Collapse Board at 7: The 25 Most Read Articles
Collapse Board celebrated its seventh birthday yesterday. To celebrate, here’s the 25 most read articles over those seven years. Enjoy!
In the last few days I’ve gotten into two very intense debates via Facebook about whether or not Kreayshawn is a racist.
Naturally Facebook would be the perfect forum for such a topic, as it would for a debate about any number of things that could also be neatly listed under the heading “stupid crap”, but it’s also a forum where you can type the most well-thought out point ever and still be presented with a response that’s the equivalent of “just because”. The most common, negative opinion of Kreayshawn is that she’s a racist, privileged, appropriating, female misogynist. You’ll primarily only encounter these opinions coming from the mouths and furiously typing fingers of women however, and do you know why that is? Because women are taught to turn a questioning eye towards any other female who has, or is doing, something that she herself doesn’t have or do – and because men don’t give a shit.
This, we’re told, is the Season of The Witch. I beg to differ, at least for the reasons given. I like witches.
The following document was obtained by Collapse Board from an unnamed source. It is currently being distributed to all major music publications and websites. Despite the threat of lawsuit, we have decided to publish this document verbatim. The author of the document is unknown.
This memo is being sent out to prepare everyone for the major musical event of 2013. I am speaking, of course, about the 20th anniversary reissue of In Utero by Nirvana. Our friends at Pitchfork will produce a news item around May letting people know that the reissue is coming. Details will be scant, but it will nevertheless grease the wheels and allow a suitable amount of excitement to build up before the actual reissue. When the reviews start to appear it is vital that they all hold to a similar pattern.
Lana Del Rey (formerly Lizzy Grant) has become a searchable name following this year’s release of her 7” featuring the songs ‘Video Games’ and ‘Blue Jeans’.
I find the story of Lana Del Rey fascinating, but probably not for any of the reasons you would expect. It’s a story about an artist who may be receiving too much attention, too soon. Everyone is talking about how everyone is talking about Lana Del Rey, which makes one expect that she will disappear as quickly as she was conjured up. Of course, not before receiving a healthy dose of backlash. Children can be so cruel, you know.
Questions about authenticity appear whenever she is mentioned. Questions like, “Is she really an independent artist?” “Can she really sing?” “Does she really write her own songs?” “Does she really edit her own videos?” “Is she a fabrication of Interscope Records?” Even, “Are her lips real?”
ARE HER LIPS REAL?
Foo Fighters bum rush the stage to tumultuous applause from an awfully dressed, overweight crowd. They break into the first of many forgettable songs that only have 3 chords the entire time. There’s a 60-year-old guitarist nobody addresses. He looks like he’s won a competition to fuck a pornstar and can’t believe his luck. Second song starts. It’s the second song I learnt studying classical guitar in year 10. Nobody’s sued him because the rights have probably expired. It’s the same as the first song but from a different album. Taylor Hawkins looks like a doe-eyed Kurt minus the smack. A fresh new handbag for Dave to carry around. Kurt spins in his grave. Dave does an ego walk. Third song starts; it’s ‘Learn To Fly’. For a second you forget about how bad the first two songs were and then they superimpose an embossed frame over Dave’s face. Kurt rolls in his grave again. The stepdad guitarist smiles. The rest of the band looks pissed off. ‘Breakout’ is the fourth song. I don’t know how it’s possible to embellish this song even more but they manage to turn it into a carbon copy of the first two tracks. Oh wait here’s a blues solo. I think he might be 65. Kurt rolls in his grave yet again.
- The way The Smiths once covered their sleeves in 60s references, the way Wu-Tang Clan embraced the language and iconography of Shaolin, the way Oasis loved The Beatles, that’s the relationship Iceage has with xenophobia and white supremacy — it may not be the window, but it’s damn sure the drapes.
- Let’s check out the evidence:
Like most Americans, I had never heard of Gotye until a week ago. I still have no idea how to pronounce the stage(d) name of Wally De Backer. “Gotcha”? (Maybe) “Got Ye”? (An Old English thing), “Go Tye”? (Wally won’t eat dinner unless everyone at the table is dressed in formalwear).
Artistically, it’s half a notch above a magazine advert for chewing gum, but it works OK enough as pop music. I suppose it might help a few middle-schoolers get through the god-awful cruelty of adolescence, help them develop emotions and that kind of stuff. At some point though, they’re going to need something a little more grown-up.
Honestly, it’s a relief to find out that the most popular album in Australia isn’t entirely a wretched, unendurable piece of shit. In fact, if I were 15 years old, I’d probably even like it. Sadly, I’m not 15 anymore. And neither is Gotye, so what’s his excuse?
1. NIRVANA REGULARLY SWAM WITH SEA LIONS
Kurt Cobain was a notorious swimmer. At home his walls were studded with 2nd and 3rd place trophies and ribbons from competitions he had entered as a boy. Fuelled by his love for the ocean, competition and big eyes, Kurt instigated a routine of swimming with sea lions, and in typical lead-singer histrionics, all but forced the other two members of Nirvana to attend. In 1993 Novoselic, clearly numb from his experience said, “I got pulled out by a riptide and something poked out at me, it was a sea lion”. Friends later remarked that the most prosaic expression of Cobain’s sea lion obsession came in the form of the Jackie O sunglasses he became famous for.
Kathleen Hanna is a feminist artist based in New York City. Her art has entertained, inspired, raised awareness, educated, created thoughtful discourse and sparked creativity in others for over two decades. Celebrated as spirited front-person for the groundbreaking 90s punk band Bikini Kill and more recently avant-garde multimedia group Le Tigre, Kathleen has, for better or for worse, worn her heart on her sleeve, navigating and sharing her journey. While exploring herself, the world and her place in it, she has become an incredibly loved and truly special person to many, to those that know her personally and to those that know her simply through her art. Latest musical project, The Julie Ruin, finds Kathleen with no expectations, creating for pure enjoyment, relishing the company of collaborating with friends and living a balanced, flourishing life.
This article was originally written for a feature in Cyclic Defrost, but that was well over a year ago so I figure they long since lost interest in me.
Here’s a list of some records that have influenced me. For the sake of simplicity and driving a handful of Arcade Fire fans towards some decent music, I’ve called them my “10 favourite albums of all time”.
Also, as I cannot get my head around the concept of narrowing down my life to a list of 10 records, I’ve kept the parameters narrow: what I’d term “Rough Trade circa 1979” music, the sort of stuff Simon Reynolds covers in his book Rip It Up. Even so, it’s absolutely absurd that The Specials aren’t in there – or This Heat. Or Elvis Costello. Nina Simone. Irma Thomas. The Shangri-La’s. Throbbing Gristle. The Residents. Saturday Night Fever. There’s not even any Buzzcocks, for Bangs’ sake! (Slaps head.) Plus around about 10,000 others.
For reference, I sometimes listen to Sixties bluebeat when I’m at home; and Christmas songs.
This is quite my favourite ‘news’ story on the web this morning.
A disgruntled Seattle music fan has offered to collect together $10m and give it to Weezer, if only River Cuomo and the gang will do the decent thing and SHUT THE FUCK UP.
“Every year, Rivers Cuomo swears that he’s changed, and that their new album is the best thing that he’s done since Pinkerton, and what happens? Another pile of crap like Beverly Hills or I’m Your Daddy,” James Burns told my former US newspaper, Seattle’s The Stranger. “This is an abusive relationship, and it needs to stop now. I am tired of my friends being disappointed year after year. I am tired of endless whimsical cutesy album covers and music videos. I’m sick of hearing about whatever this terrible (and yes, even if you like the early stuff, you should be able to admit that they are wretched now) excuse for a band is up to these days. If all 852,000 of you (really?) who bought Pinkerton pitch in $12, we will meet our goal. I beg you, Weezer. Take our money and disappear.”
Art can do what the hell it likes.
Art can mock and ridicule. Art can stomp over precious tropes with its big fat arty boots. Art can steal and appropriate and recast. Art can trash tradition and deify trash. Art can shock and horror and razzle and dazzle. Art can use violence and misery to its own ends, be those ends high or low. Art can be Grand Canyon magnificent in its righteousness or as shallow and plastic as Cher Lloyd’s reedy voice and still be Art and fuck any thoughts of what is or is not “proper”. (There’s no real, there’s no fake! Simulacra upon simulacra! Rock on, Monsieur Baudrillard!) Art can glorify or sully or spend its whole day in its knickers making mud pies out of your memories. Art can stick its tongue out at the bourgeois and piss on the vicar’s flowerbeds. Art can fire canons at pettiness or ridicule your dreams.
Art has no responsibility. Not to you, not to me and not to the starving children of Africa.
Because Art has LICENCE.
Bully for art.
First things first. Nirvana had a bigger effect on American culture than any rock band since The Beatles. I was there, and anyone who tells you any differently is a goddamned liar. They changed the way people dressed (flannel!, thrift stores!). They changed the way people acted (sullen! unenthusiastic!). They changed television (My So-Called Life! Friends! Punk Rock Car Commercials!). They changed movies (Reality Bites! SFW! The Doom Generation!). Suddenly it was cool to be poor. It was cool to wear cheap clothes that were falling apart. It was cool to be sarcastic. It was cool to believe you were doomed. Nevermind made the world a little less chipper and a little bit more real.
I sought advice on this.
The following comment was left on Wallace’s spoof Brian Wilson post late last night (Brisbane time). I have no way of ascertaining whether it’s for real. Obviously, I could email the fellow on the address given below, but if someone’s gone to the bother of making the comment up, then creating a new Gmail account isn’t going to worry them. I’m inclined to believe it is, simply because it seems like an incredibly elaborate AND obscure hoax to pull … why would you bother? (Of course someone could be running a hoax comment with Lorren Daro’s real email address. If that proves to be the case, I will immediately take this down.)
One contributor advised me not to bother running it: they felt that, if it’s real, it’s simple self-promotion, posted to settle old scores. Another stated: “I’m kind of a ‘let the chips fall where they may’ kind of guy”. Although I agree with the former I also side with the latter.
I have, of course, have no way of verifying any of the content is for real or not, even assuming it was written by Lorren. That’s for you to decide.
A pre-script – rebuttals of unfavourable album reviews are lame, self-serving and immature – this one is no different. Cries of bias, confusion and vanilla lack of taste are every day and I care for them not a fuck. But sometimes, one-times, a man may feel compelled to stand up (or sit, in my case) against what he feels is a great injustice and exhibit his right to reply – well, this is my time and I hope it’s not my last because, to be quite honest, I’ve really enjoyed it. Please read whilst accepting the implicit understanding that any forum-based comments of the nature of ‘if you can’t take the criticism then don’t release the record’ are even more passé than this piece itself which is to say – very passé indeed.
I grew up in a rural area outside a logging town in northwestern California, and I wanted to play guitar ever since I could remember. I did have a sense of how great it might feel to perform and sing, but I had no idea how long, convoluted, and confusing the path could be.
I am pretty sure my original inspiration to play guitar came from hanging out at hippie barbeques which usually featured homemade music, a few folks picking or strumming and everyone singing folk songs. Inspired by Pete Seger and the mid-century folk revival, my dad had bought a banjo and learned a couple songs (‘This Land Is Your Land’ and ‘Skip To My Lou’ to be exact). One of my earliest memories was of my dad picking both of those songs his banjo on the porch with a few of his friends. I was amazed. I was hooked.
The album deemed to be the 22nd best Australian album ever made is True Colours by Split Enz. No matter how hard anyone wants to argue, Split Enz are a New Zealand band. I’m sure someone, possibly whoever decided that they would make the list, would come back with the fact that the album was recorded in Melbourne. This may be true but by the same argument would then make the sizeable chunk of the albums not recorded in Australia ineligible from being included.
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that this 1.08 minutes is why I love Sinéad O’Connor so.Katy Per
Got to love pop artists who love Nina Simone. Without exception they miss EVERYTHING that made sweet fierce Nina so great.
Prime Minister Julia Gillard may be a confirmed atheist, but if the Australian music-buying public is anything to go by, she’s a tad out of step with her electorate. You might say she’s not singing from the same hymn sheet. God Is Able, an album of contemporary Christian music released by the stratospherically successful Hillsong mega church in Sydney, recently debuted at Number Three in the Australian chart, becoming the 10th album of Christian pop to reach the Top 10 there since 2002.
Some have claimed that the following is plagiarism. That’s ridiculous.
From BuzzFeed (a website probably at least a quarter of my Facebook friends visit regularly, and several of which quote regularly in their Facebook feed).
1. She likes to have fun.
4. She looks hot even when she’s not trying.
7. She’s sexy without being skanky.
13. She laughs off the criticism because she’s fabulous.
17. She works the hair flip.
I’m going to be honest here, I initially tried to ignore the criticisms of ‘Blurred Lines’. After ‘Get Lucky’ I was hungry for another pop smash and ‘Blurred Lines’ seemed to fit the bill. Then I picked up on the rumblings of discontent.
If you’ve been following the debate (They’re racist! … They might just not be aware of what they’re doing … They’re not racist or stupid! … They’re totally stupid… and racist) you’ve probably already made your mind up about whether these four young Danish punks are neo-Nazi fascists or just a bunch of irresponsible, naïve kids.