Aug
24
2008
BY THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / August 24, 2008
Friday night a friend and I ended up getting free tickets to a shindig hosted by Nicole Richie and Joel Madden. Yes, we decided to go. Don’t look at me. To be honest, I had no fucking clue as to who Joel Madden was; I thought he was the guy who designed handbags. Needless to say, about 20 minutes into the night I find out that he’s the host DJ and a member of the band Good Charlotte. Though I didn’t know any of the band’s songs, I figured that this guy, being in the music scene for a while, at least had some musical sense?
Well it turned out that the setlist for the night was the same typical shit you’d hear in any Ed Hardy sportin’ club. Not the worst I’ve ever heard, not the best, but just your typical safe, setlist. A little bit of G-Funk, a little bit of dance club hip-hop, and of course that annoying “Music is my boyfriend / music is my girlfriend” song. That’s when I had to ask myself, “Seriously, what ever happened to the art of DJing?” The days of Grandmaster Flash, Mix Master Mike, Cut Chemist, DJ Q-Bert, DJ Premier, and DJ Shadow are long gone. I mean, even that kid from the movie Juice would probably blow most of the current “DJs” out of the water.
The fact remains that the art of DJing has fallen somewhere between a plastic drinking bird toy hitting random keys on a keyboard and the shuffle feature on your iPod. Unfortunately, this trend will only expand in the indefinite future. Thanks to hard drive technology, broadband filesharing, and lossy compression, any bored asshole out there with a laptop, some freeware software, and an hour of spare time can claim to be a DJ. Shit, even me.
-The Boston Bachelor
Feb
01
2008
By THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / February 1, 2008
I’m going to take your head, you see. And I’m going to stick it in a fucking vacuum cleaner. A Dirt Devil full of heavenly angels. You dig?
Not since Cecil got his new piece has feedback sounded so beautiful. And it doesn’t hurt that these Scottish blokes were churning out classic pop gems that would make Phil Spector proud. Or stick a gun in their face.
Just Like Honey. The Living End. The Hardest Walk. In a Hole. Taste of Cindy. Some Candy Talking. Never Understand. My Little Underground. You Trip Me Up. The classics never end, it goes on and on and on and on…
It’s beautiful. Ear-splittingly abrasive, but beautiful. Aural sex never hurt so fuckin’ good.
-The Boston Bachelor
Amazon.com Review (Forget the “remaster”–this original import release is the best version to get)
Wikipedia
Jan
19
2008
By THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / January 19, 2008
Have some extra storage space on your mp3 player? Here’s 1010 songs for your ipod, courtesy of Q Magazine.
-The Boston Bachelor
Nov
25
2007
By THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / November 25, 2007
Though I never was a huge fan of his music in general, this is hands-down the best live music performance from any major awards show.
Runner up: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PiQksVNK1_Q
-The Boston Bachelor
Oct
25
2007
By THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / October 25, 2007
The one… the only… the indispensable… Marvin.
-The Boston Bachelor
Oct
08
2007
Introducing a new section on this site: The Great Albums. It’s about the music that changes your life and the lives of countless others around the world. It’s those aurgasmic delights that fulfill you in a way nothing else can. If you’re not a music lover, you’re simply not human. Enjoy.
-The Boston Bachelor
By THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / October 8, 2007
Forget Sgt. Pepper’s or Revolver, The White Album is The Beatles at their stubborn and absolute best.
It’s a resounding “fuck you” to the rest of the music world, like the breakaway slam that seals the end of a once-close basketball game. It’s The Beatles saying that not only are they going to do whatever the hell they want, they’re going to best you and your grandmother while they’re at it.
From country to folk to rock to avant-garde to acoustic guitar solo pieces, The White Album is one sprawling, beautiful mess. It’s ingenious and insane (just don’t read too much into the songs–especially “Helter Skelter”). As a musician, it makes you want to trade your soul for just a leftover nugget of their genius. I’ll wager my lucky dime that Brian Wilson ran to the pharmacy as soon as he heard the chorus of “Back in the U.S.S.R.” Talk about trouncing a surf-pop master at his own game.
The scariest thing is, The White Album plays like a random selection from 4 solo Fab Four albums—yet it still sounds so fucking good.
Well, except for those two tracks where Yoko makes a brief appearance. Sorry, John.
-The Boston Bachelor
Wikipedia
Amazon.com Review
