i miss the comfort in being sad

Kurt Cobain and I were both born just outside of Seattle in January of early 1967. I worked on an entry early this morning that began with, “I want to tell you to just say no to the Cobain hagiography (Washington Post, Rolling Stone, Associated Press, Seattle Times, Launch Yahoo, New Musical Express).”

I wrote more, but I couldn’t figure out how to end it, so instead, I’m going to just tell you to go read this article on the reunion and current tour of the Pixies.

Okay, I’ll also include this part of what I was writing earlier: “In his WaPo piece, David Segal writes, ‘Kurt Cobain would detest all the re-eulogizing prompted by the 10th anniversary of his suicide.’ No he wouldn’t. Here, Segal participates in one of the shadiest elements of tending to the rock star ethos, something no respectable music journalist should do, in my opinion. Cobain was a rock star, and part of being a rock star is to express disdain for being a rock star. It’s cool not to want to be seen as cool. It should be the music journalist’s job to call rock stars out on this duplicity. Cobain was as involved in the fashioning of his own indie image as anyone. In Heavier than Heaven, Charles Cross explains that although Cobain told interviewers that the first concert he attended was Black Flag, he had actually seen Sammy Hagar previously.”

In his suicide note, Cobain quoted Neil Young, “It’s better to burn out than to fade away.” I wonder if his daughter would agree. I also wonder if Cobain knew this song by Young:

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don’t try to confuse us with the facts

Via The New York Times: Two economists have released the draft of a study concluding that illegal music “[d]ownloads have an effect on sales which is statistically indistinguishable from zero, despite rather precise estimates.” Felix Oberholzer-Gee of the Harvard Business School and Koleman S. Strumpf of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill have conducted what the Times is calling “the first study that makes a rigorous economic comparison of directly observed activity on file-sharing networks and music buying.”

[T]hey analyzed the direct data of music downloaders over a 17-week period in the fall of 2002, and compared that activity with actual music purchases during that time. Using complex mathematical formulas, they determined that spikes in downloading had almost no discernible effect on sales. Even under their worst-case example, “it would take 5,000 downloads to reduce the sales of an album by one copy,” they wrote. “After annualizing, this would imply a yearly sales loss of two million albums, which is virtually rounding error” given that 803 million records were sold in 2002. Sales dropped by 139 million albums from 2000 to 2002.

So why have sales been dropping? Here’s my take, and keep in mind it’s only a theory unsupported by any rigorous analysis: because most music being produced by the music
industry
sucks. And the level of suckitude (or suckage, if you’re a speaker of French) appears to be following an upward trajectory.

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i assassin down the avenue

One year after the war in Iraq began, the monetary cost has mounted to more than one hundred billion dollars. We’ve gone from a federal budget surplus to a massive debt. Thousands have died. Civil rights in this country have taken a serious hit.

Are you better off than you were four years ago?

From the Protest Records site, here are some free and legal mp3s for your listening pleasure:

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i am trying to break your heart

I don’t mean to neglect you, dear reader, it’s just that I’m having one of those periods of blogging crisis. You know, “What’s it all about?” and “What’s a blog for?” That kind of thing. *sigh* I’m being a selfish reader, not leaving comments, not sending trackback pings to entries on others’ blogs.

Well, here are a few links for ya:

  • I highly recommend H. J. Jackson’s Marginalia: Readers Writing in Books (New Haven: Yale UP, 2001).
  • I’m also finding the essays in Books and their Readers in Eighteenth-Century England: New Essays (London: Leicester UP, 2001) to be quite engaging.
  • This has to be the most bitter song I’ve ever heard (and yes, the radio edit is just about incomprehensible). Eamon is one angry guy. If you haven’t heard it, the most striking thing about the song is that if you didn’t listen to the lyrics, you would assume it’s a love song or a song about losing someone special.
  • I’m off to ASECS 2004, next week and any suggestions for things to do or see in Boston when I’m not at the conference are welcome.
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orgasmic retribution fiber

I’ve been fighting a fever all day. Not much sleep last night and many weird dreams. The last words I remember from my last dream: “orgasmic retribution fiber.” I have no idea what it means, either.

And while we’re on the subject of surreal wordplay, I am saddened to learn that Dave Blood, bassist for the Dead Milkmen, has commited suicide. I can’t say I was ever a big fan, but the Dead Milkmen were the first band I ever interviewed back when I was a fledgling music journalist in Atlanta. Although I did a terrible job, and although they had a reputation for skewering morons, they were very kind to me, and I managed to write up an article that didn’t suck too badly.

Perhaps this isn’t a song Blood liked, but it’s one I think of whenever I hear of another suicide.

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