Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

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#MusicMonday: “Gravel” – Ani DiFranco

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Ani DiFranco’s “Gravel” burst from my iPod headphones as I left the house this morning and transported me back to another place and time in my life.

It was 1997, and I was a new Ani DiFranco fan. After borrowing her tapes from my friends Andrea and Nava (yes: TAPES) I snapped up two of her remarkable trio of perfect LPs, Out of Range and Dilate, and waited with bated breath for April 22nd. That was when her new, live, double-CD Living in Clip would be released.

Living in Clip contained a bevy of older songs that were new to me, but one that no one had ever heard before outside of concerts: “Gravel.” It was the third track.


(This live performance is from slightly after the LiC version, but still pretty close in feel.)

While I loved the entire double-CD, it was “Gravel” that I played again and again in wonder. This was long before YouTube and prior to Ani’s major media breakthrough with Little Plastic Castle, so I had never seen a video of her playing guitar. I was already fascinated by the sound of her songs like “Out of Range” and “Shameless.”

How did she make those sounds? I had plenty of friends who played guitar, but none of them made the sounds that came out of “Gravel.” The guitar hopped and skipped, and sometimes barked. How did she do it?

(I would learn her rapid guitar attack emerged from five Nailene brand nails duct-taped to her fingers.)

I played that record into the ground in 1997 – played it so much that both my mother and I had it memorized from front to back. We saw Ani together for the first time that summer, sitting in the rafters of The Mann Music Center, watching her open for Bob Dylan.

“Gravel” also had a more immediate effect. Less than six weeks after I first heard it I begged my mother to buy me an acoustic guitar. I think she was surprised by my sudden vehemence – while I certainly asked for things, they were usually music or books. I didn’t frequently beg for anything, aside from the ability to get online – and I quickly became a whiz at that.

She relented and bought me a guitar. Who knows what she thought I would do with it, but the night we brought it home I learned to play “Dilate” from a guitar tab (a what?), and started to slowly decipher the tab for “Gravel.” By the end of the summer I could play the song all the way through.

That’s where “Gravel” took my brain this morning – fifteen years ago, almost to the week. Half my life – a half completely changed because of my fascination with this single, amazing song.

Thank you, Mr. DiFranco.

Madonna’s MDMA, track-by-track

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After a week of listening to Madonna’s MDNA it has cemented itself both in my brain and in the larger pantheon of Madonna LPs.

It’s not a dance album like Confessions on the Dance Floor, or a personal confession like American Life, but something just as rhythmic and confrontational as Madonna reaches her apex of electronics and outright rage. People who complain that it does not sound like Madonna may have never known what Madonna sounded like to begin with.

Now that I’m an MDNA expert in addition to a walking Madonna reference manual, here is my take on MDNA from bad to best. After much deliberation about including the Deluxe Edition songs, I decided in their favor. They’re only on a second disc because it makes physical production simpler, but they are all a part of the same work.

(If you’d like to calibrate your ratings to mine, for me 3/5 generally means I would allow a song onto my personal radio station.)

16. Gang Bang – .5/5 – Terrible

I don’t even know where to start. Five-and-a-half minutes of Madonna murmuring without consonants (like Bjork), sharing her revenge fantasies, huskily whispering, and saying “bitch” a lot has no place at track two of an album, especially when it ends with a fit of embarrassing misogynist screaming. The beats aren’t even good. Is it that any song whose writing credits read like the membership of a committee is destined to suck? Apparently if you buy the clean version of the album you don’t even have to hear this crap, which is almost worth it.

15. B-Day Song – 1.5/5 – Uneven

Really not so bad for a cutesy song potentially-improvised over what sounds like isolated elements of “Gimme All Your Luvin’.” Plus, we’re hearing a relatively clean Madonna vocal, save for reverb. I suspect this could have started as a demo for something else that turned silly over time with MIA in the studio. It might not be life-changing, but I’m still happy it’s on the LP. If it wasn’t for bonus tracks how would we ever get to hear this sort of silliness from Madonna except on tour?

14. Superstar – 2/5 – Uneven

On my first listen, I was sure this tune was the big winner on the disc. Awesomely coo-ed chorus hook? Check. Super-cute lyrics? Check. Was this song “Cherish” V2.0? If we were grading on sound only, yes! On repeat, the weakness of the lyrics really sticks out. I simply don’t dig songs rely on analogies to public figures or brands – it takes me out of the music-listening mode. Well, that’s every verse (“You’re like Abe Lincoln, ’cause you fight for what’s right.” Really?). It’s downhill from there. Lyrics about cell phone passwords? The phrase “super-duper?

Yet, the worst offense is the hopeless devotion vibe of the song. It is beneath Madonna. I’m not saying she can’t love someone. I’ve heard both “Cherish” and “Burning Up.” I get the lyrical device of the biggest star in the world calling someone else her “Superstar.” Even if it is sweet of her to say it still comes off treacly and fake. She should have handed this one over to her daughter Lourdes, who sings backups, or perhaps Katy Perry, who has no inherent sense of of self-worth. Also, for a song with this much kick and tom, they could have used better samples of each.

Self-Reference: Madonna for once underplays potential lyrical shout-outs to “Angel” and “Get Into the Groove.”

13. Beautiful Killer – 2.5/5 – Okay

The lead-off track on the deluxe edition bonus disc is decent but ultimately forgettable, like Music‘s mid-LP filler “Amazing” and “Runaway Lover.” It boasts a strong vocal (with an actual switch to head voice!), but it is disarmed by a plodding drum loop and a boring descending interval on the chorus. Still, on most Madonna LPs this wouldn’t be marooned to a bonus disc – it’s fine mid-album fare.

12. I Don’t Give A 2.5/5 – Okay

High on the list of things that the majority of the world is disinterested in hearing is Madonna’s rapping, closely followed by her discussing the ins and outs of her daily routine in song rather than in a vicious B&W documentary. Yet, here we are again.

Despite my disinterest in the elements, Madonna makes them work better here than on “American Life.” To be honest, the arrangement is kinda tight. The pseudo-rapping is less barky than past efforts and adds a lot of fun melodic shout-backs (I love “take it down a semi-tone”). The “I’m gonna be okay” chorus hook is decent, especially followed by the series of suspended-chord harmony on the next passage.

Lyrically, Madonna isn’t trying to make her life out to be too pedestrian or glamorous – just the life of one of the most famous women in the world (although, minus points for mentioning Wi-Fi and Tweeting, the latter of which she did for the first time the day the album was released). Nicki Minaj manages to deliver an enjoyably schizophrenic rap that is almost on-topic. And, the song ends with a totally weird acappella round of the words “I don’t give a fuck” reminiscent of the acappella Flight-of-Bumblebee score of Glee. In the end, I enjoy that this is the reality of being Madonna – she is always busy, she is good at everything, and she doesn’t give a damn about what you (or I) have to say about it.

11. Give Me All Your Luvin’ – 2.5/5 – Okay

As explored in my #MusicMonday about this tune, despite it being a strong lead-single it has too many casual flaws for me to like it in the long term. Specifically, the terrible plastic arrangement in place of a real rock band and half-hearted guest appearances that don’t capitalize on the skills of Nicki and MIA. Yet, it also bears a undeniable sixties girl group vibe, which I can never completely discard. I suspect this is going to rock much harder on the forthcoming tour.

Self-Reference: “Lucky Star” merits a name-drop.

10. I Fucked Up – 3/5 – Good

There is always certain schadenfreude in Madonna acknowledging her own mistakes in song, especially when it involves her being vulgar. The majority of this song is a delightfully down-tempo electronic track with earphone busting bass drum, simple acoustic guitar, actual strings, and a plaintive, accessible melody. If the track stayed there I would likely rank it higher, but there is a whole “I miss all the stuff we could have done together because we are rich” part. Surprisingly, only a line or two winds up being cringe-worthy, but the cutesy, accelerated major key arrangement is grating right up until it blossoms back into the awesome refrain. This one really deserved to be on the full disc, and it’s much less offensive than “Gang Bang.”

Self-Reference: Checks “Sorry” by apologizing in another language.

9. Masterpiece – 3/5 – Good

Madonna’s Golden Globe winning tune from her film W.E.  is a finely-constructed, mid-tempo, acoustronic ballad with lyrics that can withstand scrutiny. Plus, it bears some considerable hooks. The only minor downside is the clipped vocoder vocals behind the lead on the chorus – they would be better as organic supporting harmony. Still, this is a strong (if slightly-forgettable) ballad that might have stood a chance at an Oscar if it was eligible.

8. Falling Free – 3.5/5 – Great

At first it was hard to get a handle on this album-closing track, because there is no attack – no drums or guitar strums to orient you to the passing time. Yet, in the absence of instrumental violence, Madonna is giving this her level-best singing effort on wide, Evita-esque intervals (even if she is benefiting from a little tuning up here and there). Also, the lyrics are legitimate poetry. Part of me is sort of tickled by the idea of Madonna scribbling couplets into a journal by her bedside, but in reality many of them likely came from her cousin Joe Henry, her co-writing bro-in-law and past collaborator on “Don’t Tell Me” and “Jump.”

7. Best Friend – 3.5/5 – Good

Usually any track with those words in the title is going to be a sickly sweet mess unless it is about a dog. Yes, even if it’s by Queen. Yet, this deluxe edition R&B-via-Electronica song is actually a pretty awesome track. It would fit right in on Ace of Base’s The Sign– the synthetic misery could be perfectly tracked next to “Don’t Turn Around,” especially thanks to the faux-Reggae chorus. Unlike a lot of the other ultra-personal divorce songs on the disc, this one doesn’t have a single cringe-worthy moment. Despite a lot of tuning foolery on the vocal, there are some great moments of raw, emotional performance shining through. This one was probably only exiled for not quite fitting into the sound of the LP, which begs the question of how many other amazing genre-breaking tunes Madge has tucked away.

6. Some Girls – 3.5/5 – Great

At first I thought this was a cacophonous toss-away, another divorce-fueled, woman-hating, kiss-off. Instead, it turned out to be the reciprocal of The Rolling Stones song of the same title. Mick sings about all that girls give and take, and so does Madonna, as she watches younger coquettes circle her like pretty, blonde vultures. She dissects them one by one, half a threat, half a scolding to her lovers for their lack of caution, and at least a little self-deprecating (“Some girls make a scene, shoot their mouth and talk obscene”).

This pulsing, pounding track pulls Madonna’s voice like taffy, but keeps her recognizable and distinct. It’s like a more-awesome, more bitchy-version of a killer Britney Spears cut. I will be utterly shocked if this doesn’t see release as a club single.

Self-Reference: The creepy, pitch-shifted, asexual backing vocals call back to Madonna’s boyish intro to “Music,” and at one point say “Like a virgin, sweet and clean.” She lyrically checks “Express Yourself” with “Some girls are second best, put your luvin’ to the test.”

5. I’m A Sinner – 3.5/5 – Great

A religion-referencing retread of Austin Power’s “Beautiful Stranger”? Yes, please. Even if it’s a little derivative, this is the sort of fun, off-the-leash Madonna song that makes her albums great. I love that the highest parts of the vocal aren’t auto-tuned at all, but multi-tracked into near-intelligibility. That it screeches to a halt midway through for a Gaga-aping organ-and-Saints mid-section can be forgiven, since Madonna invented that genre and does it just as well. Also, on a track actually called “I’m a Sinner” it fits right in! The verse phrases’ melodic descent from a high point paired with the monotone musical underpinning is so reminiscent of The Beatles that it has to be intentional. (Perhaps “Love You To”? I can’t quite place it.)

Self-Reference: “Get down on your knees and pray” nods at “Like a Prayer.”

4. Girl Gone Wild – 3.5/5 – Excellent

I dissed this track when it debuted as sounding a little generic for Madonna. However, after hearing the entire album I see a lot more of her in this than I do in many of the other songs, even if she didn’t write it. It is no different than “Everybody” or “Get Into the Groove” – just let the music take you.

The octave-leaping title hook is incredibly infectious, as is Madonna’s recent signature of hiccuping remixed vocals (take that, Gaga, with your Stu-stu-stuttering). Yes, the arrangement is a little clubland generic, but that is the frame this disc is pictured within. On the whole, this helps define the divide between this LP and the R&B of Hard Candy and danceable Confessions on the Dancefloor. MDNA handily achieves both, but it’s more about falling into the synthesizers voice-first until each song becomes its own highly-addictive remix. Also, the video is ultra-hot.

Self-Reference: Intro backgrounds are incredible similar to “Get Together.” Namechecks “Bad Girl.” Starts with a call out to god, as does the Immaculate Collection remix of “Like a Prayer.” Mentions the word “Erotic.” Points off for forgetting that “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” is not actually a reference to her own music, but the mantra of her main 80s competitor.

3. Turn Up The Radio – 4/5 – Excellent

This is the proof-of-concept track on the disc. It’s youthful, but it’s still Madonna. The arrangement is a little more detailed than “Girls.” In fact, minus the modern synthesizers it could have easily appeared on her first album thanks to the “music will set you free” escapism that she established there and kept on mining for her whole career. The one down side is that the lyrics are weirdly incomplete – the mention beginning a story and approaching a glowing light, but then we only get “moth/flame” metaphors as our reward.

2. I’m Addicted – 4.5/5 – Remarkable

This track sounds stolen from La Roux’s 2009 debut in the best possible way. The arrangement, performance, and lyrics could all stand up next to her delicious “Bulletproof.” It starts with one of my favorite Madonna lyrics of all time:

When did your name change from a word to a charm?
No other sound makes the hair stand up on the back of my arm
All of the letters pushed to the front of my mouth
And saying your name is somewhere between a prayer and a shout
And I can’t get it out

Are you fucking kidding me? On a Madonna song? That lyric is amazing! Around her words a spool of arppegiated synths unfurl. They are contained to higher frequencies for over a minute, and just as you begin to wonder if this tune will ever have a proper thump they swell downward to fill up the low end. It is the best-case scenario for an entirely synthesizer-based song – it is intricately detailed and covers a wide dynamic range.

(Sadly, we can’t necessarily attribute the lyrics to Madonna, as the producer team behind this one also delivered “Girl Gone Wild, words and all.)

Self-Reference: So, would she say that when she calls your name, it’s like… a little prayer?

It’s hard to believe “I’m Addicted” didn’t nab the #1 spot from me, as it rightfully would have on either of the last two Madonna albums, but MDNA has an incredibly clear victor:

1. Love Spent – 5/5 – Unassailable

I suppose I have to take back what I said above about songs written by committee, because this song has as many songwriters as “Gang Bang,” but that is the only sentence that should ever mention them both in a single breath.

This song is amazing. One of her best ever. It starts with a banjo, of all things, and then an electronics-coated Madonna voice singing higher than her usual (maybe even in her elusive mixed register).  It gets personal right off the bat – would she be divorced (or: even married) if she wasn’t Madonna? Can anyone love her as a person separately from her bank account?

Luckily, in the midst the heavy contemplation, the song is almost all-hook – remarkable, considering how many words it has. I have found myself singing almost every section of the song on repeat under my breath this past week, not the least of which are the songs sharpest lyrics:

Hold me like your money
Tell me that you want me
Spend your love on me
Love me like your money
Spend it till there’s nothing
Spend your love on me

The song would be great even if it stopped with that as its chorus, but then it moves on to the major-key relief of the title line. It’s like a balm to the rest of the song every time it appears.

This is what I hope for from every new Madonna album – an expanded sound, a new perspective, and a clever way to express an already heavily-treaded sentiment.

Self-Reference: The “your voice / no choice” rhyme from (yet again) “Like a Prayer.” It’s a goldmine of ideas, apparently.

#MusicMonday: “Blood for Poppies” – Garbage

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I love music. I have so many favorite artists that it would take a month to highlight them all, and my “five-star songs” list in iTunes can play for days without a repeat.

There is one artist that eclipses them all: Garbage.

I have never been able to explain it. Garbage flies in the face of a lot of my specific musical preferences. They don’t have the best lyrics. They are not the most creative songwriters. Shirley Manson is not always a technically strong singer. They often let sophisticated production obscure the human performances that make a song.

I don’t care. I never have. There is something about their formula – Shirley Manson plus Butch Vig, Duke Erikson, and Steve Marker – that forms the most compelling possible music for me.

That means it is a very, very big deal when they debut their first single after a nearly seven-year hiatus, interrupted by the release of just a few scant b-sides.


(Hurry up and download “Blood for Poppies” for free directly from Garbage while it is still available!)

There are many familiar facets about this song. The throbbing, undifferentiated layers of guitars and drums topped with a crisp, chiming electric. The obnoxiously fuzzy riff that at once underpins and interrupts the phrases. Shirley’s sultry, half-spoken unspooling of lyrics. An unusual bridge that interrupts and deconstructs the song, yet perfectly returns us to exactly the point where it began.

Then there is the chorus. Layered vocals as far as the ear can hear, and army of Shirley Manson in perfect, major-key harmony, obscuring all but the most rudimentary rhythms beneath her.

I love it. It screams that Garbage is still Garbage, sounding somehow the same but different. Yet, it builds that from a stingily small handful of elements that are nearly recursive, all easily referenced to past exploits. Shirley sounds fierce and comfortable, a combination of her bombshell 00s vocals and her signature 90s wratch. Yet, the lyrics are stitched-together and nearly-rapped, less of the band’s tainted love hallmark and more of catchy outliers like “When I Grow Up” or “Shut Your Mouth.”

Do the detraction mean I’ve stopped pounding this track on repeat for the past week? No. Even the worst Garbage song (which this is nowhere near) is still a song that infects my brain in a neuron-by-neuron guerrilla campaign.

Will this be the sound of Not Your Kind of People? Probably not. No single Garbage song ever communicates the full arsenal of its album – especially not the lead single. Was the dark, surging, vengeful “Vow” the most representative track of Garbage? Was the pastiche of riffs and whispered howl of “Push It” a better sample of Version 2.0 than “I Think I’m Paranoid” or “Special”? Did the gender-bending stomp of “Androgyny” adequately explain the sour pop spectacular of Beautiful Garbage? And, did the Sabbath-esque riff and sparse verses of “Why Do You Love Me” explain the stripped down, real-band sound of Bleed Like Me?

I guess that’s just one more way that Garbage stands apart from all of the other bands I love. While I struggle to dissect and define their music, with Garbage all that is an afterthought. I have an inherent trust of Garbage that no other artist I love can engender. I can’t help but dissect their songs, but for once it is beside the point. It’s not why I’m listening.

I’m listening because, over fifteen years after I first listen to the full length of their debut, they are still my favorite band on the planet.

Not Your Kind of People is out on May 15 in standard and deluxe versions (deluxe includes extra songs, and Garbage are known for the awesomeness of their B-Sides).

#MusicMonday: “Drunk with the Thought of You” – Sheryl Crow

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The mass music media seems to have lost the plot on covering Sheryl Crow after 2002’s sunny (if flimsy) C’Mon C’Mon failed to spawn the breakthrough singles of her previous efforts.

Pair that with a monster performances from her Kid Rock duet “Picture” and greatest hits (so far) cover of “The First Cut is the Deepest,” and I feel like everyone shut the book on Ms. Crow. “Yes, you are incredible singer, consistent songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and multiple Grammy winner – but you have a Greatest Hits out, you’re getting older now, and the Lance Armstrong romance is getting a little dull. I think that means we’ll put you on the ‘Adult Contemporary / No Real Coverage or Radio Play’ shelf.”

Did Sheryl Crow help with Wildflower, a sleepy, almost-all ballads follow-up? Maybe, but for one of the few career solo females to emerge from 90s rock you’d think she’d get their benefit of the doubt with every album. Sadly, women in music have to stay hot and poppy to stay on the cover of magazines. Being a tremendous songwriter doesn’t cut it.

Things don’t work that way in my world – it takes a lot for me to unsubscribe from an artist who I adored for over a decade. That is how I discovered that her 2008 record, Detours, was one of her strongest efforts and includes a pair of her best songs of all time – “Drunk with the Thought of You” and “Love Is All There Is.”

And – how freaking cool is this – there is a “making of” webisode on YouTube for “Drunk”!

(Always nice to see that big, famous songwriters argue and stumble over the same sorts of things that Gina and I do :)

No matter the writing partner, Crow has maintained an earthy, 70s AM radio vibe across a career of strong songwriting. On “Drunk with the Thought of You” she transcends that to head right to the source, finding Beatles-esque perfection in marrying a unifying lyrical theme to a simple chord structure. I’d hold this song up alongside “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away.” It’s that good.

I find it hard to comprehend that a song this good will fade into obscurity as the B-side of a low-selling, mid-career LP. Every fan of good songwriting should know this song. I highly suggest that you drop $.99 on buying the album cut on iTunes or Amazon – and, remember, just because the media narrative on an artist has run dry doesn’t mean that they aren’t capable of producing the best work of their career.

#MusicMonday: “Shores of California” – Dresden Dolls

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Three years ago, Amanda Palmer was one of the first people to engage with me on Twitter – and, I’m not just talking famous people. People in general.

I don’t always love Amanda’s solo ukele-based efforts as much as the songs from her revelatory punk-cabaret two-piece Dresden Dolls, but I continue to follow her becasue she is one of the most honest and open full-time rock stars on the internet. She contends 24/7 with the trials and concerns I encounter only in rehearsal (four days of our seven, last week).

On Friday, Amanda was tweeting about recording a new record with a new band, and in the stream of messages this one stuck out…

… and not just because it involved one of my top five tunes by Amanda…

It stuck out because, as with many things Amanda shares, it expressed something I have felt about music but haven’t ever really articulated.

Historically, Arcati Crisis learns songs at a rate of about four a year. Since Gina and I each write on our own, that means we’re learning just two of my tunes – yet, I write anywhere from six to twenty songs in a year.

As a result, my perspective on song-picking for AC is that every one of my choices must be lead-single quality. I don’t like subtle picks. Every new song of mine that we choose has to be awesome enough to obliterate the memory of all prior songs.

A few years ago, Gina picked “Unengaged” from my available songs. It’s a song I love. It’s complex, but catchy. It’s challenging to play and sing, but not impossible. It seemed like a good pick.

It lasted about two rehearsals. The problem wasn’t the complexity … it was the emotion. “Unengaged” is about the period where I had decided I was going to propose to E but hadn’t yet gone through with it. It’s a hard type of energy to connect with – happy, but uncertain if that’s the right thing to be – and because of the delicacy of the vocal, I need to nail the emotion behind it to get it right.

I realized quickly that it was destined to be a “live unfavorite.” I already loved what Gina was doing with it, but I knew it would fall to the bottom of my list as we chose setlists because I wouldn’t always want to summon the emotions to sing it. And, with only two songs to choose each year, what would be the point of picking something if I didn’t want to play it?

(I did the same thing a year later with “Tattooed,” at which point Gina and I agreed that songs specifically about E are generally not the best choice as Arcati Crisis songs, exactly for the reason that they can become live unfavorites for me as some new emotion between E and I supersedes the older one in the song.)

That’s not to say that I don’t sometimes select emotionally hard-to-deliver songs for AC. “Love Me Not,” “Dumbest Thing I Could Do,” and “End With Me” can all be hard to get emotionally right and incredibly draining when I do. I was ready to fall on the ground after delivering a searing “End With Me” at our holiday revue, and had to spend the next thirty minutes avoiding conversation with other guest. Yet, those songs simply aren’t personal the way songs about E are. I get to play a character.

When they were together, the Dresden Dolls learned songs at a much faster rate than 4 per year, so Amanda could afford to bring a song to the band that might not become a live staple. It was still worth hearing the band version, and worth recording. Fans still love it. It spawned a hilarious music video. It’s just hard for her to play.

This week Gina and I are picking our next pair of songs to learn, having already learned a pair in January. That means we’ll have hit our 4-song quota by April. Will this be the year we learn an entire album’s worth of new music in twelve months? If it is, I wonder if I will eventually tap a live unfavorite as one of my choices.