"Brick by Boring Brick"
"Brick by Boring Brick"
A lot of little steps forward—like the public statement made by Paramore's Hayley Williams today—equal progress. It may feel like insignificant progress, but, corny as it sounds...little steps add up.
The namesake concepts of CeeGees can certainly be better-grasped by considering national and international news. In our last CeeGee, for instance, the current events filling in our little music/news s#!t sandwich was the public’s perception of Joe Biden’s age. Before that we discussed surprise bipartisanship in D.C.
But it’s hard to wrap my head around ever doing something productive about our dearth of Common Ground, our disrespect of the Common Good, and the debilitating growth of Corporate and Capitalistic Greed on a national level, let alone on an international level.
It’s easier to talk about big news items like that, though. But change needs to start at the local level. And I’m sure my locality, Nashville, is experiencing similar challenges to your locality. So I need to drill down into something local. Hell, I have a subscription to the Tennessean but barely ever read it if I’m being honest.
Maybe that’s ‘cuz local goings-on hit too close to home, literally and figuratively. It’d be that much more in my face that I’m musing over a topic I might actually be able to do something about. Other than just griping.
I doubt I’ll be able to set much action into motion today, but I will at least commit to talking about something local (or regional) inspired by a Tennessean story for this post. But first we gotta lay down the first piece of bread.
THE BOTTOM SLICE: The Curse of Completism
(Disclaimer A: I’ve been calling the first music segment the “top piece” of the shit sandwich, but you don’t start making a sandwich with the top piece. That’s just simple Newtonian physics. Also, it’s snappier to say “slice” rather than “piece” of bread. We’re all about making improvements, and not being dumb, here at CeeGees…)
(Disclaimer B: As faithful readers know by now, “I” say that “I” experienced all this ‘80s and ‘90s and sometimes ‘70s music first-hand. I WISH! It was really my long-lost cousin “Moneybags” Melvin who introduced me to this stuff and gave me his collection of CDs and tapes. And “I” am saying “I” to make it sound like it was me who was cool enough (and old enough) to have bought these albums—pretty much to get back at Melvin for only leaving me his music collection and not any of his other vast riches upon his disappearance and subsequent classification as dead by absentia.)
(Disclaimer C: So from now on I’m not even going to mention this me/Melvin distinction anymore, Melvin doesn’t deserve the satisfaction. [And I’m just going to come out and say what everybody else is thinking in my extended family—the guy probably totally faked his death! Most of his dough is still squirreled away in the Seychelles!] So from now on, just remember: I’m super-young, and telling these stories in the first-person to take credit for discovering these awesome artifacts away from my selfish probably-not-dead rich cousin…….)
Like I said…The Curse of Completism
“I’m a completist” is my excuse for owning the cassette that’s third-down from the top-left of my top tape case on my cassette tower, pictured above.
Of course, for a band like Kiss, who for better or worse (I know, I know, “Worse!” you’re saying) is my favorite band, I own every proper album release in CD and cassette format and many on vinyl. But in my heyday, if I liked the debut album, by, say, Dangerous Toys, I’m gonna get their sophomore album on the day it’s released, no questions asked. (Here’s their dopey MTV hit about a dude catching the singer in bed with his girlfriend.) If the second album sucked, however, and the third album is about to come out? Well…
I’m gonna get their third album on the day it’s released, no questions asked. It’s a sickness. Possibly literally. I’m sure Dangerous Toys have a sixth album, and probably a seventh and beyond. But I can tell you they definitely have a fourth and fifth album. Because I bought them. Didn’t listen to ‘em, but, I bought ‘em. Because…well, I just had to.
(EDITOR’S NOTE: Dangerous Toys were pretty great musically, actually. Lyrically, no. A little tune on their second record called “On Top” may someday be randomly AI-selected for a Top Slice review because the chorus pops up in my consciousness all the damn time, without warning. And considering the lyrics, my consciousness oughta be ashamed of itself.
But below please find the band’s second single from their debut record, a long-forgotten number that was nonetheless huge on MTV. And it was my favorite song to play in my high school band, ‘cuz it was a little [a little] more high-brow, musically and even lyrically…)
From Completism to “OCDean”-ism
My apologies if it seems like I’m making light of obsessive compulsive disorder. I forget who gave me the nickname “OCDean,” or why they did. But I have had some bouts with panic disorder, which I’ve learned is related to OCD.
In the past, I thought OCD and panic seemed like odd bedfellows. What does losing one’s ever-loving shit during a panic attack—cloudy vision, heart palpitations, extremities going numb, loss of simple reason—have in common with the compulsion to clean, check, count, arrange, etc.?
But it makes total sense to me now. Your body revolts when your subconscious mind determines you’ve lost control of your destiny, whether long-term or short-term. And I’ll bet many folks with OCD initially experience something akin to a panic attack. And in lieu of being able to control the things in life that are inherently out of one’s control, they do something they can control, which is count the cracks on the sidewalk, or wash their hands every few minutes. But…this is all speculation on my part. [EDITOR’S NOTE: The author is not a doctor and his precarious meanderings are his own.]
Anyway, that cassette that’s third-down from the top-left of my top tape case on my cassette tower? I’ll tell you the five things I know about it:
It was released by a band called Rage of Angels.
The album is entitled Rage of Angels.
The background color on the spine of the cassette is black.
The text on the spine is red.
I never once listened to Rage of Angels, or Rage of Angels, but am going to on Spotify right now. Wanna join me?
Now see, if Rage of Angels hadn’t randomly been placed in that third slot in my top tape case, we wouldn’t have been driven by some unseen force to find out they were from Stamford, Connecticut (eat your hearts out, Amie and Jay), they broke up before this album was even released, and two members went on to play in Steelheart. Who—get this—is the next band in line in the cassette column we’re slated to discuss next week! And if I decide to take a (literal) left turn the week after that—which I swear I was considering doing already—the “Bottom Slice” featured artist would be Christian pop-metal band Stryper! AND this band is called Rage of Angels because they were a Christian metal band formed to inherit Stryper’s heavenly throne!!!
SPOOKY!!
THE FILLING: Good on Paramore. Standing up for what’s right is not easy in Tennessee.
Did you hear about the Tennessee House of Representatives blocking a resolution honoring Nashvillian Allison Russell’s recent Grammy while passing a resolution (introduced at the same time) honoring Nashvillian band Paramore’s recent Grammys?
Probably not if you’re not based in Nashville, but it is a top story on the Tennessean’s website at the time of this publication. I only watched the first three minutes of the below Roland Martin Unfiltered segment and don’t know Martin’s perspective on current events very well, but he gives us a great overview of what went down:
That’s the story that jumped out at me most of the top entries on the Tennessean home page. I know I’m taking the easy route by picking something music-related as well as local, but it’s worth internalizing what a statehouse body with a supermajority can get away with.
I’m just going to reprint Hayley Williams’ statement she sent in to the paper below. It bashes House Republicans for rejecting the Black girl who’s a constant voice for justice in the maddeningly challenging environment that is Tennessee, while affirming the white girl—who, by the way, is also a “vocal voice for justice” as described by State Rep. Justin Jones, D-Nashville, who brought the two resolutions. But Williams isn’t as vocal, and she’s not Black or queer, and she hasn’t publicly fought the GOP’s policies like Russell has.
But like Mr. Martin alludes to above…for frig’s sake, Republicans. It’s the easiest thing you could possibly do, is to just say, “OK, sure, congrats on your Grammys, thanks for putting Tennessee in a positive light on the international stage” or whatever. Or, if they were just tight-asses who didn’t want such frivolous ceremony on the House floor, then fine: vote down both resolutions.
But, of course, they only voted down the ornery Black girl. Just like they voted Rep. Jones and Rep. Justin Pearson out of the House last year (they’re Black) but didn’t vote Rep. Gloria Johnson out (she’s white) when the trio participated (together) in protesting the House’s inaction on gun violence.
Non-subscribers can read certain articles from the Tennessean, so here’s this one in case it’s a freebie. And if it’s not, here’s Williams’ statement (eat your heart out, Dave). Good on her.
This week, Rep. Justin Jones put forth resolutions to honor my band, Paramore, and another local-to-Nashville artist, Allison Russell, on our recent Grammy wins (as far as I can tell these resolutions have no legal weight to them. They're like a big high-five or when the whole restaurant joins in to sing you "Happy Birthday").
House Republicans only let the measure that acknowledged Paramore's win pass. They blocked Allison's.
For those that don't know, Allison Russell is an incredibly talented musician and songwriter. Her music spans genres with strong ties to the Folk/Americana scenes. You might have seen her on the Grammy stage performing with the great Joni Mitchell.
Oh, she is also Black. She's a brilliant Black woman.
The blatant racism of our state leadership is embarrassing and cruel. Myself, as well as Paramore, will continue to encourage young people to show up to vote with equality in mind.
I'd like to say thank you to Brother Jones for your steadfast commitment to your community.
And thank you to Allison Russell for using your voice and artistry to band people together, not tear them apart. CONGRATS on your incredible Grammy night.
On behalf of Paramore, Happy Black History Month.
THE TOP SLICE: Pick a number, any number…
OK THIS TIME I’ll make this quick(er). (EDITOR’S NOTE: Ugh.) I have a Spotify playlist called “Recollection Records: Music That’s Entered My Head Out of Nowhere.” Lots of hair metal, lots of classic rock, lots of ‘70s, ‘80s, and some ‘90s pop. And lots of other stuff too, cuz there are now 969 songs on this playlist.
So I’m gonna have Perplexity.ai (Lord help us) pick a random number from 1 to 969, and I’ll talk about what I first think of when it comes to the song chosen. Here we go.
Perplexity picks… 532.
Oh geez. I mean, dude: if you like super-heavy music that is still melodic, which is some of my favorite stuff, Prong is your band. Any heavier and you’ve got Sepultura. Any lighter and you’ve got…I dunno, Metallica?
And Metallica scared the bejeepers out of me when I was first getting into hard rock. Now they seem so tame. But Prong never got tame. And except for their first couple albums, which were more like punk-metal and therefore not particularly tuneful (but I own them, because, OCDean), they always had amazing melodies and musical sensibilities in general.
Personal Prong Experiences:
My first band’s makeshift manager said she could sneak me in to Jake’s in Bloomington for the Prong concert. Not sure how long I would’ve lasted looking as 16 as I did, but she couldn’t get me in anyways. BUT, she was very nice to rip a big Prong promo poster off the wall and give it to me. I need to frame it at some point.
I believe they were touring behind the Cleansing album, which the above tune was on, when they came to X-Fest in Indianapolis and ripped the place apart (figuratively). They never got airplay on X103 so I don’t think anybody else knew who Prong was. But the field in front of the stage was a mess nonetheless. Everybody mashed together and jumping up and down in unison (plus one dude actually singing along when he could catch his breath from the b.o.).
My last gasp as a Californian. I was preparing to move to Nashville from the hippie surfer town of Ventura (which was decimated by fire damage a couple years ago). And randomly, a rare Prong show popped up in a tiny venue I’d never heard of on the other side of town. I wouldn’t be surprised if the promoter rented the place out and it was a one-off. I remember the ceilings were crazy-low. And the turnout did not necessitate any mashed-together bodies. But they still ripped the place apart (figuratively).
Happy Friday night, music (and current events) fans!
Yours,
~Dean
P.S. In the spirit of the modern-day media industry, I have not proofed the above, ‘cuz I just wanted to get it out there so it could get some traction and I could move on to the next thing. Maybe I’ll get to reviewing it if I get any spare time. “Perfection is the enemy of the good,” after all. 🤢
P.P.S. This P.P.S. will self-destruct in exactly 10 seconds. Have a nice weekend!