Fuck Yeah Words On Music

PhD student in Digital Culture and writer on pop culture. These are mostly other people's words on music. Main blog on Swedish site Rodeo.net. Personal notes on ImageObjectText Tumblr.

nip-punk:

christinefriar:

I. love. the. Anaconda. video. but the writeups I’ve been seeing keep referring to Drake as a co-star, which I think misses a big part of the point.

The reason this video rules is because Drake is an extra. Drake is a prop. Drake is a bro in the comfy-casual clothes that he rolled up to the set in, who has no lines or purpose other than the be ground upon, and whose face is obscured by shadows most of the time.

This is not a continuation of the Drake/Nicki/Rih media narrative. This is a dank-as-fuck feminist power play. This is, “Drake is whatever to me.” And this is a man who, if he isn’t at the top of his game, is close to it. A huge celebrity. And here is Nicki looking fucking amazing, tormenting him into a boner, then swatting his hand away and walking out of frame.

Your anaconda don’t want none unless she got buns, hun? Maybe she doesn’t want your anaconda. Maybe she’ll do whatever the fuck she wants with her buns, and it doesn’t matter what you think or feel.

liberate my soul

(via azaadi)

The Sinthomic Blank in Future Bass and Dubstep

everydayanalysis:

image

In classical psychoanalysis a symptom is roughly a sign of something that ails us, which speaks through us by ‘hooking onto language.’ ‘It’, our unconscious, speaks when we are on the analyst’s couch – and in everyday life – through the now-familiar means of slips of the tongue and pen, and…

thefader:

"There’s a whole continuum of culture and music that doesn’t just come from one side of a personality or gender.”
COVER STORY: KINDNESS FINDS A HOME IN POP
PHOTO BY EMMA HARDY FOR THE FADER

thefader:

"There’s a whole continuum of culture and music that doesn’t just come from one side of a personality or gender.”

COVER STORY: KINDNESS FINDS A HOME IN POP

PHOTO BY EMMA HARDY FOR THE FADER

Still, there hasn’t been a clear definition of rockism, and I’d like to propose one—a very narrow one, to keep its meaning from bleeding too far out. Rockism, let’s say, is treating rock as normative. In the rockist view, rock is the standard state of popular music: the kind to which everything else is compared, explicitly or implicitly. So, for instance, it’s a rockist opinion that pre-stereo-era blues and country are interesting less in their own right than because they anticipated rock, or that Run-D.M.C. and Alison Krauss are notable because their virtues are also the virtues of rock, or that Ciara’s Goodies isn’t interesting because it fails to act like rock.

… Most of all, rockism is programmed into the way people write about music. The basic DNA of popular-music criticism came from the people who wrote for Rolling Stone and Creem in the ’60s and ’70s. They were the first to write about pop interestingly and at length; they loved rock of that pop-historical moment’s Beatles/Stones/Dylan school more than anything else; and their language and perspective and taste have been internalized by pretty much everybody who’s followed them, even people who’ve never actually read their stuff. That’s the foundation for our house. Note, for instance, that anybody who writes about popular music is a “rock critic.”

Is rockism a bad thing? Well, yeah, it is, and nobody’s free of it; I’m sure not. But it’s pernicious because it makes it harder to understand any other kind of music on its own terms, and it chains both artists and their audience to an ideal rooted in a particular moment of the past, in which a gifted lyricist is by default a “new Dylan” (not a new Charley Patton, not a new Bill Withers, and especially not herself), in which the songwriter and the singer and the main instrumentalist are all on the stage and preferably the same person, in which any instrumentation for performance other than guitar-bass-drums-vocals-and-maybe-keyboards is some kind of novelty, because that is what’s normal. Writers don’t think this way because “19th Nervous Breakdown” is our favorite song; we do it unconsciously because it’s the language we all internalized as pop-magazine-obsessed kids. And it trickles down to everyone who reads what we write.

Douglas Wolk, “Thinking About Rockism" (Seattle Weekly, May 4, 2005). Naturally, this completely calm, well-reasoned argument made people mad because, you know, how DARE anyone suggest that very POV wasn’t the center of the universe.

(via thediscography)

(via microphoneheartbeats)