Archive for the ‘TV / Culture’ Category

TUNE IN TUESDAY, Ed. #4

August 17, 2010

While this is a music blog, for this edition of TIT, this dirty motherfucking hipster has decided to share some non-musical, YouTube chatter with you all. It’s partially out of malaise and laziness and partially out of a desire to illustrate just how fucking fantastic the internet can be, and show the awesome comedic potential that useless video-garbage has. Enjoy!


Reminds me of home


Mr. Dodson has some pretty killer rhythm and timing


Schizophrenic word salad sure can be funny. Do you like space?

Good for a few laughs, no? -DFH

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Kanye Gets Artsy, or, New Adventures in Hi-Fi (Not by REM)

August 5, 2010

Yesterday, when I discovered this video, there were 341 views on YouTube. Today, of course, it seems to be old news with over 50,000. No matter, this is something you’ve got to see. Would be a lot cooler if someone I liked more than Kanye were involved in this project, but I will nevertheless keep the name Marco Brambilla in the ol’ memory bank. This dirty hipster recommends you do the same.


“From Civilization to Power” by Marco Brambilla”

It’s not very often that an art form finds itself completely original and eye-opening, but Mr. Brambilla seems to have created something new – and it’s beautiful. -DFH

TUNE IN TUESDAY, Ed. #2

August 3, 2010

In this edition of TIT, Prince once again proves that he might be the coolest mother of all time.

Be patient, watch the whole video – trust me.


Prince joins an all-star cast and steals the show

-DFH

One Helluva Gig

July 29, 2010

Jack White, perhaps the coolest musical figure of our generation (certainly up there with Andre 3000 and Prince, who may be the coolest musical figure of any generation), performed The Beatles’ classic “Mother Nature’s Son” at the White House. The task alone is impressive and threatening enough, but when the seating arrangement puts the leader of the free world and a knight directly at the performer’s feet, shit, even a professional as traveled and accomplished as Jack White’s got to get goosebumps. He, as expected, performed wonderfully, of course. Enjoy!


Jack White performs The Beatles’ “Mother Nature’s Son” at the White House. Aired on PBS, July 28, 2010

Brought to you by the Public Broadcasting Service, viewers like you and the letter “D,” for Dirtyfuckinghipster.com. -DFH

Out with the Old, In with the Not-So-New

June 17, 2010

As the scope and pervasive nature of the internet have increased to a profoundly (overly-?)integrated level we begin to see its direct impact on our music, and, specifically, our musical recordings. A post I came upon earlier today on Stereogum points to a band who seem to be taking full advantage of the rather forgiving (I think that’s a proper adjective to describe what I’m getting at) nature of the music distribution database that is the interweb.

Minks

There appears to be a new Brooklyn band on the scene. They’re called Minks, and their tunes are alright. But it’s their production that stands out. It seems to this dirty fucking hipster that the band may not be in possession of a microphone and have recorded their tracks straight into a computer, likely a 13″ MacBook from 2007, the ought’s version of the StarTac. While many purists may reject this method as “improper recording technique,” this opinionated fucking hipster digs it. If the public isn’t going to pay for their music – and they’re not, get over yourselves, majors and distributors – why the fuck should the band pay for it?

It would be great to see this become a common trend. And it’s not a middle finger to the music-consuming public, but, rather, a shake of the hand. “You’ve got yourselves a deal, fans. NOBODY pays for music now!” This, of course, comes with the caveat that if a listener would like to hear what the music actually sounds like, he or she will have to shell out 6-10 bucks to catch a live show. Ain’t that the way it oughta be?

As a hipster it is my duty to both scrutinize and defend my hipster culture. Too many folks take the easy route and point at the artificial nature of the clothing and the quintessential lethargic attitude towards professional and economic progress that rests at the core of hipsterdom, but not enough are pointing out its merits. If nothing else, it certainly endorses an ethic of open critique and investigation, particularly into the arts, and particularly into music. Like Dylan said, and I’m paraphrasing here, a song can’t change the world, but rather, acts as a mirror and bluntly illustrates that which already exists but may go unnoticed. The term P2P was invented, what, 20 years ago? But it isn’t until this very moment that mankind has spent the appropriate time – about one generation – living in a P2P world to have the full realization of its affects on natural cultural reproduction. Kudos, Minks. Let’s just hope that you bring it live, otherwise it may all be for nought. -DFH

Some Crap About LCD Soundsystem

May 14, 2010

I have to admit, I’ve never been terribly into these guys. Always found their vibe, well, faggy. But, since I got turned on to Yeasayer – super faggy – I’m open to the notion that this band might have something good to offer. I learned that their new record is being streamed on their website, so, thinking that that’s a nice usage of the interweb, I checked it out. I gotta say, the internet seems to finally be getting manipulated in the proper way, and music is all the better for it. (There will be a bigger article coming soon about the new wave of music and how the internet is living up to its potential and providing a unique platform for the modern movement, which, this dirty hipster believes, will be just as good as the Golden Era of the 60’s and 70’s. But that’s for another time. A review of the LCD record is in the works, too.)

This was my favorite of the LCD videos on their website. If you’re already a fan, you’ll love it. If you’re not, like me, you’ll love it. -DFH

She & Him: Indie Darlings or A Joke on the World?

April 8, 2010

As I sit around, bored, on a slow Brooklyn night – one that is somehow reminiscent of a scene from Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil – I scour the internet for something to occupy my time. Following a rather haphazard trail through scattered music blogs and YouTube videos, I come across some footage of She & Him – you know, that adorable duo fronted by Zooey Deschanel (sha-wing)? I had never listened to them so I decided to familiarize myself. I’ll let you watch this music video, then I will let you know what I think of this act.

I’ll begin my assessment by posing a question to you, reader: do you remember the line in Fight Club when the narrator (Ed Norton’s character) tells the audience that he and Tyler have been stealing old, rich women’s fat and were selling it back to them in the form of soap? I think hipster might be buying their own recycled fat.

Was I put off because Zooey Deschanel (hubba hubba) is simply too familiar to me. I mean, I have seen Elf like 20 times. but, after browsing through a batch of songs and performances, I began to notice that, no, this wasn’t the case. I was put off because of how extraordinarily obvious it is to see the manufacturing process that must have gone into this “band.” I also began to wonder if Zooey Deschanel (addi addi addi) has been channeling Andy Kaufman and has been screwing with her audience for the past for the last four-or-so years. The songs are completely devoid of any honesty or earnestness. I’m not alone in finding that these songs sound like something written for Music and Lyrics or Crossroads am I?

If the above music video isn’t evidence that Zooey Deschanel (boo!) is either playing an elaborate joke or is sucking the life and soul out of an already-shallow musical/cultural(?) movement, than my name isn’t Dirty Fucking Hipster! Wait…

If you watch any of the duo’s live performances you’ll witness all the obligatory pieces and requisite accouterment of the perfect Indie band. Let’s lay those pieces out:

1. Cute, presumably intriguing frontwoman with pretty voice;
2. Minimalist guitar play;
3. Two chicks in the background not really doing much with Nord at their fingertips;
4. Very busy pocket drumming with a lot of Ringo-esque fills, and a lot of open hi-hat.
5. A sound that is some charming amalgam of the modern and outdated.

Lump on top of that a music video that looks as though someone spent a million dollars trying to make a video that looks like he/she got a friend to do it for free, and you’ve got a load of bullshit called She & Him. I don’t particularly even want to write about this anymore, it’s getting me rather irritated. Needless to say, this dirty hipster is not a big fan. What’s more, Zooey is no longer the Baberham Lincoln she once was. -DFH

Death Cab Crashes

January 16, 2010

Here’s a link to a clip of Death Cab For Cutie at the Critics’ Choice Movie Awards on January 15. This is about as bad a cover as you’ll see/hear.

DEATH CAB COVERS “DON’T YOU FORGET ABOUT ME” BY SIMPLE MINDS

GIBBARD: “Can I get some autotune in the mic, and can you drop me an octave so I don’t sound like a bitch?”

SOUND-GUY: “No, sorry. You’ll just have to let everyone hear how much you suck.”

Josh Groban: Worse Than Ever

January 8, 2010

Any of you watch the National Championship game last night? (That was the big confusing sporting even that prevented you girls from watching the big crossover event on Grey’s Anatomy.) To any of you who did, had you the pleasure of hearing Josh Groban sing the national anthem? As only a dumbass like Josh Groban can, he dropped a lame turd all over it. He did his best impression of an even-more-irritating-looking Nigel Thornberry doing an impression of the Giovanni Jones from Long-Haired Hare. Sorry, I watched a lot of cartoons as a kid. Point being, whoever chose to have that putz get up in front of the nation and sing the “Star Spangled Banner” like that needs to be reported… to somebody. Crickets.

Oh, and for some reason Flea was playing bass along with the band that played my grandparents’ engagement party. Icing on the really weird, bad cake.

Eric Clapton and the Past, Present and Future of Rock n Roll

January 7, 2010

The Beats begat the Hippies;

Who begat the Punks;

Who begat the 80’s;

Who begat scenesters;

Who begat the hipsters;

Who begat ?

For a movement that has shown itself to be nothing if not self-conscious the hipster brigade has great trouble answering the simple question, “what is a hipster?” Is it the clothing, the neighborhood, the music, the diet, the, the, the…? Well, in short, no; it’s not any of those. But, far too often, when faced with the question of what a hipster is, the most common answers given by both hipsters and, um, others alike, revolve around those things. The look, the location, etc. Isn’t that rather silly? In fact, doesn’t that, as a hipster – if you are one – kind of offend you? Have the phenomena of Facebook Live Feeds, Twitter, blogging and internet dating made us so surface-oriented? Have I used enough question marks in this paragraph?

Sorry.

Think of how you’d describe the Hippie movement. I’ll tell you, when I think of those people, the first thing that comes to mind is an ethic, a credo, an ethos – you know, like the tenets of National Socialism, say what you will about them. Same with the Beats and the Punks. Sure, there were physical expressions (clothing, music) that allowed them to identify themselves and be identified appropriately by others; but, to be identified as something and to be defined by something are two entirely separate issues. Yes, a hipster wears a flannel shirt and a vest, and the girls don’t show off their tits or their legs. Yes, a hipster listens to Grizzly Bear. Yes, a hipster lives in north Williamsburg, Greenpoint or Bushwick. Beyond that, there must be something more, no? A definition?!

Before I deliver what I can only imagine will come across as a self-indulgent sermon about hipsterdom, watch this video of Eric Clapton. Trust me, it’ll make sense once put into context.

Hipsters started popping up around the country in the late-90’s. Saddle Creek packed the hipsters’ lunch while Rivers Cuomo put their clothes on. Julian Casablancas and Albert Hammond, Jr. brought the hipster to the big City right around the turn of the Century, and, as typically happens when something catches on in New York, the whole world caught wind. That’s why Lebron needs to come to the Knicks. But, that’s for another post. (And, to be totally honest, this dirty hipster half wishes he’d stay in Cleveland and teach the children a thing or two about loyalty. You remember which sin is Al Pacino’s favorite in The Devil’s Advocate, don’t you?) Once the identity had been disseminated to the masses, pockets of hipsters began sprouting in cities around the world, especially in the northeastern part of the United States. Philadelphia jostled for rank with Brooklyn for the first several years of the aughts. Man Man, The Teeth and Dr. Dog shaped the scene in Philly, which, in turn lent its sound to the Brooklyn bands like White Rabbits and The Harlem Shakes.

Rivers Cuomo - a lesson for all hipsters in fashion

So, that’s the identity. But what about the fucking definition? What. The Fuck. Is. A hipster?!

This dirty hipster has an idea, and it’s not a particularly pleasant one. Ahem…

the hipster movement has no definition!
It’s not a movement!

It’s not a revolution! It’s a reaction.

It’s a reaction of a generation firewalled. This country has grown too big to have a collective consciousness. No number of Facebook messages is going to incite a riot on Pennsylvania Avenue. And, why would we want a riot, anyway? We’re safe aren’t we? Even in these “trying economic times,” are we really all that afraid of slumming in the shadowed streets with distended bellies? Are we worried our president is going to ship us to gas chambers or have his guards open fire on public gatherings? Americans are comfortable. (It’s impossible to stave of generalization, here, so just deal with it. You get my point, don’t ya?) Americans have been comfortable for quite some time now. So, it kind of makes sense that this generation feels the need to be uncomfortable. Self-imposed poverty is nothing new to youth movements. In fact, it’s more or less a staple. The difference this time round is that there is very little more to the movement than the notion of self-imposed poverty, and there need not be more to it. It’s a simple reaction. It’s half conscious, half unconscious, and it’s simple. It may suck to realize that it’s so ordinary, but that’s also kind of the idea, isn’t it? We hipsters are not giving a middle finger to the world. Rather, we hipsters are engaged in a conversation with those who will write our biographies and we are pretending to listen. Is it just me or is there something perfectly and beautifully ironic about that?

One thing the hipsters can certain hang their hats on is that there has been a resurgence of Rock n Roll as a result of the movement’s attitude. Granted, it’s not what Pitchfork or Rolling Stone would classify as “Rock Music,” but that’s because Pitchfork and Rolling Stone don’t get it. Sure, it’s typically more lilting, typically less extravagant than Led Zeppelin or The Rolling Stones or Cream. But, what Rock n Roll is, always has been and always will be, is the musical and ethical expression of the nation’s youth. Luckily, the hipsters survived the 90’s and have successfully separated themselves from the grossly over-produced, over-hyped, over-syndicated dog shit that wedged its way into this country’s treads after Kurt passed. And some really beautiful music has come out in the past five to nine years, and it seems to really only be getting better. As radio dies, bands no longer have to adhere to the 3.5 minute pop structure. As music videos die, bands can once again concentrate on their words and meanings instead of their hair. It’s very nice, but we should be very, very careful about taking too much credit for that. For, who this can all be attributed to is Eric Clapton. And John Lennon and Paul McCartney. To Elvis Presley and Chuck Berry. To Mick Jagger, David Bowie and Marc Bolan. To Bonzo, to Roger Watters. It’s attributable to Tina Turner, Bono and Paul Simon; Eddie Vedder, Anthony Kiedis, John Frusciante, Kurt Cobaine, Billy Joe Armstrong, Thom Yorke, Julian Casablancas and Jack White. It’s all Rock n Roll, man. All of it. Department of Eagles, Girls, Phoenix: Rock n Roll. It’s the way that “Badge,” a track originally recorded in 1968 (that’s 42 fucking years ago, people) was still powerful in 1986 in Switzerland, and was still powerful when Clap, Ginger and Bruce got back together at The Garden in 2006 – and people went ape.

Let’s keep the pressure on. Let’s not let bullshit find its way into the hipster identity, because the hipster identity is all the hipster has. Let’s remember what Rock n Roll is and what it’s all about. It’s about inclusion through filtration. Everything gets a shot (how else is a little spanish dude like Santana going to make it big unless someone says, “yeah, you can open for the Paul Butterfield Blues Band?”) but it’s got to impress to stick. The hipster movement will be dead soon and there will be nothing left but nostalgia. And that nostalgia can either be reminiscent of that which hovers around the 60’s, or it can be that which hovers around the 80’s. I know which one I’d prefer… “Where is my place?” Think about it. -DFH