Lineups
This is where it gets fun. I look at the bands in a labels lineup as the equivalent of the beers in a brewer’s roster. Various albums or incarnations of the bands are like variations or vintages of certain beers. So, I’ve selected a few from each roster (current and former) to demonstrate how Matador is the Dogfish Head of indie rock and vice versa.
Guided By Voices and 60 Minute IPA
GBV could be compared to nothing else than a flagship “session” beer. Sure, Bob Pollard and company have been known to throw back can after bottle of the cheap stuff, but 60 Minute is the closest thing DfH makes to a mass-produced session beer. 60 Minute IPA packs as much punch as possible into the 60 minute boil of continual hop additions as GBV can pack into a 60-minute album. Hell, 60 minutes on record for Guided By Voices is an opus. Anyway, both band and beer are the most sessional and readily available members of their respective rosters.
Yo La Tengo and 90 Minute IPA
There’s a rivalry between GBV and YLT, much the same way some folks debate the attributes of the 60 versus the 90 Minute IPA. However, I’m not here to compare bands to bands and beers to beers. Yo La Tengo is more like the 90 Minute IPA in that while filled with moments of sheer joy and genius, both will often challenge the most novice consumer. YLT makes music for and by critics. 90 Minute does the same as it answers the giant hop-bomb bell rung by hopheads everywhere. Plus, YLT packs a ton of layers into a 90 minute set or album, featuring overwhelming power as well as a delicacy not often found in similar bands. 90 Minute IPA does the same as it can both make you pucker from hop fatigue and pair nicely with artisan cheese.
Pavement and 120 Minute IPA
Rounding out the holy trinities of both Matador and Dogfish Head are Pavement and 120 Minute IPA. Both made comebacks this year after long hiatuses. Both can be difficult to grasp as both redefined their markets. Both are highly sought-after as gateway white whales on many a record and beer collecting geek’s respective lists. What’s also interesting is that each batch of 120 Minute receives a ton of scrutiny, but is often appreciated only after it has aged a while. The same is said of Pavement records as we all hated each one upon its release to only come to terms with its greatness down the road.
Chavez and Oyster Stout
They were here and now they’re gone. Both were loved, but few got to know them. Hopefully, the Oyster Stout will return – even if for a short time – as Chavez did.
Cat Power and Palo Santo Marron
People either love them or they hate them. There’s very little room in between. Cat Power’s Chan Marshall used to record these hauntingly intense albums only to disappoint as she fell apart on stage. That doesn’t seem to be a problem anymore. In much the same way, Palo Santo Marron is an intense beer that’s hard to swallow. However, it has so many characteristics we love about beer. It’s boozy (also like Chan Marshall), sweet, roasty, and it goes great with blueberry pie.
What do you think? For those of you who know the beers, describe one and I’ll try to match it to a Matador band. If you know the bands but not the beer, I can pair a beer with the band of your choosing. What do you think of my comparison overall? Can you come up with your own?
Look for more indie label/craft brewer pairings in future posts.
Beer and Pavement 
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