A talking cricket convinces a sentient puppet that he can become human. But that’s impossible, we immediately protest; that can only come true in the movies. The cricket persists: “If your heart is in your dream, no request is too extreme.” The cricket espouses an art of im-possible aspirations: it cannot happen, but he will continue to act as if it might. In such struggle are born yet other possibilities.
Read more "“When You Wish Upon a Star” (Cliff Edwards)"Author: shiuanth
“Sharia Law in the U.S.A.” (The Kominas)
Tit for tat. Taqwacore groups, inspired by Michael Muhammad Knight’s novel, The Taqwacores (1993), are “bad Muslims” who have adopted punk’s love of “deliberately bad music, deliberately bad clothing, deliberately bad language and deliberately bad behavior.” In the novel, the band Vote Hezbollah (actually, it’s a Muslimgauze album title) writes a song called “Muhammad Was a Punk Rocker,” in which it is affirmed that the founder of Islam “tore everything down” and “rocked that town.” In reading this trax, therefore, from perhaps the best-known group inspired by MMK, it’s important to remember that the irony is laid on with a trowel. What’s under investigation here is a certain axiomatics: the Islamic-American singer claims to have had the “cops chase me out of my Mother’s womb,” and “my crib was in State Pen before age two.” After that, adding insult to injury, “the Feds had bugged my red toy phone.” Given this post-9/11 neo-internment of Muslim Americans, everything else falls right into place: the singer turns terrorist and his hyperbolics are astounding: he’ll cut off a hand from every American man, and take the president’s daughter into his harem in order to have his “brother” anally rape her, for example. Finally, there’s one more turn in this struggle or game of tit and tat: the trax’s historical background samples imply either that America will respond to the song’s threat of Sharia terrorism in such a way as to return us to the “duck and cover” mentality of the 1950s (note the trax’s shape as a stray cat strut), or that such a neo-Cold War mentality already governed the treatment of Arab Americans since at least the 1990s. If the latter is the case, then we’re truly caught in a vicious circle. But axiomatics are not destiny, and taqwacore bands prove that American immigrants from the Middle East are more likely to become satirists than terrorists. And that’s dangerous to every form of institutionalized axiomatic analysis.
Read more "“Sharia Law in the U.S.A.” (The Kominas)"
“Thrown to the Wolves” (Death Angel)
JoAnna Russ’ narrator in We Who Are About to . . . attempts to practice ars moriendi while her companions on a possibly uninhabited planet are preoccupied with the survival of civilization. While she doesn’t realize that her antagonists are also practicing the art of dying in a modern way, there is the realization that either option demands extreme violence. Analogically, different iterations of the christian guidebooks—or, currently, “best practices” manuals—to ars moriendi, at times, rehearse familiar debates about the propriety of innovation. This trax, from the album Ars Moriendi, exploits this tension by refocusing. The “pack” coming for you values “no compromise,” and managed banishment is their praxis. You won’t be left alone. The assault is constant and demands ritual sacrifices of whatever type of family you’ve culled together. There are no future decisions. One remains “hiding,” “choking,” and “beg[ging]. The key is that you’ve been “betrayed,” as there once was a promise since withdrawn by the state. What can be picked from the remains? Here, it’s the interruption of “worth” and the “dignity” of it all.
Read more "“Thrown to the Wolves” (Death Angel)"
“Political Science” (Randy Newman)
The “science” of Washington, D.C. political science amounts to nothing but “us,” “them” (who hate “us,” but we don’t know why), and the use of deadly force (because bombing will “set everybody free”). The blind state-based terrorism of soft-shoe shuffling, aw-shucks good intentions.
Read more "“Political Science” (Randy Newman)"
“The Big Payback” (EPMD)
Rapping’s not a “tribe,” but even if it was, it wouldn’t be “fancy” or adorned with the lust to enforce tribalisms. Impossible, but it’s the strategic maneuver that allows for agency: claiming minimal racial identity instead of having a “Romi-et-oh or Juliette romance story” over it. “No stunts,” “sorrow,” or “pity.”
Read more "“The Big Payback” (EPMD)"
“El Picket Sign” (El Teatro Campesino)
The farmworker strike in the fields becomes interminable, as growers die and “another became a grandmother.” The picket sign an ongoing attachment (“with me all my life”), and even replacement for persons. Permanent resistance as cardboard-thin, flat refusal of the intolerable, without resort to subjects.
Read more "“El Picket Sign” (El Teatro Campesino)"
“Plug Tunin’ (Last Chance to Comprehend)” (De La Soul)
“Gift wrap” without a material gift. Aliens offer alternative frequency (“naughty noise”) to dispossessed; droning and swaying as response and revision. The sample as the “fa-so-la-ti,” with no guarantee of a next. Conduit logic.
Read more "“Plug Tunin’ (Last Chance to Comprehend)” (De La Soul)"
“Nature Boy” (Nat King Cole)
Written in the 1940s by legendary proto-hippy Eden Ahbez (“ahbe,” to friends), who, according to Joe Romersa, much later disputed his own final, key lines (“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn/Is Just to love/And be loved in return”), arguing, “To be loved in return is too much of a deal, and that has nothing to do with love.” Doubled/echoing structure of this track, as well as other versions (Jon Hassell’s comes to mind), is therefore too safe and cozy. That is: love, to be love, should not be subjected to economic calculus, exchange, “return,” and must instead approach the (impossible/singular) limit that is the gift. (Again, that is: to be done with “fools and kings,” one needs first to interrogate the final law of Beatledom: “The love you take is equal to the love you make.”)
Read more "“Nature Boy” (Nat King Cole)"
“Society’s Child” (Janis Ian)
Thirteen-year-old songwriter Ian notes that the conclusion, in which a white girl from New Jersey tells her African American crush object that “I can’t see you anymore, baby,” was motivated by a sense of logic and realism: “I don’t think I made a conscious decision to have the girl cop out in the end, it just seemed like that would be the logical thing at my age, because how can you buck school and society and your parents, and make yourself an outcast forever?” Intriguingly, the trax suggests that “one of these days” the singer will overcome society’s pressures to conform, and will buck the system. But let’s also remember that even those who refuse their parents and peers are also part of the “system,” too, and that the concept of “society” (in Pierre Bourdieu’s hands, for example) accounts for both conformists and refuseniks. Indeed, as renegade African American historian J.A. Rogers documented in a mountain of publications, the social world has sexually crossed color lines in all times and places. So this trax documents not “realism” per se, but merely Ian’s particular probability. Another logical realist, down the street, didn’t manage to write a song, but already is packing her bags.
Read more "“Society’s Child” (Janis Ian)"
“Amen, Brother” (The Winstons)
Urgent, celebratory, and kinetic, this trax—the second most sampled in history—is trans-temporal, extending backwards and forwards. Most known as the vessel or container for the “Amen Break,” it’s also a participant in citation as well, incorporating musical figures from previous songs. This “groove robbing,” as Kodwo Eshun deems it, runs in a deeper, more sustained way than we’re led to expect, too. It goes back to “Amen!,” the gospel tune, which can possibly be traced back to The Presbyterian Hymnal. After that, things get murky. The key is whether we dutifully follow the tendency to work against the secularization of the song. After all, it is testimony. The Winstons’ addition, however, of “brother” in the title issues a challenge: must a profession of faith be directed infinitely outward or can it be shared, agreed upon, enjoyed while avoiding a consolidation into an aspirational grouping? Yes, but only if such an agreement eschews the power to confirm or elect.
Read more "“Amen, Brother” (The Winstons)"