ENJOYING A GUILTY PLEASURE

INDULGENT FUN WITH KYLIE MINOGUE'S "X"

We all have guilty pleasures; the Boney M album that comes out every Christmas, or the John Denver album you have hidden at the back of your collection. As for me, I have an occasional weakness for trashy Euro- pop. Such is the case with the new Kylie Minogue album "X". It is a terrifically sugary & slick album that has fulfilled my pop cravings for the year. Nobody does pop better than Kylie!

The kind of music on "X" is the type that futurists from decades past would have probably envisioned us listening to by now . Case in point; the song "Speakerphone" sounds like it could have been crafted by some Cylon vixen or by some sassy entertainment bot with its AI run amok. With lyrics like "Drop your socks and grab your mini boombox/ Do the pop lock/ body rock" its as if the robot's rhyming algorithms are in over-drive. Needless to say its loads of fun and one of the best dance tracks to come around in a while.

The lead single "2 Hearts" is good derivative glam rock fun. I am also thrilled that Kylie samples "Fade To Grey" by new wave icons Visage on the infectious track "Like A Drug". There is lots of genre hopping in this album, a bit of R & B, dance, futurist pop and some electro-disco, which to me is great, and not a point of criticism as some reviews have indicated.

Actually, one reviewer suggested that it was a great disappointment that Kylie didn't have more soul bearing lyrics on this album in light of her recent battle with breast cancer. To me this completely misses the point, as Kylie's music has always been about having a good time and losing oneself in sweet and transcendent pop music. Stick to your Sting albums if you want something more confessional and intimate! Remember how boring Madonna became when she went all "spiritual" on us?

To me, the most life affirming thing Kylie could do is to keep on keeping on with her infectious pop offerings. This to me is the best way for her to stick it to cancer, by continuing to provide a rapturous soundtrack that is itself a celebration of life. If I want darkness or reflection I have lots of good music that I can turn to for those moments. When its time for a little booty shaking I am glad that Kylie is still putting it out there. Long live guilty pleasures!

MY CHARLIE BROWN MOMENT

"I think there must be something wrong with me, Linus. Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy. I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel" - Charlie Brown -

So Christmas is a month away and the malls are filled with throngs of shoppers, already overwhelmed by the call to consume relentlessly. I made the mistake of cutting through a Wal-Mart in order to get to another destination in my local mall. Within seconds I was completely overwhelmed by the blinding mass of blinking and neon everything and the concentrated smell of plastic coming from the mountainous aisles.

Actually, this season I have been feeling a lot like Charlie Brown circa the 1960's era Peanuts Christmas Special. I have been walking around, my head to the ground, complaining constantly to anyone who will listen about the over commercialization of the holidays. I can almost hear the music of the Vince Guaraldi Trio following me around as I ruminate endlessly on this topic. Seeing as "Chuck" was complaining about it 40 years a go it is obviously not a new phenomena, though for some reason it has really hit me this year.

I am not trying to be all self righteous and imply that I am above some form of gift purchasing this holiday, its just that I think I have reached a sort of psychic tipping point where I am suddenly aghast at the degree of consumption that is promoted and practiced this time of year. I get really irritated by the endless news reports that imply that the entire fate of the economy is contingent on how much people purchase this holiday season. It turns something that should be a joyful and selfless act into a sort of patriotic effort to keep the wealth circulating around.

This year, all the adults in my family have thankfully resolved not to buy gifts for each other. The kids will get a few, though we are attempting to go for quality, rather than quantity this time and buy almost exclusively from an independent toy store I used to go to in my old neighbourhood. Its the type of place where the people who work there actually play with the toys and have a vested interested in assuring high quality.

Its a small step I know, but I think it will help dissipate the Pig-Pen like psychic dirt cloud that has been following me around thus far. Besides, its hard to find a good therapist for a nickel these days.

THE CHANGING FACE OF THE CONSUMER

In honour of the endless barrage of advertisements reminding us of our duty to consume relentlessly this time of year, I have a composed a modified version of the children's poem Monday's Child. A little tongue in cheek exercise to help me cope with my ambivalence and turmoil about living in such a consumption oriented society. Which day are you?

Monday's consumer is full of desire,

Tuesday's consumer wants to transcend the mire,

Wednesday's consumer is shopping with glee,

Thursday's consumer wants to "buy one, get one free"

Friday's consumer buys endless items for Christmas giving,

Saturday's consumer wants deals and works hard for its living,

But a consumer that uses credit on Sunday to pay

Is able to defer the consequence for another day.


************

LEARNING TO LISTEN AGAIN

REDISCOVERING JOY DIVISION'S "UNKNOWN PLEASURES"

I just picked up the Collectors Edition of the classic Joy Division album Unknown Pleasures, which has been brilliantly remastered. I am reminded again of the transcendent power of bold and dynamic music. I first heard the album (on vinyl!) when I was about 15, and I was immediately drawn into a new universe. In many ways this is what great art or music does, it gives you a key to a magical place that opens your eyes to new possibilities.

I patiently waited all day for my household to become still and quiet (not an easy feat), and in the solitude of the night I put on my headphones and allowed myself to be taken away once again, brought back to that same place I visited so many years ago. I rediscovered an old friend, something that is both sacred and familiar.

In many ways, in our busy and "grown up" lives music is often relegated to background noise, something to hum along to while we do the dishes or as we run errands in our car. I make it a point now and then to give my music the time and space that it deserves, so a few nights a week I will sit back and actively listen whenever possible. To me this is a subversive act and I would highly recommend it.

I close my eyes and see bold new landscapes while I listen. I allow my mind to wander freely and I think about the people and places I associate with the music. In the case of this album I think about what it felt like to be first hit with this stark and visceral music that inspired me profoundly.

It is a haunting album and it takes me on a rare trip to that interior world where illusion is laid bare, and our essential solitude and inability to truly understand another person is exposed. This is expressed beautifully in the closing track I Remember Nothing;

Get weak all the time, may just pass the time,
Me in my own world, and you there beside,
The gaps are enormous, we stare from each side,
We were strangers for way too long.

To me this is actually quite life affirming, as to go to this place is to understand that our need for connection is vital and the absence thereof is devastating. Striving for this no matter how illusive true connection or understanding may be is an essential part of what it means to be human. This striving makes us truly alive.

This final song fades out gradually and towards the end there are slight dissonant noises, pipes clanging, perhaps glass breaking in the background. Thankfully, the inner fold of the CD case has the same black and white photo of a door that was on the original album sleeve. It is slightly ajar, offering a glimpse into something that is rare and magical. I am glad it is still there. I intend to enter in more frequently.

THE SUPERMARKET CHRONICLES - Part 2

AN ODE TO SHOPPING LISTS

I have a confession to make. Before I state it I must add a qualifier first; anyone who has been kicking around on this planet for more than a few decades is entitled to be a little strange, so please keep this in mind as I reveal my slightly abhorrent behaviour.

Here's the deal - one of the things I like to do when I make the inevitable weekly trip to the supermarket is to pick up and read discarded shopping lists leftover from countless others who have made the same journey before me. I find it to be endlessly fascinating to read what items are essential enough to warrant being immortalized on paper, only to be discarded haphazardly afterwards.

One thing I have noticed from perusing these lists is that our cultural propensity towards leading manic and frantic lives has almost universally forced us to develop a sort of supermarket shorthand. For example; toilet paper = TP, chocolate milk = choc mlk, Frozen Pizza = Frzn Za . Its like e-mail without spell check or cute emoticons.

I know with my shopping list I guard them like gold. For some reason I find it to be a deeply personal revelation worth protecting. I mean, do I want others to know that sour cream and maple syrup are actually regular grocery items in my house?

I was also thinking how it wold be fun and kind of subversive to leave fake shopping lists lying around for other's to find. Here's an example of one I might leave, I call this one the MacGyver;

• plastic shoe lace tips
• paper clips
• matches
  
• chocolate
  
• sand paper
• chewing gum
• tin foil
• spool of thread
• wire coat hanger
• duct tape

I also think that if the average North American shopping list fell into a wormhole, traveled back through time and landed a into someone's hands in the 1920's, they would think we live in this totally magical place where you could buy fresh fruit any time of the year. They would probably envision oranges being hand picked and delivered by robots who worked in large domed fruit plantations on the moon.

I also think if the same shopping list was dug up and found 70 years in the future the reaction would be one of mixed horror and envy. Our little list would personify what would later be known as "the decadent era" of pollution spewing trucks traveling 1000's of kms to deliver oranges to us, after picking them up from large ocean freighters that also traveled halfway across the world. Our future descendants probably picture us writing our list while idling our car, eating fast food, talking on a cell phone and sipping a latte in a paper cup that only contained "10% post-consumer paper".

It really is an odd little blip in our collective history that we can buy oranges in December. Anyways, theses are the types of things I think about while shopping at the ultra-mega-super mart. Odd perhaps, but it does keep me somewhat sane. Sort of.

List'O'Rama: "Television Songs"

This week's list- Television songs. Most of these songs do not paint a flattering picture of the beloved idiot box. It was actually hard to think of any songs espousing the joys of television that weren't being blatantly ironic. I would love to hear selections from other people. Now excuse me while I flip through 57 channels with "nothing on".BLACK FLAG - TV Party (1982) - A raucous punk rock anthem celebrating the vapidness of incessant TV viewing - "don't talk about anything else, we don't wanna know, we're dedicated to our favorite shows". The best part is when they shout out the names of the shows that dominated television at the time - That's Incredible, Hill Streets Blues, Dallas etc.

DAVE EDMUNDS - "Television" (1978) - This rockabilly tinged number makes a sarcastic statement about the mindless love of television; "I don't care whats on/ if it's happy or sad/ I don't give a damn if its good or bad/ I sit and watch till it drives me mad/as long as its on I'm glad".

THE DISPOSABLE HEROES OF HIPHOPROSY - "Television, the Drug of the Nation" (1992) - A scathing industrial strength hip-hop polemic about the impact of TV on America. Michael Franti sees TV as having a desensitizing & numbing impact, creating a world where "a child watches 1500 murders before he's 12" and "armchair generals & quarterbacks can experience firsthand the excitement of warfare". It is also the place where "image takes precedence over wisdom". A piece of sharp and erudite social commentary that is sadly missing from much of the hip-hop on the airwaves today.

EX MODELS - "Its on Television" (2001) The Brooklyn based no-wavers provide a wonderfully choppy and chaotic song that begins with hastily uttered lines "there is no inspiration, only calculation". Musically, it sounds like the lead singer of Devo hired the Gang of Four for his backing band and developed a penchant for frequent and unpredictable time changes. This is a compliment of sorts.

PETER GABRIEL - "The Barry Williams Show" (2002) - Peter Gabriel takes on the persona of Barry Williams, a Gerry Springer inspired talk show host that represents the lowest common denominator on television. The lyrics are great; "Dysfunctional excess is all it took for my success/and when the punches start to fly the ratings always read so high/ it’s showtime". I would highly recommend checking out Gabriel's live DVD "Growing Up Live", which includes a splendid performance piece built around this song, including Gabriel filming the audience and playing Barry Williams with a preacher's zeal.JAPAN - "Television" (1978) - Clocking in at 9 minutes and 12 seconds this glam rock epic is one that David Sylvian would probably prefer that fans skip over. Not me though, I love Japan's more raunchy Hansa era pre 80's recordings, which are less arty and polished than their later albums. It appears that in this case Sylvian is agitated by a television obsessed lover; " Well but you're changing my love... It's television all night and day/ It's all you ever wanted ...fucking television!". Complete with screeching guitar solos, a light funk bass line and space age synths fading in and out throughout. This is loads of fun!

(Note: I couldn't find any video footage for this song, though if you want to appreciate my glam rock bliss check out these clips from Japan's early incarnation - Communist China, Adolescent Sex, & Sometimes I Feel So Low)

JOEL PLASKETT - "Television Set" (2005) - A playful diddy from the Canadian singer/songwriter, complete with hockey arena organs bouncing along throughout. Here TV is the only escape from the drudgery of life, where the "kids were screaming, wife was bitching", logically extending to a chorus of "I want a television set to free my mind/ television set to drown 'em out ... there ain't nothing better for the down and the out". I guess its better than drinking.

PUBLIC ENEMY - "She Watch Channel Zero?!" (1988) - Chuck .D. and his crew rage against mindless television viewing and its numbing impact. Specifically, an attractive woman gets a distorted view of men by watching soaps; "her brains being washed by an actor, and every real man that tries to approach.... he gets dissed like a roach" and notes that "her brains retrained by a 24 inch remote". Some usual great direct commentary from Public Enemy (their second consecutive appearance on List'O'Rama!)

TALKING HEADS - "Television Man" (1985) - Through a jangly pop number with funk underpinnings David Byrne and company explore how TV shapes the world for those willing to allow it to take them away; " When the world crashes into my living room, Television man made me what I am".

ROGER WATERS - "Watching TV" (1992) - From the appropriately titled "Amused To Death" LP, the former Pink Floyd singer tells a story about a woman killed in the Tiananmen Square massacre. He grieves for an innocent life lost, and notes that unlike many other lives ended needlessly out of the abuse of power, this one serves a higher purpose due to it reaching the world on TV. The lyrics that end the song are wonderful; "She's everybody's sister/ She's a symbolic of our failure /She's the one in fifty million / Who can help us to be free because she died on TV/ And I grieve for my sister". Some images are too powerful not change the world in some way.

BOOK BLOGGING: THE GUM THIEF - part 3

A BOOK WITHIN A BOOK, WITHIN A BOOK........

Metafiction abounds in Douglas Coupland's universe. Here's the run down; Douglas Coupland is an author, he writes a book called The Gum Thief about a sad middle aged man named Roger who himself writes a book called Glove Pond, which is itself about a failed writer going through a creative dry spell, who in turn decides to write a novel after meeting a much more successful and younger author. It kind of makes me dizzy.

It is playful, funny and at times quite sad. Roger exercises his own demons through his Glove Pond novel, and you get a unique perspective on how elements of Roger's own universe seep into his own fiction. I found myself getting drawn into the story within the story and felt a real attraction to the absurdly tragic characters inhabiting Roger's imagination. The extra insights gleamed from Roger's journal entries enhanced this experience and provided a unique window into the creative process and the catharsis that often accompanies this.

I began to wonder about how far you could go with the novel within a novel etc. If you went far enough, say you are up to your 50th story within a story etc, perhaps you would open the door to some parallel universe where you can see another version of yourself huddled over a laptop, typing furiously about your own story within a story.

Reality as you know it would likely disintegrate if you went too far with this, and the world of your dream life would begin to take shape before your eyes. You could hop between each story within a story and interact with the many characters that inhabit your imagination's landscape.

After making small talk with some of your characters you could suggest politely that they engage in some snappier dialogue once in a while. In turn they might demand better working conditions and a little more consistent attention from you.

Things might get ugly when some of the characters created by other characters demand greater aspirations from their prospective authors, who in turn would come to you for advice since you created them in the first place. The battles over intellectual property would be fierce and unending in these infinite stories within stories, though I imagine you would have the power of veto at times.

Worst of all they would all have some trace of your own insecurities or neurosis. The collective therapy bills would be staggering. They would also all speak in a similar fashion, despite your efforts to provide each within their own unique voice, often overusing annoying catch phrases that seemed like a good idea at the time.

It would be endless fun though if you kept running with it - the novel within a novel within a novel within a novel within a novel ... Ad Infinitum. Linear reality is overrated anyways. Thank you Douglas Coupland!

THE SUPERMARKET CHRONICLES - Part 1

My ongoing surreal adventures in the supermarket ....

Part 1 - Fake Plastic Trees

I am numb and disengaged, staring vacantly at a wall of glass freezers in the frozen food section. My listless facial expression is accented by an abundance of artificial light. There is a complete absence of shadow anywhere. My illuminated body is part of glaring and blinding mass, indistinguishable from my surroundings. I could be anybody.

I retreat into the safety of my Ipod and search for an appropriate soundtrack - Fake Plastic Trees by Radiohead. I switch it on, keep my eyes low to the ground and begin my search for familiar grocery items. I could easily keep my eyes shut while continuing to walk around effortlessly.

The music builds slowly and begins to vibrate through my headphones. The words echo through my body - "her fake Chinese rubber plant, in the fake plastic earth" - I begin to feel disoriented and queasy. The vibrations expand throughout my body and somehow I have become a conduit for the music to be broadcast into the heavens. I can feel it everywhere.

Overwhelmed by this sensation I climb into my shopping cart and curl up within a womb of grocery items. Suddenly the cart begins to glide slowly down the aisle, propelled by an unknown force. I realize now that I am inside of the video for this song. The items lining the shelves have become indistinguishable from each other, save for blocks of colour that define each section - bright green, orange and yellow, items that could be anything.

Somehow my version of the video is different though, as there are no blatant and defiant signs of humanity among the endless plastic neon aisles. There is no one knocking over cans, shaving their head, or cat walking down the aisles. Everyone appears oblivious to the changes that have transformed the environment. People continue to shop as normal, carefully examining each item on the shelf despite the fact that they are all identical.

I begin to scream and stand up in my cart, though no one takes notice. The cart moves faster and I hold out my arms, knocking down row after row of items. The noise as various items smash and break is unsettling even to me, though it is of little consequence to anyone around me. People walk over the strewn items treating them like only minor obstructions, like dutiful robots staying the course

The music bounces off the walls and the words echo throughout the cavernous market - "But I can't help the feeling, I could blow through the ceiling, If I just turn and run" - the entire building begins to rattle and vibrate. It is so loud that you can feel the music more than you can actually hear it. The level of energy is intense and overwhelming and it feels like the whole place could blow at any moment.

Suddenly the music slows down to a whisper. There is moment of silence, perhaps a second, though it feels longer. In the corner of my eye I see something striking - an old lady is resting on a chair in the middle of the aisle, contentedly looking around at the chaos around her. She notices me and gives me a knowing wink......

The song is over and I am now standing over a pyramid of abnormally shiny green apples, not a blemish in sight. My cart is full. I wipe my brow, take the headphones off and walk towards the check out line. I feel alive.