Friday, October 23, 2009

Thoughts after 2 weeks with the Beatles Mono Box Set




1. Guitars, generally speaking, sound awesome in mono. Nowhere Man's hard-pluck guitar is soo shiny (the harmonies sound more balanced in this one too). The stabs in the opening riff of Sgt. Pepper's LHCB punch harder. The opening riff of Drive My Car comes chiming in like something thick and leathery and wonderful. In stereo, the sound is thin and weak in comparison.

2. Part of the sound is the drums--they really thump in mono. But because everything is crunched together, and the result is sometimes a little fuzzy, this combined with the sound of the drums makes the music warm and thick and alive, while stereo sounds clear but cold and sterile in comparison.

3. Revolver in mono is the best album of all time. The stereo is great, but there's something about having all the elements together, playing with less space that just takes it to another level. The guitars sound so crunchy, especially on Taxman, And Your Bird Can Sing, Dr. Robert, and I Want To Tell You. The harmonies sound better, especially on As Your Bird Can Sing--Paul's high part comes through clearer during the chorus, and makes it just sound really pure. There's extra backwards guitar on I'm Only Sleeping, and the horns on Got To Get You Into My Life sound super punchy and in your face. Even Tomorrow Never Knows is better in mono, because the bird sounds have to take their turn during the backwards guitar, which somehow works better than when they were always yapping away in the left channel the whole time. And that guitar, there's something about it--it's louder, more prominent, almost like it's double-tracked (it kind of is, since its coming through both speakers), and this somehow makes it much scarier.

4. Songs that used to suck or be meh, ok, are now awesome. These include:
Ticket to Ride. The drums come barreling in and BAM. Everything is balanced and it just fucking ROCKS.
Nowhere Man. See above. The harmonies are better, the guitar is louder, and I can finally see why it was a #1 hit in 1965.
Paperback Writer. I never liked this song. It always sounded cheesy and slight to me. But in mono, when the drum smacks after the intro and the guitar comes in, it just sounds so fuzzy and fat, and the groove is so tight, that this is now one of my favorite Beatles songs. The flange effect at the end of the "wriiiteeeeeerrrr---rrrr---rrrr--rrrr" makes it into the most rocking psychedelic song they ever made.
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. Possibly the most improved song in the whole mono set; the vocals really soar, and the drum smacks seem more precise somehow. Yet another song that always seemed overrated to me; now, I finally get it.
Penny Lane. The mono version works so much better. It may have something to do with the fact that the little orchestral fills and sound effects don't trill annoyingly off to the side as though they're afterthoughts, but take their turn in the center along with everything else. It feels much tighter, more thoughtfully constructed.
Dear Prudence. Another song that always felt kind of "meh" to me. But again, it's a case of the shining, thick guitar line so prominent in the mono Rubber Soul--you can really hear "the sun is out, the sky is blue, it's beautiful, and so are you"--it's brought to life by the guitar lick.
Happiness is a Warm Gun. Oh my God, this song fucking rocks in mono. "Mother superior jumped the gun!" just gains speed and intensity until it kicks back into 4/4 and the "bang bang shoot shoot" harmonies blast away. It was always an awesome song, but the mono version kicks it up a notch.
I Will. The mono version has a small, but vital difference: the "dum, dum" sung bass part doesn't start until after the first verse, and when they do it completes the groove.

In conclusion, here's my take on which albums sound best in which format:

Please Please Me: Mono

With the Beatles: Mono

A Hard Day's Night: Stereo, except for If I Fell and And I Love Her (double tracking is weird on those)

Beatles for Sale: Stereo

Help! First 6 Songs: Stereo (mono sounds kinda muddy, but clears up in time for Ticket to Ride). Ticket to Ride through the end is better in mono, except for I've Just Seen a Face--the stereo separation works better for that one. And Yesterday is better--the cellos are quieter and smoother in mono.

Rubber Soul: Mono, except for In My Life and maaaaybe Michelle (I like the tight fuzzy mono, but the harmonies are clear as a bell in the stereo version. Either is great.

Revolver: Mono. See above.

Sgt. Pepper: Mono, even for Mr. Kite (the swirlies are different, crazier, better) and A Day In the Life (orchestra is more crammed together, fewer instruments hanging off the end, scarier).

Magical Mystery Tour: Stereo, except for Penny Lane and maybe All You Need Is Love (not sure about that one yet but if I hear that stupid fucking commercial again I'm going to be very angry)

White Album: It's a mix.
USSR: Stereo
Dear Prudence: Mono, see above
Glass Onion: Mono, as is generally the case with the rockers
Obla Di: Stereo (has handclaps)--Stereo is better for the next several until
Happiness is a Warm Gun: Mono, see above.
Martha My Dear: Stereo
I'm So Tired: Mono
Rest of first album except for I Will: Stereo
Birthday: Stereo
Yer Blues: Stereo (weirdly muddy and far away in mono)
Mother Nature's Son: Stereo
me and my Monkey: Mono
Sexy Sadie: Stereo
Helter Skelter: Mono see above.
Longx3: it's louder, and the guitar is more prominent in mono.
Rest of the album: Stereo. Good Night: the orchestra is wide and beautiful in stereo, but Ringo's vocal meshes better in mono. Tough call.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Reflections on a WSJ Editorial After Reading Too Much George Orwell



The other day I started reading the Wall Street Journal's editorial page. I do this from time to time to keep my senses alert, to make sure I'm not getting soft. I'm trying to avoid a situation where I feel like the guy in NOFX who says "society don't bother me and there's something wrong with that." Then again, I'd have to be pretty unconscious for the Journal's editorial page not to bother me.

Anyway, Peter Berkowitz cought my eye with an op-ed titled Bush Hatred and Obama Euphoria are Two Sides of the Same Coin, which says a few things that got me thinking. Such as:

Some will speculate that the outbreak of hatred and euphoria in our politics is not the result of the transformation of left-liberalism into a religion, its promulgation as dogma by our universities, and students' absorption of their professors' lesson of immoderation. This is unfair to religion.

There are some obvious starting points here (e.g. the weaselly "some will speculate" intro;the disingenuous/retarded notion that there is some left-wing political force in this country that 1. exists, and 2. is somehow responsible for the fact that George Bush is a bad man and Barack Obama is not). But I don't want to give Berkowitz too much credit. He's just repeating the party line. And the party line, for probably 60 years, has been: higher education in America is a breeding ground for dirty commie traitors.

Now, it might seem silly to spend some time dissecting this, since it's just propaganda, but it's very powerful propaganda, which serves a purpose that is both pretty sinister and somewhat hidden from view. To begin, Nixon was saying this shit back in the 1950s, and while he may have been motivated by a very personal resentment based on his college experience, the left-wing professor meme has since become a crucial play in the Republican playbook, and that's because it works. It taps into that natural American working-class resentment, the resentment common people feel for the unfairly privileged that was unspeakable back when only the rich went to college and is so speakable now it's become a political philosophy: fuck you, college boy. Yeah.

...By assembling and maintaining faculties that think alike about politics and think alike that the university curriculum must instill correct political opinions, our universities cultivate intellectual conformity and discourage the exercise of reason in public life.

But, more importantly, is it true? Now, to anyone who has actually attended college, or even one of those evil elite liberal arts schools, this picture he paints of rabid left-wing professors, angrily stifling dissent might seem a bit strange. Rather, it seems safe to say that professors, particularly those on the faculty at the top dog schools, tend to prize rational, dispassionate thinking and reasoned argument. They get to where they are because they’re brilliant, inquisitive, open-minded teachers who want their students to be as open as possible to worldly knowledge and experience. Now, that said, it’s true that some professors suck. Some are intolerant of opposing arguments. Some professors get to where they are by advocating a particularly challenging or contentious view of history, or literary criticism, or politics. Some are classroom bullies. And there are plenty of horror stories (some more true than others), collected by conservative "watchdog" groups accusing professors of displaying political biases in class.

But the thing is, the professors who do this are bad professors. They're losing their heads, letting themselves get tripped into a battle for control, and forgetting that the whole point of a free and open exchange of ideas in a liberal education is that you don't dismiss people out of hand. You listen to what they have to say. If their argument lacks polish, but is based on evidence, and accurately describes the situation and points towards a valid interpretation or understanding, then the professor should say so. If their argument is flimsy, or lacks supportive evidence, or is simply not based on fact then it should be dismissed as such. Those are the rules of the game. It isn’t about being nice or trying not to hurt people’s feelings. I remember vividly my first day in Harry Williams’ African-American History class, fall of my freshman year at Carleton. We were talking about David Walker’s Appeal against slavery. I raised my hand, nonchalantly, and said something like “Oh, it’s so eloquently written. He’s so laid back. He never loses his cool at all, even though he’s talking about slavery. I like that.” Silence. Professor Williams stared at me, rose out of his chair and waddled his six foot four, 250 pound self towards me. His black face was twice the size of mine. He stared down at me. “Oh really. Calm. Laid back, you say.” He looked around the room. “Does anyone else agree with this statement?” And for the next 5,000 minutes everyone in the class took turns calling me a fool. Everyone got a chance, even the hot girl sitting next to me (her sad smile and head shake said it all--we might have had something there. If only.)

Harry Williams was a dick, but he was absolutely right. I was wrong. In fact, if there’s one way to describe David Walker’s Appeal, it’s probably as the exact opposite of what I said: it’s angry, semi-coherent in spots, with long spittle-flecked sentences in all capital letters. What I said was demonstrably, empirically wrong. And I got called on it.

Woah woah, slow down there, Berkowitz says. I’m not talking about facts. I’m talking about opinions, political opinions! I’m trying to get liberal arts professors to live up to their calling and be inclusive of all points of view, even if they disagree personally with some of them! Well, that’s a nice sentiment, except the examples he uses don’t actually fall under the “opinion” category. Bush v. Gore? There’s nothing wrong with saying you like the ruling, but the facts of the matter are 1. that conservative, “states’-rights” justices overturned the Florida State Supreme court and decided that the presidential ballots cast by the citizens of that state should not be counted; and 2. that they did so by affirming Bush’s rights (as the plaintiff) against discrimination as cited in the fourteenth amendment. Anyone cognizant of these facts has pretty clear justification for attacking the ruling, perhaps even vehemently. As for the “oft-refuted allegation that Bush lied about WMDs in Iraq,” I don’t think “oft-refuted” means what he thinks it means. Now, reasonable people (e.g. criminal lawyers) can debate whether or not Bush’s words fit the narrow literal definition of “lied,” (or whether he admitted culpability for the torture of U.S. prisoners in an interview on national T.V.). But to angrily dismiss these topics as evidence of some liberal conspiracy theory is not just disingenuous: it is to angrily dismiss the idea that objective truth has value whatsoever. To Berkowitz and people like him, truth and lies are just opinions, and who are those damn “left-liberals” to say that their opinions are better than anyone else’s? You don’t need facts, or lucid arguments, or any other pussyass words to prove truth. Power makes truth.

Why do professors tend to have left wing political opinions anyway? Well, consider some questions: Can a terrorist act be justified? Does Karl Marx make valid observations about capitalist society? Are there ways to understand the exercise of American power in ways that are different from those accepted and approved by our government and by the mainstream media? To all of these questions, a liberal education does not give a single correct answer. A good liberal arts student may well discover that the answer in each case is "No." But according to the theory of liberal arts education, they are at least worth pursuing. The student recognizes these as questions that, when explored, will serve to expand his understanding of the world in which he lives. Berkowitz, however, doesn’t have any questions. They’re unimportant, uninteresting, and subversive questions. He already knows the answer, and that is "No," or more accurately, “fuck you." When confronted with a multiplicity of meanings, he denies that these differences of interpretation exist in the first place. And then he accuses anyone who addresses these questions honestly, anyone who recognizes them as worthy of investigation, of seeking to impose "leftist indoctrination" on all those poor little Berkowitzes in classrooms across the country.


. . .


At this point it might be time to ask, ok, well what’s the harm of this? After all, it’s just propaganda. It’s not like conservatives are trying to shut down colleges or even kick liberal professors off campus. It’s just red meat for the fanatic fringe, to keep them pissed and voting Republican. What effects does it really have?

First, it’s clear that in the 60 years since Nixon began railing about pinko professors, the value of a liberal education has declined dramatically. Bachelors degrees are a necessity, but they barely earn a foot in the door at most companies nowadays. But alongside this tangible slide is a more philosophical slide. As the free exchange of ideas is confined to ever smaller reservations, it becomes ever harder for a society to conceive of real progressive change. Nixon was right; professors have always been left-wing, and it is those left-wing professors we can thank for much of the intellectual lifting that paved the way for every progressive victory that occurred throughout history. Before abolitionism, women’s suffrage, Civil Rights, social security and medicare went mainstream, they were debated on college campuses. Before the American Revolution was fought, its ideals were debated by teachers and intellectuals. What kind of country could Jefferson and Madison have created if they’d had to spend all their time arguing for their right to imagine it?

More importantly, these attacks help keep these progressive ideas emasculated and confined to the reservation, and in so doing they keep our public discourse from reflecting the full range of possible reactions to the present crisis. For example, ask anyone who isn’t a banker or a politician what should be done with the $800 billion stimulus money, and they’ll say it should be given to the taxpayers. And then they’ll laugh, because everyone knows this could never happen. Well, why not? Because there is no real public debate about just what our values and priorities should be regarding this or any other matter of public policy. The debate has two sides: Democrats, who say that we need to bail out the bankers who in their greed screwed over a couple hundred million people in this country alone. And Republicans, who say: “No,” or more accurately, “fuck you.”

And in the meantime, people are seriously pissed off. During the last few weeks of the presidential campaign, when McCain decided he was a populist rabble-rousing truthseeker sent by the people to go change Washington, he started passing off the mike to Ordinary Americans at campaign events, and things got scary. There was the woman who called Obama a Muslim terrorist. And there was the guy who grabbed the mike and said, “I’m mad.” McCain nodded, and started to say something, but the guy cut him off: “I’m really, REALLY mad,” he growled, and the crowd cheered in agreement. McCain looked surprised and frightened by this; those last few weeks, indeed, it seemed it was all he could do to stay afloat as all the seething resentment Republicans had been stoking for half a century blew up in his face. They’ve fed into it, harnessed it, ridden it to victory, but despite all the electoral success, these lower middle-class voters haven’t seen their lives get better, but worse. They’re against the stimulus, but they have no idea what they’re for, because they can’t reason critically, and they have no access to a culture in which reasonable alternatives can be discussed.

But just because they can’t talk about it doesn’t mean their anger isn’t real, and it doesn’t mean they don’t represent a real and growing threat.

Obama should take note. Revolutions don’t happen during times of maximum oppression. They happen afterwards, when the screws are loosened a little bit, when a little light peeks through. Obama campaigned on Change, and whether he meant it or not, voters now believe that he will really change the entrenched, unreflective thinking that’s dominated our discourse since Nixon. If he doesn’t produce results soon, the new alternatives might not be debated in an ivory tower classroom, but in the streets.

. . .


Orwell said that the British ruling class had two options: they could read Marx, and thereby understand that their position was immoral and untenable. Or they could flee into stupidity. The upper class survived as the British empire decayed in the ‘20s and ‘30s because they were simply too dumb—or pretended to be, but what's the difference?—to admit that they had no legitimate claim to political power. This had drastic consequences, not the least of which was their complete misunderstanding of the nature of the Fascist threat.

It's safe to say that our Democratic party today has chosen Option 2. Meanwhile, the Republicans have chosen option 3: "No," or more accurately: you know what it is.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Waiting

For some reason the checkout lines were long and slow tonight at the Harris Teeter. The woman a little further along in the line next to me was staring right ahead, not blinking, totally zoning out. She was about 50, black, and slightly overweight. Her shopping cart consisted entirely of several quarts of orange juice, three or four bags of frozen peas, and a single cantaloupe. When she made it to the magazine rack she laid her arm against the black wire, and her finger came to rest on a People Magazine. She looked at the big yellow PREGNANCY BLISS headline shining below Angelina Jolie's bared teeth, and she moved closer to it, and then she began rubbing the cover with her thumb back and forth, again and again, over and over, wearing down the sheen until it was dull and smudged, staring at it all the while with a little smile that might or might not have really been there at all. Then she turned and put her food on the belt. "Did you find everything you needed?" the checkout guy asked. "Yes, thank you," she answered quickly. He scanned her items. She waited to hear her total, hands folded atop her purse.

Friday, November 28, 2008

I couldn't sleep the other night, so I dicked around on YouTube until I found myself re-watching Obama's "Race Speech." I noticed a few things I'd missed the first time around.

1. In this speech and throughout his campaign, Obama was speaking as an ambassador, as a black guy who, because of rhetorical skills and biography is uniquely able to explain the black experience to White America. He makes remarkable rhetorical concessions to do this--for example, he says that sentiments like those expressed by Reverend Wright "aren't always expressed in polite company." It's phrases like these that make old guard Civil Rights warriors like Jesse Jackson want to cut his nuts off. But it's also the kind of talk that makes even whites who disagree with his policies and are somewhat skittish about black politicians (but might not say so in polite company) perk up and listen. He's speaking to them calmly, with understanding, from the next seat at the table, and not from behind a barricade. And that's a kind of revolution.

2. The Civil Rights movement now exists primarily as a story parents tell their children. As they grow they internralize the movement from slavery to freedom. There is a shared history here. And although this is a specific history about a specific people who comprise 10 percent of the American population, it is still THE American story. It explains who we all are, where we all were, and where we are all going.

The key passage is from Dreams from my Father. Crucially, he paints himself as an outsider, like a visitor from outside the fold seeking reconciliation:

People began to shout, to rise from their seats and clap and cry out, a forceful wind carrying the reverend’s voice up into the rafters….And in that single note – hope! – I heard something else; at the foot of that cross, inside the thousands of churches across the city, I imagined the stories of ordinary black people merging with the stories of David and Goliath, Moses and Pharaoh, the Christians in the lion’s den, Ezekiel’s field of dry bones. Those stories – of survival, and freedom, and hope – became our story, my story; the blood that had spilled was our blood, the tears our tears; until this black church, on this bright day, seemed once more a vessel carrying the story of a people into future generations and into a larger world. Our trials and triumphs became at once unique and universal, black and more than black; in chronicling our journey, the stories and songs gave us a means to reclaim memories that we didn’t need to feel shame about…memories that all people might study and cherish – and with which we could start to rebuild.

With this, he's speaking directly to me, and to the millions of white kids in this country who've grown up studying, loving, and living black music, literature, language and culture. He might have told us to step off, because we could never understand, or because our affection can seem affected or insincere or commercially-driven. But he lets us in with open arms. Damn right, we should all be stirred and thrilled when we learn about Harriet Tubman as children. Hell yes, Sam Cooke should give us chills when he hits the high notes. When the beautiful white woman kills the black boy on the train in Baraka's The Dutchman, she kills us too. While the Invisible Man's deepest worry is that "on the lower frequencies, I speak for you," Obama knows that he speaks for us, and that this is something to be celebrated.

3. Throughout the primary and general election campaigns, his enemies consistently went after him with one simple attack: Do you know who Obama is, really? Most sensible people understood this to be desperate dog-whistling, aimed at white voters who might be wary of the exotic, black candidate. And it certainly was that. But I think that there's also something more here, something that neither Clinton nor McCain had the inclination to fully explore. Reading the text of Obama's speech, with all its penetrating insight and understanding, still leaves you without the full impact of his delivery. Watching him, it's clear that he's not just a writer and political theorist; he's also an actor, who can deliver his lines with remarkably persuasive precision.

And there is something more than a little disconcerting about this. It creates a kind of tension in me as I watch him: it's clear, on the one hand, that he's utterly confident in both the objective truth of his analysis and the subjective truth of his experience. And yet, on the other hand, I can't help but be equally conscious of his performance. I can hear the calculation in his voice. I know that he knows exactly how to move me; I can see the connections before he makes them; I can anticipate the crescendos, and yet they hit me just as hard--even harder this time, the second time around. I'm frightened that he knows me so well.

I think this fear is the basis for an entire industry of anti-Obama fear-mongering. It's there in the faces of right-wing commentators when they dismiss Obama as a cynical politician, as a messiah for deluded masses who don't realize they're being conned by a particularly gifted actor. It was the basis for a particularly awesome recent Onion headline. It's a testament to Obama's skill, as well as to the supremely-fucked state of our country, that he was able to win despite this.

After all, what can be more frightening for white bigots than a black man who truly sees them for what they are?

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

I Hate Slate, vol. 254

Ah, Slate. Those wonderful people. They’ve once again managed to piss me off in that heated/slightly ashamed, I’m-not-sure-this-is-worth-my time-oh-what-the-hell-fuck-you sort of way that I find so frustrating and yet so enjoyable...

Today’s topic is a snippet of snark by David Barreby called “Only in America: The Wrongheaded American belief that Barack Obama Could Only Happen Here.”

Before we get started, I’d like to note that the author has taken the admirable route of trumpeting his disdain with a typically Slatean “Americans are totally full of themselves” title. That's their bread and butter—and they particularly love articles that paint liberal, educated Americans as self-obsessed and full of themselves. Exhibit A:

Barreby begins with the tried and true rhetorical flourish of describing somebody we think we know (Obama) and suddenly, woah! The joke's really on us when we learn that Obama's not the only national historical leader who’s ethnic, has a foreign sounding name, a non-Christian father, was a bestselling author, had an outsider’s detachment and clear ambition—Benjamin Disraeli was too! Can we Americans, Barreby asks piously, please stop patting ourselves on the back about the supposed uniqueness of electing Barack Obama president?

First of all, the phrase “patting ourselves on the back,” with all its elitist condescension, does not remotely describe the feelings and attitudes of the millions of Americans who are happy Obama won. We are joyful, ecstatic, amazed, relieved, and proud of our country. But there is nothing that smacks of American exceptionalism in our celebration. This is about joining the rest of the world. This is about celebrating with the Kenyans and Hawaiians and Indonesians and Iranians and Indo-Europeans all over the world who are delighted that we have thrown off our suicidal impulses of the last 8 years. Reading Slate, of course, you'd think Obama supporters spend all their time hiding our heads in the sand and mouthing insipid platitudes about our inherent greatness while that greatness crumbles.

There is nothing unique, Barreby insists, a black man getting elected in a country tarred by slavery and institutionalized racism, in which whites who publicly murdered blacks could get away scot free until less than 50 years ago (and more recently if you're a NYC police officer with probable cause). No, says Barreby; don’t you see, Napoleon conquered Europe! And he was from Corsica! Also, the president of Peru is Japanese. And Sonia Gandhi was born in Italy. And while there are hundreds of different tribes in Kenya, a guy who was president there once wasn’t from the biggest tribe. And all sorts of Roman emperors were Arab and what have you.

Next comes my favorite moment, when Barreby says that “Instead of expecting, against the evidence, that people only want a leader who is ethnically, religiously, or culturally "like us,'' Americans ought to be examining how and why people decide that "like us'' can be based on criteria other than race or religion.”

Good lord. Does he really believe that the people who voted for Barack Obama are people who expected “against the evidence,” that Americans would only elect a leader like them? How many twisted hoops of irony has he jumped through to convince himself that the people who celebrate what Barack Obama means to this country and the world are the ones who are blind to history? Also, what the hell, dude? Every president in American history has been a white man. Alongside the fact of Napoleon’s climb to the top of the French army, every French president/prime minister/emperor/dictator has been a white man; every British prime minister has been white; every fucking leader of every majority white country since before modern race relations became a factor 500 fucking years ago has been white. You want white Americans to begin to broaden their conception of acceptable leaders to be based on criteria other than race or religion? WE JUST DID THAT 2 WEEKS AGO YOU NUMBSKULL!!!

Before I make too big a deal of this (ok, it's probably too late), let’s close with a little perspective. In Barreby’s defense, he does make some mildy interesting points about how these historical figures exhibit similarities. And it’s surely good to know history and to use it to inform our understanding of today. But to claim that Obama’s election is somehow less revolutionary because the Emperor of Rome was once an Arab is retarded. While there are similarities between Obama and Disraeli and others, there is no precedent for what has been accomplished here. Ignoring or diminishing the amazing and beautiful things around us with flimsy reasoning to suit one’s ironic, laconic, hipsteresque repose, on the other hand, is nothing new at Slate.com.