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Aaah, as I thought...this thread and the $189 EH pre with it's enigmatic internal tattoo have come together to inspire us, humanity, to champion the points of art vs. money vs. politics vs. survival vs. Starbucks vs. the fancy good Mr. Dave Matthews. I had a feeling this stamp would raise the roof.
Now, here's a question for thought. Is it so that a consumer (maybe an artist himself) can pay an artist a concert fee and expect that only the approved songs can be performed? That only the commonly acceptable monologues can be displayed (ever been to an old Prince concert?)? Can she expect to only hear the songs about love and fishing, the things the consumer believes in? Is art not a reflection of life? Are some of those reflections from an artist, be they in song form yet or not, just that, a reflection? I pose this thought not in anger or protest, just as a thought ;-) Heck, when I pay $60 to hear "the poopypants remix concert" I'd like not to get 3 hours of "lettuce is bad for ferrets" and 4 minutes of "poopypants" but where's the gauge for this one? Anyone? Long live poopypants!
Some of the best musicians of our time have given me great music and disgusted me as human beings all at once. I remember when I was 13 I went to a Buddy Rich concert. After the show I was able to go out to his bus for an autograph. In the 50 seconds I was in the bus i was able to ascertain that this guy was an absolute ass to people. The way he talked to some of the kids in front of me and another adult on the bus just nailed that case closed. I found out years later that this was often his demeanor. But, Good Lord, what a gift! What a great show! What a great performance! I guess it's kind of like how you go to the same barber for a few years because of his amazing skill and thoughtful insight into your lovelife and the repair of your 1979 volvo wagon only to have him one day, on a perfectly good Saturday with sunshine and everything, make some racist remark that forever destroys his total worth to you. What a drag! Such talent. Such wisdom! I've heard many comments from the pulpit of art that were not requested. Heck, I've heard some songs from artists I love that I thought sucked as well. If those same artists only wrote what they should write instead of what they were passionate about we might as well all live in elevators. Heck, I'm a huge Opponent of first person shooter rap (I like some rap, though. Bad times? Report it don't propel it, I say.) just like I don't buy White Supremacy records. I think they do more harm than good. But, I guess somebody feels it deep in their heart regardless whether or not I subscribe to it and wish it didn't exist. CursEd artists always mixing up art and income. It's hard to find a soapbox without somekind of sneaker ad or campaign sticker on it. I guess we all gotta believe in somethin'. Trick is, when can we say it? Should we hold it in 'til we get out of the place where it might travel the farthest, be heard the most. Heck, I don't know. I just wanna get this thing racked.
And that's the way it might is, Wednesday December the 1st, 2005
Happy Birthday, sis!
McKay Garner
Bounce Inventive Audio
Los Angeles
Now, here's a question for thought. Is it so that a consumer (maybe an artist himself) can pay an artist a concert fee and expect that only the approved songs can be performed? That only the commonly acceptable monologues can be displayed (ever been to an old Prince concert?)? Can she expect to only hear the songs about love and fishing, the things the consumer believes in? Is art not a reflection of life? Are some of those reflections from an artist, be they in song form yet or not, just that, a reflection? I pose this thought not in anger or protest, just as a thought ;-) Heck, when I pay $60 to hear "the poopypants remix concert" I'd like not to get 3 hours of "lettuce is bad for ferrets" and 4 minutes of "poopypants" but where's the gauge for this one? Anyone? Long live poopypants!
Some of the best musicians of our time have given me great music and disgusted me as human beings all at once. I remember when I was 13 I went to a Buddy Rich concert. After the show I was able to go out to his bus for an autograph. In the 50 seconds I was in the bus i was able to ascertain that this guy was an absolute ass to people. The way he talked to some of the kids in front of me and another adult on the bus just nailed that case closed. I found out years later that this was often his demeanor. But, Good Lord, what a gift! What a great show! What a great performance! I guess it's kind of like how you go to the same barber for a few years because of his amazing skill and thoughtful insight into your lovelife and the repair of your 1979 volvo wagon only to have him one day, on a perfectly good Saturday with sunshine and everything, make some racist remark that forever destroys his total worth to you. What a drag! Such talent. Such wisdom! I've heard many comments from the pulpit of art that were not requested. Heck, I've heard some songs from artists I love that I thought sucked as well. If those same artists only wrote what they should write instead of what they were passionate about we might as well all live in elevators. Heck, I'm a huge Opponent of first person shooter rap (I like some rap, though. Bad times? Report it don't propel it, I say.) just like I don't buy White Supremacy records. I think they do more harm than good. But, I guess somebody feels it deep in their heart regardless whether or not I subscribe to it and wish it didn't exist. CursEd artists always mixing up art and income. It's hard to find a soapbox without somekind of sneaker ad or campaign sticker on it. I guess we all gotta believe in somethin'. Trick is, when can we say it? Should we hold it in 'til we get out of the place where it might travel the farthest, be heard the most. Heck, I don't know. I just wanna get this thing racked.
And that's the way it might is, Wednesday December the 1st, 2005
Happy Birthday, sis!
McKay Garner
Bounce Inventive Audio
Los Angeles
