Solid State

If you read closely enough, every now and then there's some pretty interesting stuff in the Burlington Free Press. To wit, today's front page featured a lengthy (for the Freeps, anyway) piece on a ballot proposal by Burlington City Councilmen Tim Ashe and Ed Adrian to decriminalize the possession of small amounts of marijuana. Essentially, the gist is that our law enforcement resources could be more wisely spent elsewhere. So why waste time, money, manpower and legal proceedings arresting and prosecuting stoners with little more than dime-bags? It's a fair question. And Ashe and Adrian are wisely seeking to bring the issue straight to the people — rather than directly sparring with legislators — by challenging the council to include it on the March ballot.  I don't partake anymore, but I'm awfully curious to see how this one turns out.

This isn't the first time Mr. Adrian has championed a cause related to smoke-ables and their legal status.  Two months ago, the Ward-1 Democrat proposed an initiative — Disney-rrifically titled "Family Friendly Smoking Restrictions" — to ban cigarette smoking on Church Street Marketplace. Initially, the resolution met with enough skepticism to be defeated by the council 8-5 — even CSM director Ron Redmond called the proposal "a solution in need of a problem." But the motion could still potentially find its way onto the March ballot. So if the cards fall the right way, smoking cigarettes could be a more serious offense than having weed. Yikes.

Before I continue, I need to admit I'm a smoker. At least until after the Super Bowl, when I've promised friends and family I'd quit.

When the bar smoking ban went into effect a few years ago, I was skeptical. Like a lot of folks, I wondered if the ban would cut into bar revenue, or worse, make going to bars suck. Obviously, it didn't on either count. And, once I got used to what drinking holes actually smell like without smoke to mask the odor, I actually found myself enjoying them just as much, if not more. For one thing, you rarely encounter self-righteous non-smokers standing outside a bar in the smoking area. I'm not saying segregation is a good thing, but it's nice to enjoy a smoke without some asshole feigning a cough like they've got Black Lung and/or telling me I'm going to die. As the late, great Bill Hicks put it, "Non-smokers die every day."

That said, I still disagree with the bar smoking ban because — drum roll, please — bars are private property. If I own a bar, I want the right to allow my patrons — who are, by the way, adults — to enjoy their legal vices.

Or, perhaps I want to provide refuge for folks who'd rather not come home from a night on the town smelling like a pack of Winstons.

The point is, it should be up to bar owners to decide what kind of bar to run, employees to choose the environment in which they work and patrons to decide what sort of establishments they visit.

At best, barring smoking on and around Church Street seems like yet another step towards the "pussification" of  downtown Burlington, as I believe former Red Square owner Jack O'Brien put it — though at the time he was referring to the bar smoking ban and the enforcement of noise ordinances, if I remember correctly. At worst, it seems a thinly veiled attack, directed at alienating a specific undesirable segment of the population and sweeping them under the cobblestone.

You know who I'm talking about.

The folks who congregate around the Town Center are frequently cited as an unseemly blight on the the city's crown jewel, both in conversation and the press. Frankly, I can't say that I disagree. They're loud. They're obnoxious. They engage in very private arguments in a very public place. But they have a right to be there too. Church Street is, after all, a "commons" and doesn't exist solely for the prissy pleasures of the double mocha-sipping Eddie Bauer crowd. Besides, if the cops can't enforce loitering laws, how will they tackle smoking? Would they confiscate the Camels but leave the grass?

I have a litany of reasons why I think the ban is a bad idea. But rather than occupy the soapbox any longer, I'll point you in the direction of a rock star. This is, after all, a music blog, right? . . . Right?

Anyway, Joe Jackson — you may remember him from such classic 80s tunes as "Is She Really Going Out With Him?" and "Steppin' Out" — is an outspoken champion of "smoker's rights." He's written pieces for the New York Times and the London Daily Telegraph challenging the philosophical and scientific arguments behind anti-smoking campaigns. His latest manifesto is an interesting and (occasionally) illuminating look at a side of the debate rarely given much publicity. I can't say I agree with him completely, even as a smoker. But it's certainly something to chew on . . . and then spit out in a disgusting brown wad into an empty beer can.

Ah, nicotine. I'll miss you so.

I recently joined Jazzercise, and with the help of the best company Secret Santa gift EVER, am attending classes several times each week. Cause it's 2008, baby! 2008! Time to get my ass in gear.

Jazzercise no longer includes leotards and legwarmers (I know. Damn.), but luckily does still include one hell of a workout mix. With artists ranging from Bruce Springsteen to Justin Timberlake, the songs truly help me keep my energy up and get my dance on. Which got me thinking about what kinds of songs keep me the most motivated, and why.

Apparently someone at the New York Times was thinking along the same lines as me because they ran this article last week. Titled "They're Playing My Song. Time To Work Out." the article looks into the science behind workout music by speaking with Dr. Costas Karageorghis, who has spent the past twenty years studying the effects of music on physical performance. In fact, the good doctor even created a music rating system to rank the motivational qualities of certain songs in a fitness context.

The findings of Karageorghis' studies? Apparently the ideal song for a high intensity workout is "The Heat is On."

HELL YEAH GLENN FREY!

That one did not make the cut on my personal workout mix but I did listen to Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl" twice while on the eliptical this morning...

Karageoghis bases his rankings on the beats-per-minute or B.P.M. of the song, which you can read more about in the article, though it seems pretty self-explanatory. Apparently the ideal B.P.M. for a workout song is 120-140.

I'm not sure about the B.P.M. of any of my own workout songs, but I do know that pop-hip-hop and hardcore tend to be the genres I choose. I run pretty damn hard to Kanye West's "Stronger" and I don't believe there's any better song to stairmaster to than "94 Hours" by As I Lay Dying. I mean, think about it, any song that drives a curly-blonde-haired girl to want to open up a pit in the middle of the Y is likely to burn some extra calories.

So what gets you all moving?

That is, assuming your workouts include more than a mop-top hair toss and a casual drag on your Parliament Light...

Hey there, Solid State.

Since we've (sort of) been  talking about band marketing, I thought I'd pass this along. I'm not sure if this kind of thing has been done before — I'm guessing it has, though maybe not locally — but it seemed pretty creative to me.

Local reggae outfit, Pulse Prophets, are releasing their new CD, Breathe,  this Saturday night at Nectar's and have an interesting promotional gimmick lined up. For $5, you can enter a raffle to have the band play your house party. The proceeds from the raffle will go towards converting the group's van to run on veggie oil. So it's sort of for a good cause to boot! In a self-serving sort of way, I guess.

There are, of course,  a few stipulations involved. According to the band, they are:
- The Pulse Prophets will not be responsible for any noise violations.
- The Pulse Prophets will perform two sets with a break in the middle.
- The Pulse Prophets will rock your party!

Fair enough. But who supplies the weed?

Additional restrictions are that the party must be within 100 miles of Burlington, the band needs a 10'x20' space in which to perform and that the scheduled date will be mutually agreed upon. Sounds fair to me. However, I might have pushed a little harder on the rider if it was my band.

Back in the day, I briefly did some intern work for Higher Ground as Alex Crothers' assistant. One of my duties was photocopying contracts and mailing them out to bands. My favorite part of the job was reading the "artist's demands" section because they were often hysterically over-the-top.

I'm guessing I'd be violating some sort of code of ethics/law by divulging specifics, but let's just say that a certain heartthrob singer-songwriter, in addition to the standard booze and food requests, actually included condoms as part of his deal. Specifically, Trojans, if I remember correctly. I'm not sure a particular size was designated.

Some of the requests were almost comically simple in comparison. A rather iconic folk figure asked merely for this: a pot of black coffee and a ham sandwich. Awesome.

In closing, here's a picture of an idiot:

That is an actual tattoo of the New England Patriots' logo emblazoned on the side of this gentleman's head. Not only that, the dude has plans to replicate Patriots QB/golden-god Tom Brady's helmet by tattooing another logo on the other side of his head and the number 12 at the base of his skull. But "only if the Pats win the Super Bowl." Right. 'Cuz, that'd just be really dumb otherwise.

Sooo . . . nothing much to report from this side of the interwebs today. With the surge of April-esque weather currently sweeping through our little corner of the world, my thoughts are drifting out the window and my body will soon be following them out the front door. Speaking of which, why the hell are you reading this right now? Go outside.

Despite the siren song of sunny skies, I did manage to begin updating the Solid State blogroll. It's a task I should have tackled months ago, frankly. But, to be honest, until a couple of weeks ago, I had no idea how to do it. I'm special that way. But you learn something new every day, I guess.

I mostly focused on adding some new bands to the roster and there will be more to come. If you don't see yours, feel free to send me an e-mail and let me know.

I also added a few local music and culture blogs. For some reason they show up in black type. I'm not sure why, but at least you'll know which ones are new.

Anyway, check 'em out and we'll see you tomorrow.

Until then, here's another bizarre music video from India. I really enjoy these way too much.

I had the pleasure of seeing Husbands perform live for the first time this past Saturday, and... wow. If any of you are feeling a little jaded, with music or life in general, go see this band. Not only are they local, but they're so freaking cheerful you can't help but have a smile on your face watching them perform.

The band labels themselves as Ska / Punk / Reggae, but should really add a third slash followed by 'gymnasts' because I have to believe that Justin Gonyea installed some sort of sub-floorboard trampoline into one corner of Wasted City for that much bouncing to have gone down.

Did you know that Tyson Valyou can simultaneously play a Casio B3 and do the running man? And yes ladies, he's single.

Plus any excuse to see Alex Pond's face while drumming is worth it, you know? That's got to be one of the highlights of the greater Burlington scene right there.

Anyway, they're playing January 25th at The Monkey House. I'll be there, and so should you. I might even consider taking my chucks out of retirement for the occasion, if only to better get my skank on...

Have you all gone to see Juno yet?

Mistress Maeve has recommended it as the date movie of the season and I have to say I agree with her. I mean, what could beat free clinic jokes, snarky teenagers, and a throwback soundtrack including The Moldy Peaches?

I fell in love with The Moldy Peaches early on in college when a friend put them on a mix tape for me to listen to on my rides to and from Maine. I liked their humble feel, and I felt a strong connection to the lyrics of one of their songs.

So imagine my surprise when two of Juno's main characters started singing "Anyone Else But You," as I sat in the theater in Connecticut next to my own "part time lover and full time friend" with whom I had always shared the song.

At first I got really excited, and grabbed my date's arm. Then I suddenly felt angry towards whomever had chosen to feature that song in such prominence. That had been our song! And no matter how many other couples had shared the song before us, it would now forever be known as the Juno song.

Obviously my anger is completely irrational, but I'm wondering if anyone has similar possessiveness over a song or album that later (in this case, much later) sprang to national attention. You know, the kind of song you want played at your wedding but that you'll never tell anyone you want played at your wedding in case they play it at their wedding?

I have one of those, too.

Some fun trivia relating back to Juno - apparently star Ellen Page was the one to suggest that her character might be a fan of The Moldy Peaches, and also the solo recordings of Kimya Dawson. I might be mad, but she was... well... dead on. The music really makes the movie. The soundtrack also includes tunes by Belle & Sabastian, Buddy Holly, and Sonic Youth, and ranked in the bestsellers on iTunes for over a month. So if you're the kind of person that needs musical motivation to go to the movies, there it is.

And while we're on the subject... what are your favorite movie soundtracks?

Mine include Empire Records, Ghost World, and The Royal Tenenbaums.

And Clueless. I own that one on cassette.

Oh and P.S. — here's a video of The Moldy Peaches performing the aforementioned song at the Juno premier. Their mic situation was a bit of a nightmare, but fun to see them perform live for the first time since 2004!

There's hardly an aspect of our modern existence that remains untouched by the evolution of the Internet. No longer merely a global porn network, the web is redefining the way we communicate with each other and share information, the way we consume and the way we do business. Whether the on-line onslaught is a blessing or a curse is open for debate. But regardless of where you stand on the proliferation of the 'net, one thing remains clear: it ain't goin' away.

One particular aspect modern Western life likely irrevocably changed is the music industry. The so-called "death" of the music biz has been discussed ad nauseum, so I won't belabor the point here. However, the way the business works now is markedly different from any point in history and continues to evolve and improve(?) with increasing rapidity. In my line of work, I'm reminded of it several times per day.

I still receive "outdated" modes of promotion like one sheets, glossy photos and — gasp! — actual CDs. But, more and more, the way bands, labels and promotions companies spread their gospel is through electronic methods. Downloadable albums, photos and press kits, links to "special" press websites and MySpace pages — I never realized my MS profile would have professional applications! — are almost par for the course these days. And it's not just the means of delivery that's changing. The promotional content is changing as well.

Rarely will you see a band boast about how many CD units they've moved, since very few bands have success with actual discs anymore. Instead, they'll point to the number of MySpace hits they've accrued, or how many Last FM plays they've had. Chart success is now essentially social networking success. And in many ways, building a fan base is easier now than it ever has been.

Or at least that's the commonly accepted/practiced wisdom.

The real truth is that while there are more avenues open to fledgling artists than ever before, the apparent ease of self-promotion has empowered an enormous glut of artists all vying for what is essentially the same slice of the same old pie. Major labels, thought to be a dying breed, have recognized this fact and are adjusting their strategies accordingly. For more on this — and a thorough debunking of the Arctic Monkeys/MySpace myth — check out this article by Adam Webb in UK's Guardian Unlimited.

So then, what's a struggling indie band to do? Answer: Research.

Though the methods of promotions are changing, most of the principles remain the same. Assuming your band doesn't suck, you just need to do your homework. Actually, not sucking isn't even a prerequisite. Just look at Arctic Monkeys. Zing!

Here's a good place to start. This e-book link was sent to me by NEK MC Thirtyseven of Wombaticus Rex and contains some very insightful — and up to date — information on dealing with the changing face of the music industry as an artist or promoter. And it's free! Written by Andrew Dubber  of UK-based independent music advocates/strategists New Music Strategies, the book weighs in at 96 pages and is, pound for electronic pound, one of the most helpful guides to modern promotion I've seen. Dubber runs the gamut, challenging popular misconceptions of independent music marketing strategy and offering sensible solutions to common biz roadblocks. Think of it as Indie Band 101. Check it out. You just might learn something.

Roughly a decade ago, there was an awkward skinny kid named Jamie who played drums for a local ska band called The Skamaphrodites — which was largely made up of awkward skinny kids, including yours truly. As many a teenage drummer does, Jamie had aspirations beyond merely pounding the skins and took to writing songs of his own. We all thought his heart-on-sleeve pop confections were really cute in a lost-puppy-dog sort of way, patted him on the head and went back to the business of crafting juvenile pop-ska, taking ourselves waaay too seriously and drinking underage. Ah, the folly of youth!

As most young bands do, we eventually flamed out — in a blaze of Natty Light-fueled debauchery, of course — and went our separate ways. At that point, we all lived together in an Old North End hovel and I distinctly remember the soundtrack to our breakup being the off-key caterwauling and clumsy acoustic strumming emanating from Jamie's second floor bedroom. I wonder what ever happened to that guy?

Well, that awkward, skinny kid named Jamie became an awkward, skinny man named James and is seeing his star rise in ways few Vermont-born musicians ever have.

Signed to Bjork's One Little Indian label, James Levy is becoming something of a big deal at home and abroad, as evidenced by this recent blurb in Spin magazine. The clip was sent to me this morning by a friend in Boston and I almost spit coffee all over my computer screen when I read it.  I mean, I had breakfast with the dude at Magnolia last weekend. And now here's his pouting mug staring back at me from one of the world's most popular music rags. Crazy.

However, you know you've hit the big time when a disgruntled music critic creates an entire website devoted to espousing his hatred of your music. In what might be the first MySpace-inspired fracas in the history of rock feuds, some hack calling himself "Andersonenvy" rips into Levy and has produced two animated shorts on the topic. Here's the first:

To see the second and read the review that started it all, click here.

Frankly, the whole thing is pretty ridiculous. But still, it's got to be at least a little bit flattering for someone to have such a strong opinion of your work that they devote so much time and energy into telling the world. Even if they hate you.

The old adage is that living well is the best reward. Snark-laden cartoons and all, it appears that James Levy — don't call him Jamie — is doing just that. Congrats, man.