by Jeffrey Webb, edited by Erik van Rheenen
The thing about the Jesus of Suburbia is that he doesn’t start out as a nihilist— he starts out bored. Victimized by his broken home and his own peculiar slice of suburban hellscape, sedated and titillated by the alternating lows and highs of television and Ritalin, the “son of Rage and Love” flees the “land of make believe [that] don’t believe” to the Big City in a Sartrean search for meaning. All set to alternating windmilled guitars and soft-keyed interludes, multi-layered harmonies and fury-fueled shrieks. By the end of the nine-minute, Pete-Townshend-on-speed anthem that is the opera’s introduction, Billie Joe Armstrong has shown that anarchy begins at home, and apathy is its gateway drug.
The story that follows—the story of Green Day’s 2004 magnumopus, American Idiot—is a bildungsroman that’s equal parts Joseph Campbell and J.D. Salinger, and all the tension that pairing entails: hero (whiny jerk?) leaves home, faces adversity (but not real adversity?), and returns home redeemed (a total failure?). Any attempt to appraise its merits thus acts as a Rorschach test of one’s aesthetic gestalt.
Wowsers is this ever good. Actually makes me want to relisten to American Idiot for the first time in ages.
"Please stop selling shirts carelessly" wtf are they supposed to interview the people buying them like what does this dude want
"She smiled and laughed long enough to make you go away"
In high school I wouldn’t wear band shirts in public because men would stop me on the street and ridicule me for not knowing a certain obscure song by the band or fact about one of the members, like what the actual fuck.
tiny disgusting little man harasses woman he doesn’t know and attempts to shame her for wearing a shirt
I used to wear t-shirts from the band “Slayer” and like these weird dudes would come up to me all the time and would be like “Slayer!! Woo!” and want to talk to me about “Slayer”, and I’m like “I’ve never even heard one song by Slayer, I just like the shirt.” and then they like get this weird confused look on their face and are like “You should listen to Slayer bro! Woo! Slayer.” and now I don’t even wear my Slayer shirts anymore.
Hmm. I was with this up until the last one.
If a guy approaches a gal about her band shirt because he thinks he has something in common with her (and people with things in common is a big part of what makes life awesome), and she tells him she doesn’t actually like the band, and his response isn’t some form of “how dare you” but is instead “well, this band is something I love, check them out and you might find it’s something you love too,” that seems pretty ok to me?
It’s a fuzzy line, and this feels to me like it’s on the right side of it, but maybe I’m wrong?
Should you just back away and say “sorry to bother you then”? Or just not start the convo in the first place (frankly, virtually always my course of action, which might be because I’m doing it right but maybe is just because I’m being socially awkward & losery)?
fuckin patriarchy man, making shit complicated for everyone!
As an article in the new issue of TIME reveals, Bono, Edge, Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen Jr believe so strongly that artists should be compensated for their work that they have embarked on a secret project with Apple to try to make that happen, no easy task when free-to-access music is everywhere (no) thanks to piracy and legitimate websites such as YouTube. Bono tells TIME he hopes that a new digital music format in the works will prove so irresistibly exciting to music fans that it will tempt them again into buying music—whole albums as well as individual tracks. The point isn’t just to help U2 but less well known artists and others in the industry who can’t make money, as U2 does, from live performance. “Songwriters aren’t touring people,” says Bono. “Cole Porter wouldn’t have sold T-shirts. Cole Porter wasn’t coming to a stadium near you.”
If we think the present is wrong, we want the past to have been right, and to have existed in an eternal, unchanging state of rightness. But just as U2’s falling sales are the result (at least in part) of having been released in the MP3 era, Cole Porter’s success was equally as much the result of his unique historical circumstances. His success on Broadway was only possible because of the mass urbanization that had taken place in America over the last 50 years. The success of his songs independent of the stage relied on two inventions only recently popularized: radio and recorded music. Had Porter been working 20 years earlier, he would have had to rely on sheet music and home pianos for his music to spread, and would have consequently composed in a different way—and, presumably, a less successful one. We are all the product of historical circumstance, and while it is important to recognize the ways in which the present moment is different from those that came before, we have only two options for how to deal with these changes: adapt our own behavior to the new environment, or work to push through changes that will bring about some other new, more beneficial context. But there is no going back; culture is, as statisticians say, path-dependent, always determined by what came before. To pretend otherwise is de-plorable.