Channels "To the New Mandarins"
"To the New Mandarins" (mp3) makes me wonder about the disjuncture between rock music and leftist politics, and if there's any space in there for good, important music to emerge anymore---more political dissenters have access to more information than ever right now, but that doesn't necessarily mean they know what to do with it. Channels are represented by Dischord Records, home of Fugazi, the last great (greater than great) band to effectively meld politics with music, and make both more interesting in the process. But what made Ian Mackaye's lyrics so effective was his tendency to make them personal, to take massive, weighty issues and remake them as something that could be acted upon by normal dudes in the suburbs. Sure, most "action" that would occur was trapped in the realm of representation, but that's neither here nor there. Fugazi was a great political band because they triggered a response from their listeners and fans other than pogoing and acting judgmental toward other fans. Much more of an effective, progressive-minded response than, say, to Rage Against the Machine, who ended up providing soundtracks for pissed-off metalheads and impudent teenagers and then turned into Audioslave. Anyway, I'm wondering where a band like Channels fits on this continuum. They're certainly about as far left as can be in American politics, but is that enough? If a band is appealing to only those who know what the "Mandarin" is in the song title (from what I remember, it's a reference to an ideologically driven and powerful civil servant---here, I think it's safe to assume they're referring to American Straussian neoconservatives), are they really out to change minds, or are they just preaching to the choir (or, I suppose, choiring to the preachers)? And does that really matter, in the end? Can protest music be a self-contained artistic exercise? I guess Stereolab answers that question pretty well, so I'll move on. I like this song, but I'm not completely sure if that's because I sit on the same side of the American partisan aisle as the band, or that I'm drawn to angry puns like the one from the song's yelled opening: "It's tricky to relax/While pacing fore and back/Call it your patriot act/The panic room's in back/With victory on tap/Show 'em your patriot act!" But I'm positive I don't like the song because it taught me anything new or steeled my disdain for the administration any more than it's already steeled, but then again, it's probably not trying for that. It's probably trying to do what a lot of politically-themed rock music is trying to do these days---serving as more of an arty public catharsis more than as a call-to-arms. That the song turns out to be a catchy neo-D.C. punk-style anthem with lacerating, detuned guitars and scattered, hectic drumming doesn't hurt my apprectiation for it, though---even to the point that I can perhaps think about excusing the occasional lyrical clunker like "I grew up on science fiction, it doesn't mean I want to live in it!" Because, come on, if goofy slogans don't demonstrate a healthy amount of political savvy in the current climate, what does?Buy Waiting for the Next End of the World from Dischord here.
OKAY, BUDDING PHOTOGRAPHERS, STEP UP: Chicago's David Vandervelde, whose first public performance I attended and described here, is working on his first full-length record. He emailed me (and a bunch of other people, I'm assuming) because he's finally got some mp3s to listen to, free from the Myspace tether. The one that really nails me to the wall is "Jacket" (mp3), a throwback if there ever were one, directly at the feet of Electric Warrior/Slider-era Marc Bolan. It's hella fine, but that's not the extent of why I'm keeping you here after the bell. You see, Vandervelde's also looking to make a cover for his album (get out!), and because this here is what he'd originally selected (shot down), he'd like to enlist any of you talented artistes out there to do the dirty work for him. Email photos (sexy, but not pornographic, he says) to imhot@davidvandervelde.com, and he'll be sure to go with the most provocative one.
Labels: song
posted by marathonpacks at 7:06 AM
4 Comments:
You weren't kidding about the Marc Bolan reference with the song Jacket, although I don't hear it so much in the music as the vocals.
I've been a big fan of all of the bands J. Robbins has been in. Listening to this MP3 in addition to the Open EP, the streak continues . . .
you got the lyrics wrong in the channels song
I just happened across this post googling for lyrics to the Channels record, and I had to qeigh in since you're touching on something I've thought quite a bit about; how politics and music mix, or, more often, don't. I generally like my music to be politically aware, but obliquely so. As such, I've always preferred the J. Robbins lyrical approach to Fugazi's. He tends to get his point across by working around the outlines of it, alluding instead of exhorting. There are of course notable exceptions(Election Night Special and Breathe come immediately to mind) and I think those stick out as missteps compared to the rest of his body of work, though not egregious ones or anything, just average solid punk/protest songs instead of challenging, intricate, tense stuff. So, it's kinda disappointing to see him going more in that more direct, Fugazi-esque direction here, though perhaps the Current Situation leaves little choice, looming over everything as it does. I haven't listened to the new record enough yet to figure out if it works as well as the older stuff for me in context or not.
Still, how about a different angle on this; music not just as protest, but as witness and historico-emotive record? Assuming we come to our senses and right this ship politically in the next few years(a big assumption, I know), it'll be very interesting to go back in 20 years and listen to records like this, Ted Leo's stuff, etc, just to evoke a sense of what it was like to live through this madness. I think of it as similar to the way that I go to Woody Guthrie to get an idea of what it felt like to live during the Depression. Same with Bob Dylan and the turmoil and moral crusading of the 60's, or early punk and post-punk and the powerlessness, cynicism, and rage of the Reagan/Thatcher years. These certainly aren't primary sources, but they're an excellent way of fleshing out the picture and getting a more immediate and personal look at how people felt about and coped with their times. Even if it doesn't work as protest, I think a lot of it works in that way. Not every piece of art has to aim to persuade, even if it is dealing heavily with politics.
Post a Comment
<< Home