by Chris Alarie
"Tidy universe" seems like a contradiction in terms. After all, the universe is an unimaginably vast, chaotic, hostile place composed primarily of mysterious substances such as dark matter and dark energy. But even in this vast chaos, the laws of physics function as an underlying order. On Tidy Universe, the new album by his Dirty Snacks Ensemble, Oakland-based vibraphonist and composer Mark Clifford similarly balances order and possibility in a set of songs that explore the intersections and tensions between composition and improvisation.
Among the tags for Tidy Universe on the Dirty Snacks Ensemble's Bandcamp page is "chamber jazz". This is an apt description. Clifford—who plays vibraphone and keyboards in addition to his compositional and occasional vocal duites—and his ensemble certainly have jazz chops and the album features some impressive improvisational passages, particularly saxophonist Aram Shelton's work on the album. But Clifford's background is in composition and all of these songs1 lean heavily on that foundation. To return to the cosmological metaphor, if the Ensemble's improvisations represent the chaos and possibilities of the universe as we observe it, Clifford's compositions are the laws of physics that dictate the shape and contour of those possibilities.2
Clifford's compositional skills are impressive and the sophisticated, multi genre songwriting is one of the most enjoyable things about Tiny Universe. Considering that Clifford's main axe is the vibes, it is unsurprising that the most immediate touchstones are late-1960s, early-1970s albums from Bobby Hutcherson and Milt Jackson, such as Now! and Sunflower. Similarly, one can hear the influence of Andrew Hill and Eric Dolphy—both of whom featured Hutcherson on some of their greatest albums. But the album also brings to mind Joni Mitchell's mid-70s fusion albums,3 Canterbury scene prog weirdos like the Soft Machine, and even Sleepytime Gorilla Museum's prettier moments. All of these influences coalesce into a collection of complex-but-catchy songs that reward repeated listens.
Clifford offers a decidedly different interpretation of the phrase "tidy universe". He explains that it comes from Carl Sagan's "Pale Blue Dot". To Clifford, it serves as an indication of earth's small position in the universe and a reminder not to worry too much about the difficulties in creating an album such as Tidy Universe.4 The album's cover, a painting by Austin Matthews of three hikers walking a path beneath mountain spires reaching toward toward a star-filled sky, encapsulates both interpretations of "tidy universe". A hiking excursion is not unlike the performance of a musical group such as the Dirty Snacks Ensemble. Each hiker explores his or her own path just as each musician finds his or her own way to perform their parts. But at the head of the line is their leader and at their feet is the trail on which he leads them, just as Clifford leads his ensemble through the paths of his compositions. Alternately, the image evokes the sense of one's small place in an expansive, expanding cosmos. Clifford ties the Ensemble's genesis to the canyonlands of Utah, where he draws inspiration from the "freedom [he] get[s] from feeling so small in a place that is so vast."
Tidy Universe will be available from Recollect Records and the band's Bandcamp page on June 11. The Dirty Snacks Ensemble will play a record release show for the album that evening at The Peralta Station in Oakland, California that evening.
Chris Alarie is Spectacular Editor-in-Chief of Uncanny Valley Magazine.
1 Save for the three thankfully brief "Bobby" interludes.↩ 2 I've had a number of conversations over the years with Clifford about his frustration with finding the right balance between composition and improvisation in various groups that he's played in and written for. He's found the right balance on this album by leaning more toward the composition side.↩ 3 "Peepee" is especially reminiscent of Mitchell's "The Jungle Line".↩ 4 He also says it is a bit of a playful dig at himself for being a disorganized person. Having played in a band with him for three years, I can attest to the veracity of this bit of self-criticism.↩
by Chris Alarie
Many of you have been clamoring to know where Uncanny Valley Magazine stands on this year's presidential election. Please allow this to serve as our official endorsement for the 2016 presidential election.
On the one hand, it would be easy to endorse Bernie Sanders, whose sane but dramatic, left wing agenda is probably the only plausible plan that any candidate has put forth that would stand even the remotest chance of preventing America from eating itself. There is, perhaps, something understandable in endorsing widely reluctantly accepted candidate Hillary Clinton, as she is almost certainly going to be the Democratic nominee and the final line of defense against President Donald Duck Trumpet. And, of course, our general, default stance on politics is Vote 4 Doug. And we would be remiss if we did not point out that Ted Cruz still has not come right out and denied being the Zodiac Killer. But the uniquely bizarre tenor of this election, as well as the extent to which stakes that have been raised regarding the future of our country, we can truthfully only offer the following endorsement:
Voting is for Nerds.
Thank you and God bless the United States of America.
Chris Alarie is some stupid joke title affixed to Editor-in-Chief of Uncanny Valley Magazine.
Please enjoy this list of 100 things which we made to celebrate our 100th post on the blog! Thank you and have a nice 100.
Sincerely,
Chris100, Alexis100, and Doug100
1. People with really nice hair
2. Spending too much time in the sun
3. Tiny people
4. Troublingly burnt coffee
5. Discovering you have a fortune cookie leftover
6. No, like, really, really tiny people
7. Not wanting to be a pirate
8. Walking through a puddle you didn't see because you are fucking oblivious
9. Electronic portraits of pig presidents painting pictures of pralines
10. An icicle farm
11. Spinning plates
12. Arms
13. An outrageously long line
14. Filthy pennies
15. Whey
16. Mr. Donnie Wahlberg
17. Qualitative assessments of value
18. Personal space issues
19. Doom
20. Idle plates
21. A haircut
22. Formal corrections to an outdated newsletter
23. Mailing lists
24. Color
25. My blue hoodie
26. Spilling most of your water while trying to walk
27. Plato
28. Liftoff
29. Unfulfilled potential
30. Seven
31. Jammed up
32. Entropy
33. Weigh
34. Cops
35. The uncanny valley (not the magazine)
36. Lurid grafitti
37. Inflammation
38. Standardized tests
39. Sore thoughts
40. Doug
41. Passive aggressive notes
42. A stubborn animal
43. Ghost
44. Quietly counting the days
45. Basic income
46. At the gates of dawn
47. The person who coughed on their hand and then went through a door you were just going to go through, leaving germs on the handle
48. Glue
49. Paranormal activity
50. Animals in captivity
51. A real ham sandwich
52. Lust
53. Spelling errors
54. Obsequiousness
55. Energy cheetahs
56. Mostly forgettable movies
57. Loam
58. Uncanny valley
59. The time your teacher called you out for sleeping during lecture
60. Rich, frothy milkshakes
61. Cheapness as a sense
62. Seven cheese pizza
63. A national anthem
64. Cash
65. Four cheese pizza
66. Freak
67. Charm
68. Knowing your place
69. Steel beams
70. Anarchy
71. Speeding
72. Cheap heat
73. Anchovies
74. Amphetamines
75. A swan's language
76. The Pacific Ocean
77. Losing a finger
78. Peculiarity
79. Camping
80. Captain Eyepatch
81. Way
82. Volatility
83. Forgetting your name, again
84. Flag
85. Baseball
86. Second person narration
87. Mostly forgivable movies
88. Karl the Fog
89. Knowing every night could be the last
90. Eight-track
91. Twins who aren't
92. Many cheesed pizza
93. Heat
94. Design flaws
95. G#
96. Diamond
97. Jet fuel
98. Cribbage
99. An obelisk
100. The valley
Alexis Faulkner is Unicorn Editor-in-Chief ofUncanny Valley Magazine Chris Alarie is Spectacular Editor-in-Chief of Uncanny Valley Magazine Doug Slayton is Professor Editor-in-Chief of Uncanny Valley Magazine
by Chris Alarie For more than five years, Derek Barber has been a busy, integral part of the Oakland music scene. He's lent his prodigious six-string talents to a number of bands, including Bells Atlas, Astronauts, etc., Madeline Kenney, and In Watermelon Sugar (my old band), among others. But in revent years, he's turned more of his attention to his solo project, Perhapsy. Barber is preparing to release the second Perhapsy album, Me Tie Dought-ty Walker, on March 3rd. The album, which he recorded over the period of several years with his friend Jonathan Thompson, is a lush, nostalgic slice of midwestern sincerity and musical sweetness. I interviewed him about the album and his plans for Perhapsy.
Derek Barber of Perhapsy
Uncanny Valley Magazine: First of all, what took so long? I remember you starting to work on this album more than three years ago. Derek Barber: Well, it's a combination of a long-distance musical relationship with my Olympia, WA-based, long-time friend Jonathan Thompson (who recorded the majority of the album and played drums on it) and being busy with my other two projects Astronauts, etc and Bells Atlas. To be honest, there were a couple moments when I considered scrapping the whole thing and thought it may never be finished.
UVM: Who else plays on the album? What was the recording process like? DB: Aside from Jon Thompson on drums, backing vocals, and a few various instruments, I enlisted the bass guitar talents of my friends Christian Carpenter and Scott Brown. However, I do play some bass on the album as well as pretty much all the instruments (guitars, keys, vox, etc) which I enjoy doing. The album was recorded mainly in Oakland—drums on your kit at the old practice space, in various apartments, and also with a good deal of help from Bijan Sharifi at Robot Envy studios. He's the guy who mastered it. The mixing was done in Olympia by Jon and myself though.
UVM: This album has a very particular sound. What were you aiming for in terms of production, etc? Do you feel happy with the results? DB: I'm a firm believer in trying to make the best sound possible with whatever tools are at your disposal. I put a lot of stake though in Jon's magical ability to tweak meager sounding things into a really interesting and fuller musical vibe. He did the same sort of thing with the first Perhapsy album (which was pretty much all-instrumental) yet this time around I kinda wanted things to be a little more sloppy hi-fi. I'm pretty happy with it.
UVM: This album reminds me of a lot bands and styles (post-rock, 90s indie rock like Built to Spill and Yo La Tengo, midwestern second-wave emo, even some mainstream alternative rock like the Smashing Pumpkins)—most of which date from the mid-to-late nineties. I also know that you are very much interested in the popular culture from when you were a kid/teenager (e.g. your Jurassic Park and Neverending Story tattoos; the fact that the album is named after a story from Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark). Do you consciously look back to the music of your early teenage years in your songwriting and production style? Or is it more something that filters in unconsciously? DB: It's definitely subconscious, most of the time. I've become more and more comfortable in not shying away from influences, whatever they might be. I think that what connotes originality, often times, is simply a combination of diverse and plentiful influences. Because I did grow up with a lot of mainstream alternative rock (Weezer, Nirvana, etc.) that pull towards writing songs with a hook is something I've always felt. Just like how late-90s post-rock was very informative and important to me and my friends growing up — its aesthetic and very climactic way of interpreting and writing music.
Still, it's been nice to see musicians of my generation steadily become unafraid of admitting the influence and identity they found in pre-mainstream emo. I think my fascination with nostalgia, however, is more based upon the role it plays in social interaction. Usually, nostalgia gets a bad wrap when it refers to an artist who's regurgitating what's deemed trendy or whatever. I believe, though, if you have a strong memory associated with a film or piece of music (say, Neverending Story or something like it) and you find you share that same feeling or memory with another person, that's a powerful and fascinating connection.
UVM: You've played guitar in a number of bands in Oakland in a number of different sorts of roles. You've been a lead guitarist in bands where somebody else is the primary songwriter (Astronauts etc, In Watermelon Sugar, Madeline Kenney) and been in bands where much of the songwriting is done collectively (Bells Atlas). But Perhapsy is your own project entirely. How is that experience different from the others—both in terms of songwriting and the basic mechanics of running a band? Has your experience playing music in these other sorts of roles influenced your approach to Perhapsy? DB: That's a good question. I really value having Perhapsy as my own solo project. I've been in enough bands and musical situations that when the creative control isn't clearly understood, problems inevitably arise. I honestly think that anyone who does music should have a solo project. Not only does it allow you to get some of the ideas out of your head that wouldn't fly in another (more collaborative) band, but it makes you appreciate those more democratic musical activities a whole lot more. I'm also lucky to have a backing band for Perhapsy with musicians I know extremely well, and are very quick to pick things up. When it comes to rehearsing, for instance, some bands take a very long time to get things together. With Perhapsy, though, I have enough trust in the capability of my bandmates that I never wish to do more than one or two rehearsals before a show. I want the music to sound like its a little on-edge. It's not that I want it to come off as unpolished but I certainly try to allow room for happy accidents.
UVM: You are an excellent guitarist and have frequently performed some pretty spectacular guitar heroics in some of these other bands (we used to specifically leave space for you to solo in some In Watermelon Sugar songs). And while Me Tie Dough-ty Walker is definitely a very guitar heavy album, it is less reliant on solos, containing, instead, lots of shimmering, layered guitar textures, more subtle riffs, and interesting chord voicings. In terms of melody, the focus is much more on the vocals than the guitars. Is there a reason why you adopted this style, downplaying your soloing for these other elements? DB: Thanks. Well, a lot of the songs that appear on the album were written right around the time I first started writing with the intention of singing. It was an altogether terrifying but undeniably rewarding period in my life as I was trying to figure out if I could summon the courage to do so. I got very little encouragement (even discouragement) in my youth when it came to singing, so I always just focused on the guitar being my musical identity. I have nothing against guitar solos — in fact, a lot of the newest post-MTDW songs seem to be headed towards more guitar-featuring zones. But I think this album is a bit of an embrace and statement of intent when it comes to singing these songs. UVM: Speaking of your singing, there is a sweetness and earnestness to your vocals. There is something very midwestern about it. Again, relating to the nostalgic quality of the music, you grew up in Ohio but have lived in California for several years now, and, as I understand it, didn't start singing in public until after you moved out west. How have you developed your singing style? What are you trying to communicate with your vocals? DB: Well, it's funny, I always wanted to sing. I just thought if my friends told me I should stick to guitar, why would they steer me wrong? Ha ha. At any rate, I like the idea of earnestness and sweetness associated with the Midwest because I think, to a certain, extent, that's true. I think, as great creative minds like Kurt Vonnegut Jr. suggest, the Midwest is a great place to be from. (In my case, the emphasis is on from, however). I do remember a moment, late one night, in my dorm room at the University of Michigan (where I studied Jazz Guitar and a bit of English) when I caught myself singing along to the closing track on Elliott Smith's excellent album XO. The song is called "I Didn't Understand" and it's just a cappella, gorgeous, and fucking tragic. I tape recorded myself singing it and it didn't sound horrible to me. That was the first moment I thought maybe this could be a possibility. The one friend that actually did offer me encouragement, in terms of singing, once described my voice as sounding like "calm water." I thought that was really kind of her. But yeah, I still have a lot of hang-ups with singing. Before recording any vocals on any song, I have a ritual: I say "Fuck it" and hit record. As far as communicating goes, I can only hope to give a listener the same feeling I get when I hear Daniel Johnston, Elliott Smith, or Bob Dylan: honesty.
UVM: What are your plans for the album, in terms of release? Is there going to be a record release show? Will there be a tour? I know you've traded off between performing Perhapsy solo and with a full band; are your planning on continuing this flexible sort of arrangement? DB: Well, the album comes out on March 3rd and there's going to be a release show on March 6th at the Starline Ballroom in Oakland—you've been there, yeah? Anyhow, it's kind of a fancy joint now and is a good hangout space for the artsy music kids. I hope to have physical copies soon and if an ideal tour presents itself, I'd be interested. However, I'm getting older now and time away from my girlfriend Maddie is kind of a big deal. But I never thought I'd be in the kind of relationship that meant this much to me, so it's cool. Also, I do like the flexibility of playing solo when the opportunity seems to fit. But playing with the full band is freeing in its own way and usually a hell of a lot more fun.
UVM: As discussed above, this album took a while to make and you've written and recorded (as demos, ostensibly) a good batch of new songs since then. Has it been strange, leading up to the release of the album, to focus on these older songs, some of which may have since left your usual repertoire? Do you have plans to record another album in the next couple of years with the newer songs? DB: Yes, it's a bit odd releasing songs that are nearly four years old or so. Strangely enough, while I was working on the album, I had serious doubts about the quality of the songs. It's only in the last year, however, that I've realized that I actually like the songs a lot. Not that I can't do better, hopefully, but that the songs where I'm making myself kinda vulnerable actually are pretty satisfying. I think I'm always a bit scared about how my music comes off to my friends or random folks. But finally putting this thing out will be very healthy for whatever comes along next. And yes, I currently have about thirty or so new ones to choose from for the next album. I assure you, sir, it won't take as long to put together. Me Tie Dough-ty Walker is available for pre-order on Perhapsy's Bandcamp page and will be released on March 3rd. Derek will perform the album at the Starline Social Club in Oakland on March 6th. Chris Alarie is Spectacular Editor-in-Chief of Uncanny Valley Magazine.
by Chris Alarie
That football is the most popular sport in America and that the NFL is the most popular professional sports league are indisputable facts. This is a frequent source of consternation for me because, while I am certainly a football fan, I find it to be a vastly inferior sport to both baseball and basketball and believe that the NFL is one of the most onerous institutions in all of sports. Of course, the reason for football's dominance are myriad—from the primal appeal of the sport's violence to the relatively short season and once weekly games to the sport's particularly good fit for gambling and fantasy leagues—but there is one key factor that seems to have been overlooked: football's comparatively lesser engagement with advanced statistics.
Both baseball and basketball have been embroiled for years—or decades, in the case of baseball—in debates about the merits and value of advanced statistical methods of quantifying and evaluating the performance of players and teams. These debates often divide along generational lines, with younger writers, fans, and executives generally tending to lend greater credence to these advanced statistics than their older peers. And rather than offer a defense of one approach or the other,1 I'd just point out that these debates are essential parts of the fabric of both MLB and the NBA. Football, however, has mostly managed to avoid this debate and, really, the encroachment of advanced statistics almost entirely.
Indeed, when ESPN tried four years ago to introduce an advanced football statistic titled QBR, it was roundly ignored and routinely mocked. It exists now primarily as a means for other sports media organizations to criticize the "Worldwide Leader". But beyond reflecting somewhat poorly on Disney's otherwise impenetrable sports behemoth, the failure of QBR further serves to demonstrate football's immunity to having advanced stats as a part of the general discourse surrounding the sport. QBR's flawed analysis and laughable conclusions is a larger part of the NFL media and fan landscape than far better and far more useful advanced statistics such as Football Outsiders' DVOA. Often times the debate surrounding advanced stats is reduced to "numbers" vs. "the eye test"; in football, "the eye test" reigns supreme.
The question implicit in this is: why doesn't the majority of football fans care about advanced statistics? While I wouldn't claim to fully explain it, I can hazard a few guesses. Partly it is because football is so much less about individual achievements than baseball and basketball and much of advanced statistics focuses on the performance of individual players. But even still, there are advanced stats (such as the aforementioned DVOA) that focus on team performance and have not gained much traction among the mass of football fans. Perhaps it is a result, in part, from football's militaristic symbolism2 and borderline fascistic obsession with the strength, unity, and secrecy of individual franchises and the league as a whole. The NFL is well known for its paranoid credo, "Protect the Shield". And, as Tim Kawakami frequently observes, NFL fans, more than fans of any other sport, have an extreme loyalty to their franchises and owners over players or even coaches. And the paranoia3 and gamesmanship of NFL coaches is legendary. So perhaps advanced stats, which ostensibly peel back the curtain of of the sport and offer a deeper understanding of why teams and players succeed or fail, are, to NFL fans, the proprietary realm of the overlords running the teams and not the business of us plebes in the general sporting public. Another possible explanation is that the dominance of fantasy football—which traffics almost entirely in traditional stats as opposed to advanced stats—has kept all but the most dedicated fans uninterested in these more complicated statistical analyses. Whatever the reasons, it is clear that advanced stats do not have the same place in football discourse as they do in the realms of baseball and basketball. And that lack of advanced stats is part and parcel of the NFL's perhaps confusing dominance in this country.
This is perhaps an oversimplification, but I suspect that the disparity between the NFL and MLB/NBA reflects, in some ways, differences within the culture as a whole. Advanced statistics, and the sports that more directly incorporate them, seem more likely to appeal to intellectual, coastal elites. By contrast, the NFL, with its rejection of advanced stats in favor of more primal, simplified, and traditional notions of sports, seems more likely to appeal to the mass of red state denizens who feel like the coastal elites and the media ignore their concerns and interests. As I said, this is probably not entirely accurate—among other problems, plenty of us coastal intellectuals still watch football. But it seems, at very least, to be of symbolic importance that probably the biggest football fan among American presidents was Richard "Silent Majority" Nixon while Barack Obama is famously obsessed with basketball. And it is worth noting that the same analytically inclined media that dominates baseball and basketball has been unable to predict or even understand the continued successes of Donald Trump's presidential campaign.
In this somewhat convoluted metaphor, the baseball and basketball focused, pro-analytics crowd is the coastal, media-saturated segment of the population arguing in increasingly minute, esoteric detail about the various discrepancies between Hillary Clinton's complicated financial regulation plans and Bernie Sanders's promise to "break up the banks!"4 The more conservative, anti-advanced stats faction of the baseball and basketball world is analogous to the conservative intellectuals futilely decrying Donald Trump's conservative bona fides in the pages of The New Republic. In the meantime, the remaining hordes are actively defying both sides of these debates by watching football and pledging their intention to vote for Donald Trump. This is not to say that all football fans are Trump supporters or vice versa, but there is clearly a similar dynamic playing out in the realms of sports and politics. 1 Of course, like any good liberal, I almost neurotically try to split the difference between the two camps in my personal feelings toward the subject.↩ 2 George Carlin's famous routine about the difference between baseball and football remains as true as ever.↩ 3 There's that word again.↩ 4 Clearly, I fall into these camps.↩
Chris Alarie is Spectacular Editor-in-Chief of Uncanny Valley Magazine.
by Chris Alarie
What follows is my personal, highly subjective list of the best music of 2015, including songs, albums, and live performances, organized in ascending order from 20 to one. If you disagree, that is your prerogative. But I will personally judge you very, very harshly. Alright, with the preliminaries out of the way, on y va!1
20. Gary Pryor - "Grizzly Bears"
Normally (Uncanny Valley Magazine contributor) Gary isn't deserving of "best of" accolades, neither as a person nor as a musician. But with "Grizzly Bears", he has improbably managed to create an excellent synth-pop song that represents his varied, eccentric tastes. He put three different versions of this song up on his SoundCloud profile this year. All three are good but my personal favorite is this fuzzy take. In addition to the fucked up Sega Genesis style production, the song features such inspired lyrics as "Feel the power in your hand / You know it's time to be a man / Like a grizzly bear" which come across as a mutated version of some inspirational song from a 1980s sports movie. Honestly, Gary has no fucking right to make music this good. Oh well.
19. Kamasi Washington - The Epic
Saxophonist Washington's appropriately titled album2 evokes both the large-band hard bop of Oliver Nelson's Blues and the Abstract Truth and the sort of post-Coltrane, earthy music that artists like Pharoah Sanders and Archie Shepp released on Impulse! in the late 1960s.
Of course, that explicitly retro quality does undermine the importance of the album quite a bit. Everything that Emily Lordi told Eric Ducker about Leon Bridges is more or less equally applicable to Washington's album. It is good but non-essential music. Of course, this leads me to wonder why I would include The Epic on my list of the best music of 2015 but wouldn't even begin to consider Leon Bridges's pleasant-but-limp album, Coming Home. Is it because Washington is reviving a style of music that was even underappreciated in its own time while Bridges is just engaging in limp, displaced nostalgia that exists purely to provide an empty but affirming answer the meaningless question "Why don't they make music like they did in the old days?" Is it because my personal tastes align more with Washington's music than Bridges's? Or is it just that The Epic is simply a better album in every way than Coming Home? I'd suspect that the answer lies in a combination of the three.
18. BAUS - DEMO 2015
I saw these Oakland post-punk weirdos open for Violence Creeps a couple of years ago and they only seem to have gotten better since then. Their demo from this year is a straight shot of groovy, nervy, distorted goodness.
17. Ghostface Killah & BADBADNOTGOOD - Sour Soul
The only reason this album isn't higher on my list is because I included one of its singles on my list for 2014. But this excellent album that he made with the otherwise horribly dull, Canadian trio of jazz dweebs, BADBADNOTGOOD, continues the late career resurgence of 2013's Twelve Reasons to Die and 2014's 36 Seasons. 3 With all the other bummers associated with the Wu-Tang Clan this year, it's nice to know that we can count on Tony Starks to provide us his usual high-quality, idiosyncratic blend of drug dealing tales, oddball slang, and dark humor.
16. Death Grips - Jenny Death
Welcome back, Death Grips. Stay weird.
15. David Bowie - "Blackstar"
I think the Classical—whose album Diptych was on my best of 2014 list—summed it up best:
You might think David Bowie is ripping us off but actually we're just both ripping off the same Scott Walker era https://t.co/Gr1gkQ4rLN
14. Vince Staples - Summertime '06
My dislike of Drake and Kendrick Lamar and general indifference toward Future kept me mostly out of the hip hop zeitgeist this year. But Summertime '06 is a really good album and the music video for "Señorita" is awesome.
13. Courtney Barnett - Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit
Most of Courtney Barnett's songs blend together in my mind, but that's not necessarily a problem because they are generally very good. She reminds me a bit of Pavement in that she makes clever, unassuming songs that are memorable despite the fact that they are mostly unremarkable. Her music is much better than my description makes it seem.
12. Shannon and the Clams - Gone by the Dawn
Our friends, the Clams have long since established their signature blend of 60s pop melancholy, punk energy, and outsider music weirdness. Gone by the Dawn is their most fully realized album, featuring their most sophisticated songwriting, production, and vocal harmonies. "Corvette" and "Telling Myself" are particular standouts.
11. Joanna Newsom - Divers
I am unable to explain why I love Joanna Newsom's music without delving into my feelings and personal life. So let's just say this album is really good and leave it at that.
10. Violence Creeps - On My Turf
Crushing, funny, angry, weird—the best of Oakland in microcosm. All hail Violence Creeps!
9. Sufjan Stevens - Carrie & Lowell
I didn't actually listen to this album much but I want to include it because of the concert I saw him perform on Halloween. While his (admittedly amusing) cover of "Hotling Bling" got most of the attention, the entire concert was an intense, immersive, borderline religious5 experience. Sufjan and his band of multi-instrumentalists created a sound that veered from spare, fragile, achingly pretty acoustic numbers to loud, electronic, almost violently cacophonous sounds. And the lights and projections were fantastic.
As a side note, my friends and I met a friendly, middle aged, Chinese tourist on the train to Jersey City. My friend who had bought the tickets struck up a conversation with this man and offered him a spare ticket. So this man, who had never heard of Sufjan Stevens and had not begun his night with any intention of attending a concert, joined us. His look of awe and amazement at the end of the concert spoke to the power of Sufjan's music.
8. Julia Holter - Have You In My Wilderness
Her music reminds me of several artists from across the spectrum of catchy pop weirdos, particularly Karl Blau and Kate Bush. This album is full of strange earworms. Highly recommended.
7. Titus Andronicus - "Fatal Flaw" The Most Lamentable Tragedy, Titus Andronicus's rock opera about manic depression is, in its entirety, borderline unlistenable. But "Fatal Flaw" succeeds where much of the rest of the album fails, with its sugar rush, in-the-red6 pop punk giving way to an energy deflating crash.7
6. Built to Spill - Untethered Moon & There's Nothing Wrong with Love
Built to Spill's new album, Untethered Moon, is not markedly different from the rest of their oeuvre, both in terms of style8 and quality.9 Additionally, the music videos for "Living Zoo" and "Never Be the Same", when viewed in succession, make for two of the most genuinely funny music videos I've ever seen. Doug Martsch is a strange man.
Also, this year, Sub Pop reissued Built to Spill's classic 1994 album There's Nothing Wrong with Love. I don't know if there are any funny music videos to go with that reissue, but it is an excellent album.
5. Kurt Vile - "Pretty Pimpin"
I read a description of "Pretty Pimpin" as the best song that Neil Young never wrote. I find that description apt, as this song has the same hazy, addictively catchy stomp as some of Young's stonier 70s hits such as "Walk On" and "Are You Ready for the Country?". The rest of Vile's album is unmemorable but this is one of the best songs of the year.
4. Ben Goldberg - Orphic Machine
I wrote a review of this album for Elmore Magazine. This is an album of incredible depth and weight. It rewards repeated listening.
3. Dave Rawlings Machine - Nashville Obsolete Nashville Obsolete is an excellent album that seems both consistent with the music Rawlings and Gillian Welch have released under her name and something different in and of itself. Letting Rawlings's excellent guitar playing and warm, reedy voice take centers stage complements the relatively long, shaggy songs on this album. Like with Vile's song, there are strong shades of 70s Neil Young, particularly on "The Trip"—which also evokes Bob Dylan's long, addled mid 60s songs like "Desolation Row" and "Queen Jane Approximately" (which the Machine has covered in concert). "Pilgrim (You Can't Go Home)" is more like the songs on the Gillian Welch albums: a beautiful, humanist tune that fits snugly within the tradition of American folk and country music.
2. Unoperator - Something Something Something: Part 1
Returning to my list for the third time, Dak has crafted another unique, bizarre album. As is his wont, he released a bunch of music this year, including multiple versions of some songs. And, as is also his wont, he subsequently made much of that music unavailable. But this particular album was his best of the year and one of his best ever. It is the fullest realization of the dichotomies he so often explores with his music: catchy and noisy, funny and terrifying, fragile and heavy. If he makes it available again, I will update this entry.
1. Rihanna - "Bitch Better Have My Money"
When this song first came out back in March, I declared it the best song of the year. Eight and a half months later, this remains true.
Chris Alarie is Senior Editor-in-Chief of Uncanny Valley Magazine. 1 In the interest of blatant self promotion (hidden in a footnote as a nod toward modesty), I'd like to point out that Doug and I released three new albums this year. Check them out here.↩ 2 It is a triple album.↩ 3 In retrospect, I should have put this album on my 2014 list↩ 4 During a recent Uncanny Valley Magazine editorial discussion, Professor Editor-in-Chief Douglas Slayton actually said that he didn't think that David Bowie was cool. Despite the extremely evident stupidity of this statement, we ultimately decided against asking him to resign from his post. We support the freedom to express indefensibly dumb opinions here at UVM.↩ 5 Not necessarily (for me) due to the overt religiousness of Sufjan's lyrics while still acknowledging that the religiousness is probably inseparable from the meaning of the music.↩ 6 Or, to use a term from another song on the album, dimed out.↩ 7 I asked a friend of mine who is diagnosed as schizo affective to offer her analysis of the song with regards to the experience of a manic episode. She said that the song was far too slow to accurately reflect her experience of manic episodes but that the wooziness at the end did evoke some of the sensations of the crash that comes at the end of the episode.↩ 8 Melodic, knotty, guitar-driven.↩ 9 Really fucking good.↩
by Kristopher Nope Editor's note: Our favorite mysterious contributor Kristopher Nope interviewed Senior Editor-in-Chief Chris Alarie about music sub-genres and then created this map. Look & Learn!
Kristopher Nope was born on Catalina Island. Blue Ribbon Rowing Champion 2008, Crater Lake. SS Andrea Doria survivor. Accomplished essayist.
Having moved to Brooklyn last year, I've spent a good chunk of the last few months learning the ins and outs of this little city called New York City or sometimes just the Big City or mostly just New York. Among those ins—or maybe it's an out; I'm not really sure—is this surprising tidbit about sandwiches (which I will present in the form of a rhetorical question): did you know that in NYC1 sandwiches cost exactly $50.55? It's true. And the price is the same at every deli. The price is highly regulated and any vendor/restaurateur/deli-atician/sanwicherist who does not comply with that price is heavily fined and beaten.
Now you may be asking yourself,2 "Why would anybody pay that much for a sandwich? That seems like a ridiculously high price to pay for such a basic item." Well, first of all, fuck you. Who do you think you are? Some fancy bastard who's too good for our weird, expensive New York sandwiches? Go fuck yourself. Second: it actually isn't as expensive as it seems because New York sandwiches can regenerate themselves. All you have to do is take a piece of the sandwich and place it in the sunlight and it will grow into an entire new sandwich. Of course, there is a limit to how many new sandwiches can be generated from a single sandwich. Usually, the upper limit is somewhere around 14 new sandwiches—which makes for an incredible return on the initial $50.55 investment. Unfortunately, the lower limit is five sandwiches. While there is a fair bit of randomness involved in any New York sandwich transaction, certain types of sandwiches have particular tendencies. Hey, let's go through them together now.
Turkey sandwich: eight to 12 regenerations. Turkey sandwiches are generally one of the best values in all of New York the City.3
Salami sandwich: six to ten regenerations. While not as valuable as turkey, salami sandwiches are usually a good investment.
Ham sandwich: 5 to eight regenerations. Ham sandwiches are bad investments. Do not order a ham sandwich.
Tuna salad sandwich: seven to 14 regenerations. Tuna sandwiches have one of the widest range of possible results.
Chicken salad sandwich: five to 12 regenerations. As always, chicken salad sandwiches are just a lesser version of tuna salad sandwiches. Also, sometimes chicken salad sandwiches inexplicably regenerate as reuben sandwiches.
Reuben sandwich: ten to 14 regenerations. Oddly enough, reubens sometimes regenerate as ham sandwiches.
Po boy: seven to ten regenerations. I don't know what this is. I guess it's some kind of sandwich.
Gyro: sorry, gyros aren't sandwiches. They don't have anything to do with this.
Burrito: also not a sandwich. Also, I'm pretty sure that there are no burritos anywhere in the five boroughs.4
BLT: I don't know. I've never actually ordered a BLT.
Now you might be wondering how all of this came about. Unfortunately, it is far too complicated for me to explain or even comprehend. But the initial technology allowing for sandwich regeneration was originally developed by extra terrestrials. A cabal of shadowy figures operating in secret deep within the federal government learned these techniques and, in turn, taught them to sandwich industrialists throughout the Big Cheesy Apple Potato.5 In order to preserve the illusion of a free market economy, these alien-technology-informed sandwiches are set at the carefully determined price of $50.55. And now you know the whole story—like a real goddamn New Yorker! Fuck you.
Chris Alarie is Senior Editor-in-Chief of Uncanny Valley Magazine.
1 NYC is another name for New York City. It's an acronym but nobody knows what it stands for. It dates back to the 17th century, when all New Yorkers spoke an ancient, untranslatable dead language known as Dutch.↩ 2 Yeah, it's another rhetorical question. Fuck you if that's a problem, hey.↩ 3 I'm pretty sure this is another name for New York City. But there is at least a small chance that I came up with this one myself when I hit my head on the toilet really hard the other day.↩ 4 This is yet another nickname for New York City. It is an anglicization of the Spanish term "cinco burros", which means "five donkeys". This is because New York City was originally founded in the 14th century by five super-intelligent donkeys who had sailed over from Spain.↩ 5 That's right, another fucking nickname!↩
Alexis Faulkner is Unicorn Editor-in-Chief ofUncanny Valley Magazine. Chris Alarie is Senior Editor-in-Chief of Uncanny Valley Magazine. Doug Slayton is Professor Editor-in-Chief of Uncanny Valley Magazine.
Exterior
Park. The SALESMAN, carrying the camera, approaches JEFF—30ish,
handsome, and smiling—as he sits by a fountain, listening to music
on earbuds
SALESMAN
[from
behind the camera]
Excuse
me, sir.
The
salesman waves to Jeff (his hand appears from behind the camera) to
get his attention. Jeff looks up and takes out his earbuds.
JEFF
Pardon?
SALESMAN
What
would you do for a Klondike bar?
JEFF
I
don't know.
SALESMAN
Would
you kill yourself for a Klondike
bar?
JEFF
[chuckles]
Yeah,
sure.
SALESMAN
Great!
The
salesman hands Jeff a Klondike bar.
JEFF
Thanks.
Cut
to:
Jeff
is just finishing the Klondike bar.
SALESMAN
It
looked like you enjoyed that.
JEFF
Yeah,
it was great. Thanks!
SALESMAN
Ok,
since we held up our end of the
bargain—
The
salesman tries to hand a gun to Jeff. Jeff puts his hands up and
refuses to take the gun.
JEFF
Whoa!
Wait, what?
SALESMAN
You
said you'd kill yourself for a
Klondike
bar. So... pay up!
The
salesman attempts to force the gun into Jeff's hands again. Jeff
again pushes it away.
JEFF
What!?
I thought you were kidding!
SALESMAN
I
wasn't.
JEFF
Well
I don't know what to tell you—
SALESMAN
I
had a feeling you would try to back
out.
So I took the liberty to send a man
to
your house—341 Maple Drive, right?
JEFF
Y-yeah?
SALESMAN
That's
what I thought. So, he is sitting
in
a van outside your house right now,
watching
as your wife, Linda, plays with
your
daughter, Wendy. All I have to do is
give
him the word and he'll—well, you don't
want
to know what he's gonna do.
JEFF
What
the fuck!?
SALESMAN
In
fact, here's a photo he just texted me.
The
salesman shows his phone to Jeff. Jeff, white as a sheet, covers his
mouth.
JEFF
Oh
my god.
SALESMAN
Yeah.
I'm not fucking around here. So...
The
salesman attempts to hand the gun to Jeff a third time. His hands
shaking with fear, Jeff finally takes the gun.
SALESMAN
That's
right.
JEFF
[crying]
I
can't believe this!
SALESMAN
In
your mouth, motherfucker.
Jeff,
still crying, puts the gun in his mouth, and looks toward the
salesman/camera in desperation. The salesman cackles deviously.
JEFF
[still
crying, words muffled
by the gun in his mouth]
I
didn't even want the bar!
SALESMAN
But
you ate it, so...
Pull
the trigger, you little bitch.
Screen
freezes on Jeff with the gun in his mouth. The Klondike bar logo
appears onscreen and the salesman joins in with a VOICE as it sings
the famous jingle.
VOICE
& SALESMAN
[in
unison]
What
would you do-o-o—
for
a Klondike bar?
end
Chris Alarie is Senior Editor-in-Chief of Uncanny Valley Magazine.
Over the past several months, the
American public and, perhaps more importantly, media have been deeply
fascinated by the 2016 presidential election, despite the fact that
we are a year away from election day and a few months out from even
the earliest nominating contests. Some of that is a result of the
necessities of the 24 hour news cycle, the horse-race-style1
coverage of elections that the media favors,2
and the particularlyoddcharacters
who populate the nominating contests. But another source of interest
is the way that the battles for each party's nomination have put a
spotlight on intra-party issues, particularly with regards to
America's income and wealthy disparities.3
Both the Republican
and Democratic
parties are in the midst of battles as to how each party should best
address the questions surrounding inequality. These intra-party
debates illustrate one of the more pressing but under-discussed
political problems in America: the way our two-party system is
hurting the democratic process and preventing the government from
properly addressing the economic concerns of the general public (in
this case, the increasing divide between the super-wealthy and the
rest of the country—a function of worsening income and wealth
inequality as well as a lessening of economic mobility).
America is, for all intents and
purposes, the only major democracy that has only two effective
political parties. And the two parties are entrenched in such a
manner that their respective areas of expected electoral control are,
if not predestined, then highly predictable, at least. The Democrats
have a distinct
advantage in the electoral college, giving them
an easier path to control over the electoral branch of the federal
government. The Republicans have a stranglehold over much of the
governments at
the state level which, in turn, gives them a
similarly overwhelming control of the House of Representatives. The
only segment of the federal government that is currently a remotely
open contest between the two parties is the Senate, depending on
which seats are contested in each particular election. The manner in
which these two parties are entrenched is a key facet of the
worsening problems of inequality.
In a recently
published Vox
article,
Lee Drutman explains how America seems to be stuck in a reinforcement
feedback loop of income and wealth inequality that is both a product
of and engine behind Republican control of the government. It is a
well-supported, interesting article and is well worth reading in
full, but for my purposes, can be summarized as explaining that the
last few decades of largely Republican controlled economic policies
have created an extreme level of income inequality that has created a
less informed and less politically engaged electorate, which in turn
favors Republican electoral goals. Essentially, the Republicans have
used their control over the federal government to make the federal
government ineffective in addressing inequality, which in turn allows
them to campaign against the federal government as a solution for
inequality in front of an electorate that, thanks to the
aforementioned inequality, is less prepared to evaluate these
problems and less likely to engage with the political process, both
of which favor the perpetuation of this strategy on the part of the
Republicans. While the reasons for this feedback loop are manifold
and complex, it is, in part, a function of the limitations of our
two-party system.
The
Democratic and Republican parties have effective monopolies over,
respectively, the liberal and conservative factions of the
government, with the middle ground becoming more
and more empty.
And with these monopolies comes an increased focus on ideological
consistency, particularly in the GOP, and a greater need to establish
differences between the parties on most issues. The problem is that
each party's ideology is unlikely to represent the beliefs of most
voters on every single issue. Anything outside of either party's
orthodoxy, even an idea that finds bipartisan support among the
general electorate, necessarily becomes either a partisan cause—if
it fits within one party's ideology—or an unsupported cause—if it
doesn't fit within either party's ideology. Income and wealth
inequality are problems that follow this first model in that they are
a primary concern of a majority of Americans but are only
identifiable as problems within the ideology of the Democratic party,
essentially rendering a cause that should have broad support as a
partisan cause that is subject to all of the problems and
ineffectiveness of our polarized system of government.
For
statistical evidence that a sizable portion of the populace is
concerned about inequality, one could look at polls from the New
York Times/CBS
and Gallup.
But for more anecdotal evidence that the issue is important to voters
from both parties, one need look no further than the very different,
insurgent populist campaigns of Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump.
Indeed, inequality is the primary issue on which Sanders has centered
his campaign
and a significant source of his unexpected success and momentum—to
the point that likely eventual nominee Hillary Clinton has had to
(perhaps unconvincingly) focus
on the issue,
as well. On the other hand, Trump's success is a bit harder to tie to
any one issue. But it is still worth noting that Trump has addressed
the issue of inequality more directly than any other Republican
candidate, stating that he would like to raise taxes on hedge fund
managers4
and has no intention of reducing medicaid or social security—which
amounts to as much of defection from GOP orthodoxy on the subject of
inequality as could be imagined by a leading presidential candidate.
The strangeness of Trump's behavior and his attendant popularity has
led to a veritable cottage industry of articles in which a journalist
speaks to Trump supporters in order to discover the reasons behind
their support. While the supporters' responses run the gamut from
relating to his racist, nationalistic rhetoric on immigration to his
supposedly self-financed campaign's freedom from the influence of
special interests to his general blustery demeanor, many Trump
supporters point to his comparatively stronger focus on the issue of
inequality relative to other Republicans. Indeed, the enthusiasm for
Sanders and, to a lesser extent, Trump illustrates the extent to
which inequality is an issue of importance to the public across the
political spectrum. However, the fact that neither candidate seems
likely to eventually win the presidency or even capture his party's
nomination demonstrates how the two-party system prevents the
government from truly addressing the problem of inequality.
Once
the primaries are finished, the general election will pit
establishment candidates against each other, with Hillary Clinton
almost certainly facing off against either Jeb Bush or, more likely,
Marco Rubio. While they have made some brief overtures toward the
plight of the middle class, Rubio and Bush are extremely unlikely to
be concerned with income and wealth inequality than Trump.5
And while Clinton is much more likely to campaign against inequality
than her Republican opponents, her history and connections to wealthy
Wall Street donors renders her a much less convincing crusader
against inequality than Sanders. In a system that had more than two
parties, Trump and Sanders6
would be able to participate as candidates outside of the Democratic
and Republican parties and perhaps stand a chance to campaign to a
general electorate with their comparatively great focuses on
inequality.7
But in a two-party system, we will instead be presented with a choice
between a Republican candidate who has no interest in the issue and a
Democratic candidate who does not have as much interest as a large
portion of the progressive segment of the electorate and perhaps even
less than some voters who generally lean more conservative.
Inequality becomes a comparatively weakened partisan issue instead of
the generally popular cause that polls indicate it to be.
Ultimately,
a political system that features more than two viable parties would
be more likely to represent the vast and varied concerns of the
public as a whole. And perhaps an issue that is concerning to a
majority of Americans across the political spectrum such as income
inequality would be more likely to be addressed by the government.
But the entrenched power of the two parties—fueled in part by the
campaign contributions of the wealthy elites who benefit from
inequality—makes this an impossibility.8
While there are a number of potential means by which outside parties
could gain traction, such as ranked choice voting or proportional
representation, the likelihood of any being implemented is extremely
low. Instead, we are stuck with a two-party system that encourages
reinforcing feedback loops and ignores broadly supported issues like
inequality. Chris Alarie is Senior Editor-in-Chief of Uncanny Valley Magazine.
1 Beware the Vast Equine Conspiracy.↩ 2 And that the public devours.↩ 3 This focus on the economy is a reflection of how many, perhaps even most, political issues in this country are folded into domestic economic debates.↩ 4 Of course, the tax plan that he ultimately released does not follow through on that promise, illustrating just how significant the influence of orthodox conservative economic policy is.↩ 5 Or any Democrat.↩ 6 It is worth noting that lifelong political independent Sanders only recently joined the Democratic party in order to try to secure its presidential nomination.↩ 7 I should note that Hillary Clinton, like nearly any progressive, is likely more concerned about inequality than Donald Trump.↩ 8 Indeed, campaign finance reform is the elephant in the room on this issue, as it is in regards to much of American politics.↩
Among the tags for Tidy Universe on the Dirty Snacks Ensemble's Bandcamp page is "chamber jazz". This is an apt description. Clifford—who plays vibraphone and keyboards in addition to his compositional and occasional vocal duites—and his ensemble certainly have jazz chops and the album features some impressive improvisational passages, particularly saxophonist Aram Shelton's work on the album. But Clifford's background is in composition and all of these songs1 lean heavily on that foundation. To return to the cosmological metaphor, if the Ensemble's improvisations represent the chaos and possibilities of the universe as we observe it, Clifford's compositions are the laws of physics that dictate the shape and contour of those possibilities.2
