A continuation of your favorite article on musical delusion.
You Schmooze, You Lose: An Imaginary DJ Set
By Jennie Willis
On this installment of You Schmooze, You Lose, we are going to engage in a bit of sightseeing. Maybe the term "soundseeing" would be more appropriate? No, that just sounds silly. But I digress...
The place: Washington, DC, land of your DJ's birth. Land of politicians and half-baked hipsters. Land that I love. Ian MacKaye is a millionaire nowadays, but you can still catch him trudging around Adams Morgan on a clear day. Speaking of which, there will be no Minor Threat or Fugazi found here. In fact, only three bands in tonight's set are actually from DC. I am delving into the philosophy, the essence of Our Nation's Capitol. Nation of Ulysses has long since broken up and Mark E. Smith has advised us to leave the capitol. I for one did. Therefore this set will be comprised largely of personal reflections as well as hypothetical record spinning. This is your DJ's love letter to the District and an obituary for whatever your notions of it were.
Now, let's skip the half-smoke and dig into something much tastier: Washington's musical history.
The Cramps- Garbageman
I can still remember that glorious moment when I smacked Lux interior's latex-ensconced ass at the 9:30 Club back in 2003. "Garbageman" was the song, and as Lux stuck out his can I did what seemed appropriate. It's a shame that now he is a sorely missed pile of Rockin' Bones. The Cramps are the proverbial gun at the starting line due to their atomic influence on what would become the DC Punk scene of the 1980s. Ask anyone from Brian Baker to Henry Garfield (alias Rollins). They'll tell you.
Lux, Ivy, and Nick all stuck out their respective cans and gave this stodgy old city the what-fer with their brand of psychotic-turn blue-hillbilly-hell-in-a-wastebasket rock n' roll. Outta the crypt and into our hearts.
This song in particular, with it's municipal beat and dump truck- cum- Duane Eddie guitars combined with Lux's Louie Louie Frankenstein snarl of "You ain't no punk, you punk!" served as an announcement to Washington that they were in serious need of a discourse on the real junk. Bang, and we're off.
Bad Brains- The Big Takeover
I don't favor being predictable, but you knew this was coming. There is no way to get around the Bad Brains. I would like to, what with the homophobia, the strange ventures into reggae and the antics of H.R.; but there is no denying the explosive role this band played in the emergence of the 1980s DC Hardcore scene and beyond. The fact that they were a punk band with solely black members could have become novelty. However the raw energy and force behind the group left all cliches in the dust.
This selection makes it's move slowly with the seemingly infinite buildup of the drums. Then the guitar slides in and without warning, cracks you over the skull, cuing H.R. to scream and warble rabidly about the downfall of the U.S.A...something felt keenly in Washington.
The Make Up- Here Comes the Judge
Now to transition from a future of doom to destination love. Armed with Soul swagger and the Gospel Yeh Yeh, the Make-Up forced all the jaded hipsters to uncross their arms and, well, have a good time. Ian Svenonius' shriek calls us to attention. Is that what made him the Sassiest Boy in America? The opening track to this "live" album conjured at the now defunct DC 'temple' Cold Rice is just as electric as, say, the opening track on "Kick Out the Jams"; while both inspire us to overthrow the system and liberate ourselves, the Make-Up's shimmy shake call to action is a hell of a lot sexier.
Rites of Spring- For Want Of
The final track that originates in DC. Just because a band is emotional, it does not make that band 'emo.' That phrase is simply a cop out and a means for Hot Topic to stay in business. Rites of Spring was so much more, combining the fury of Hardcore with the passion of life itself. Has your band ever made the audience break down and cry? Alright then. This potent selection brings to the surface all the memories we've choked on, all the hopes we've ever dared to utter, all the dreams that fell short, just slightly.
Lead Belly- Bourgeois Blues
No need to go on about Lead Belly. If you don't know who he is then you live a sorry existence. Upon becoming politicized after meeting Woody Gutherie and Josh White, Lead Belly recorded this vitriolic ode to the racism of Washington. A line from this song sums it up best: "Now all you black folks listen to me don't take no home in no Washington, DC lord it's a bourgeois town." Nothing more needs to be said.
The Magnetic Fields- Washington, DC
DC can be an exciting place when you have a lover there. The traffic on Constitution parts just for you, the cherry trees stand with confidence along the filthy Potomac, and even the Munch paintings at the National Gallery smile at you. This sweet little tune from Stephin Merritt's ambitious 69 Love Songs project captures the bubbly bounce one carries with them in anticipation of seeing their District love once more. Who cares for monuments and famous names when you have someone to hold tightly?
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds- Abattoir Blues
This final selection holds a very special place in your Miss DJ's heart. Way back in 2004 I purchased this album at a little record store in Dupont Circle on my lunch break. This song in particular became a staple as I would drive up the GW Parkway at night, admiring the city lights. DC can feel like an abattoir at times, with it's easy meat and spirit slaughter. It's inhabitants rushing to and from work, packing into the Metro cars and avoiding eye contact as if it were a plague rising up from the fetid swamp this city was built on.
"Abattoir Blues" shuffles in like the Green Line to Columbia Heights, arriving to transport us to that spot on 16th Street where we found love, then lost it. Cave's determined piano pounding reflects nerves that palpitate upon exiting the train and reemerging above ground; the drums are the sound of our feet anxiously traversing cracked sidewalks, moving forward to a kiss that will never come. That's Washington, DC for you.
No comments:
Post a Comment