Bloc Party in odd rush release

Tomorrow Bloc Party are set to release their third album Intimacy, taking the increasingly common step of rushing it out in order to avoid leakage onto peer-to-peer downloading networks. Except they’re not releasing it properly, they’re just making it available to download two months before the CD is available to buy. Two months!

For someone like myself who values the physical artefact of an album, this is a bit of a slap in the face. I enjoy savouring the unique moment of placing a new CD in the stereo and listening to those new notes for the very first time. Yes, you can preorder the physical release now while still getting the download for a total of £10 (its £5 and £8 for the download and CD separately), but why should fans be restricted in this way or forced to wait longer to receive their prized new record when they are the ones who are willing to pay for the album and probably who will value it the most?

Of course the music industry today is in turmoil and needs to find new ways to make money to combat the popularity of illegal downloading. But this strategy seems both foolhardy and disrespectful to fans. Making it available online so far in advance of the physical release will not stop it from appearing on peer-to-peer networks. CD buyers who make still make up the majority of the record-buying public are unlikely to be lured into legal downloads this way and so a huge part of the market will be cut out for rather a long period of time. Why not make the most of these fans’ enthusiasm by releasing the physical record sooner?

I have another issue with Bloc Party’s methods here. We have been promised that the CD will have different tracks to the initial internet release but it has not been specified what exactly these tracks will be. They could be bonus b-sides, live versions, additional new album tracks or something different altogether. If they are effectively bonus tracks then the marketing strategy seems confused – why snub CD buyers for now while simultaneously encouraging people to hold out for the physical release with the prospect of extra material?

If, on the other hand, these tracks are intended to form part of the actual album itself, then you have to wonder about the band’s respect for the album format. It seemed so strange, in the case of second long-player A Weekend in the City, that a group who had taken the time to craft a quasi-concept album would be happy to re-release it with an additional single jammed in the middle, throwing the integrity of the tracklisting and running order out the window. Now, their third album could be altered in a similar way.

Of course whether these tactics are down to the band themselves or their record company is unclear. But what seems apparent is that artists and industry types alike have yet to formulate a realistic and sensible strategy to combat internet piracy.

Intimacy is available to download and pre-order from Thursday 21 August from www.blocparty.com

From the mouths of babes

I don’t know why exactly, but the sound of children singing on pop records fills me with angsty dread. It’s not that I dislike kids in any way or have anything against young people raising their voices in song. It’s not some repressed childhood memory thing either – embarrassing revelation coming up – I actually rather enjoyed being part of the school choir; not that it did anything for my credibility or popularity at the time though, and we once absolutely butchered Bohemian Rhapsody.

I raise this issue now as Swedish singer Lykke Li releases another frustratingly catchy single ‘Breaking It Up’. On previous tracks ‘Little Bit’ and ‘I’m Good, I’m Gone,’ the potentially irritating bubblegum tunes were made irresistible by her enticing voice, sweet and innocent yet so sexual and aware that a few notes were enough to conjure the mental image of her legs wrapped firmly around you. But on ‘Breaking It Up’ all that is replaced with the incessant whining of (at least what sounds like) a gang of twelve-year-old girls. The fantasies vanish in seconds and my hand rushes for the stop button. Listener’s droop. When it comes to pop songs, there’s just something about the high-pitched unison of a children’s chorus that seems inherently out of place.

For the last 50 years, from rock’n’roll to hip-hop, pop music has been the cultural representation of teenage rebellion, of fighting against the system and breaking free from authority. Sex, drugs and occasional political diatribes were the themes and guitars and turntables were the means. Of course the reality of the music industry production line is most often a world away from this romanticised image; but in my mind, the sound of a harmonised troupe of young people, trained and disciplined by their elders, is the opposite of pop’s symbolic freedom.

I fear I’ll always have this immediate aversion to the sound of children on record. It was a stroke of genius to for Pink Floyd to invert the common connotations of the choir by getting a bunch of cockney schoolkids to coarsely holler “We don’t need no, educayshun!” Yet I still can’t help but cringe when their prepubescent voices emerge from my speakers. Maybe attending one too many recitals has forever burnt the associations of Andrew Lloyd Webber medleys into my brain.

Ironically, my own choir carried out a miniature rebellion by refusing to sing Another Brick in the Wall at the suggestion of one long-haired prog fan. Perhaps even then I knew that four part arrangements of unbroken voices just weren’t meant for rock and roll.

Top five songs to shudder to when the kids’ voices kick in:

Another Brick in the Wall (Part II) – Pink Floyd

Dirty Harry – Gorillaz

You Can’t Always Get What You Want – The Rolling Stones

Never Forget – Take That

The Lost Children – Michael Jackson This slightly obscure album track from 2001’s Invincible is especially unnerving because you don’t know how many of the kids on the record might have spent the night at Neverland.

In defence of the CD

A package arrived for me in the post yesterday. Although it wasn’t unexpected, I still got a tingle of excitement as I carefully tore open the cardboard envelope. I knew almost certainly what lay within and yet some it recreated that Christmaslike feeling of surprise and sweet anticipation.

Inside was not anything extraordinary: a CD. To most people an everyday object and hardly worth getting excited over, never mind writing a blog about. CD sales continue to decline year on year and, in an era of instant access, downloads and iPods, many view those shiny plastic discs as relics, soon to be consigned to the annals of history.

I, however, still hold a special affection for the humble CD. Of course, much of its appeal can be found tenfold in a vinyl LP: giving you something that is tangible to hold and beautiful to look at, creating a sense of musical heritage and importance. I am not trying to laud the CD as some great as a great technological and cultural icon (though the argument could probably be made). My point is more general – that music any a physical format provides something that no mp3 ever could.

iPods and the like are an incredible invention, a gift from the gods to music lovers, and the internet give us more freedom than ever before to seek out and listen to music. Illegal downloads (for all their negative points) allow us to avoid making those regrettable choices, picking albums that seemed like a good idea at the time but soon turn out to be bland, sleep-inducing or downright awful. The internet has saved me from wasting my hard-earned cash on over-hyped debuts and derivative follow-ups. At the same time it has introduced me to the work of artists I may never have spent money on without the reassurance of first hearing their records online.

Despite the wonders of the web, buying CDs remains an integral aspect of my musical experience. Aside from ensuring well deserved payment reaches the artists who spend their lives creating this wonderful stuff, there is nothing quite like undergoing the ritual that comes with a playing a newly purchased record: opening the case or sleeve, placing the disc delicately in the stereo and discovering the opening strains of a new album for the very first time without knowing where it will take you. Whether you race home from the record shop clutching your little square bag or receive it in the post, that first play always holds a mysterious combination of anticipation and trepidation , precisely because you don’t know how it will sound.

Physicality should be an essential part of the experience of owning and listening to an album. There’s the artwork to gaze over and the lyric sheet to be studied in the hope that they might yield clues to some hidden meaning of the music contained within. It’s a pleasure to read the credits and discover where the songwriting talent lies, which band member can play the theremin and the maracas, and who that entrancing backing singer is.

So don’t give on CDs just yet. Don’t forget how you treasured your favourite album, the joy of taking it out of the rack to play, and the potential that small disc held because it was a representation of the music that meant so much to you.

Glastonbury lineup revealed

With the release of the Glastonbury lineup this week I breathed a large sigh of relief. Not only did the list of bands seem distinctly average, it was almost as if the Eavises had managed to compile a billing of some of the most nauseating guitar acts to appear in the last few years: among them The Fratellis, The Hoosiers, The Wombats, The Enemy, The Courteeners and Pigeon Detectives and Scouting For Girls. If you wanted to get me to eat my own skin then force me to listen to these seven shocking excuses for bands and I’d be begging you for a knife and fork.

 

One of the big controversies about this year’s festival, even before tickets went on sale, was the announcement of US rap behemoth Jay-Z as headliner. Supposedly the idea was that the festival was getting too middle aged and middle class; it needed some fresh young blood in the audience and the way to attract it was with this “hip hop” thing the kids are talking about. Which begs the question why does the lineup include The Feeling, KT Tunstall, James Blunt, Will Young. Crowded House and Shakin’ Stevens? Shakin’ Stevens for God’s sake! You may as well paint him white and lay him down on the tarmac now. This isn’t even going to attract the Observer Music Monthly Crowd. This is pure supermarket CD shoppers’ fare. Everything seems to suggest that Michael Eavis is a hypocrite or just plain stupid. Maybe he’s just getting forgetful.

 

As I looked down the list of the three main stages (Pyramid, Other, John Peel) I could find a mere six artists I would actually want to see. ‘I just saved myself 160-plus quid’ I thought. But Glastonbury is so much more than its headliners, more than the big names, more than the main stages. The more I look around the full lineup the more I realise that I could have a fantastic time. On the smaller stages I could spend the weekend in the blissful company of Mystery Jets, My Latest Novel, The National, Patrick Watson, Make Model, Santogold, Edwyn Collins, Crystal Castles, Jamie T, MGMT, Battles, Laura Marling, The Futureheads, British Sea Power, Friendly Fires and Billy Bragg. Or just a load of artists I’ve never heard of.

And it’s this diversity that makes the festival special. It’s the fact that ultra-hip teens can catch their fare of obscure electronica and forty-somethings can come to listen to that nice chappie with the floppy hair, and grown men can relive their drunken youth to the sounds of Britpop past and an old hippy can get high in the stone circle while another old hippy strums a broken guitar and all just a few fields apart. The fact that it attempts to represent the near totality of modern British music (although it doesn’t quite manage to cover all bases) is what allows Glastonbury to retain its status as the UK’s and maybe the world’s premier music event. Maybe I should have bought a ticket.

The internet: Not quite a force for good but…

It’s funny how an opinion can form so quickly and lodge itself so deeply into your brain that you’d be prepared to voraciously argue your case with people you barely know just five minutes after you’ve dreamt up the idea. And yet, with just a little actual research into the subject, you realise that you were totally wrong and had formed your thesis from knee-jerk emotional reactions instead of any kind of thoughtful contemplation. I had originally intended to write about how the internet, and more specifically the phenomenon of message boards, has led not to an open and pluralistic forum and the creation of virtual communities; but rather how it has opened a channel for all sorts of anger, hatred and personal attacks on writers, other posters and the subjects of their musings. However, the more time I spent looking for examples to back up my case, the more difficult I found it to prove this theory. After a while I realised that I would have to concede and about-face. An often mixed-blessing it may be, but the internet is undoubtedly helping to move the media aristocracy closer to something resembling a democracy.

 

The seeds of this piece were planted when I was sent a link to a now infamous blog on the Guardian website, a travel blog written by one Max Gogarty. Max was a 19 year old gap year student who had been given the incredible opportunity of recording his exploits for the Guardian travel website, but whose final output (and subject matter) was unremarkably bland and cliché. It was a harmless piece in itself but very soon garnered mass online protest, resentment and suspicion as to why such pedestrian work had been given the honour of Guardian publishing, and cries of ‘nepotism’ ensued even before the message board inhabitants had concluded (correctly) that Max was the son of another freelance travel writer with Guardian connections. I was in full agreement that, in commissioning Gogarty junior’s piece, the website had made a blinding error that showed not just carelessness, but a lack of respect for its readership. However, I couldn’t help but wince in sympathy at some of the more bilious personal attacks on the lad and the uninformed conclusions that were jumped to regarding his background and character. It was of little surprise that first the travel editor, and then the boy’s father and other Guardian writers leapt to Max’s defence, after which the direction of anger turned more firmly towards the editorial team.

 

While this incident has been well documented and debated across the web, it hardly struck me as surprising that such bitter and enraged comments should appear on a message board. Hatred abounds on the internet from terrorism promoting websites to the comments sections that follow professional album reviews (not that I am equating the two of course). Anyone who holds a deep enough loathing of something has the ability to have their voice heard. And for this reason the net can quite often seem like a particularly biased place. There must be plenty of people who think the Kaiser Chiefs album is alright or even good, but how many of them feel strongly enough in their indifference or slight favour to write about it; how many people set up a blog in order to tell the world that Kate Nash is ‘quite nice’ or that The Pigeon Detectives’ latest single is ‘really average’? On a personal level I have often put off from participating in or even reading online discussions, or from visiting certain websites, on the basis that public contributors can very often be closed-minded and downright odious. I have even had my intelligence and abilities as a writer called into question on the basis of my personal taste. Depending on which website you are visiting, you can be a snob, a scenester and a bovine populist, an idiot, a know-it-all and a twat all at the same time. And all because you thought that Klaxons’ album had a few good tracks on it.

 

But for all this negativity, stupidity and contempt for the ideas of others that does indeed exist, public comments on the internet are mostly respectful, often thoughtful, and sometimes even well written. The more I trawled the web looking for evidence that might support my initial view of cyberspace as a realm of nastiness, the more difficult it became to find decent examples. From Drowned in Sound to Pop Justice there was the odd snipe here and the odd insult there, but largely I discovered constructive criticism, intelligent observation and even some fervent praise. Returning to the wider field outside music, I looked at a cross-selection of blogs on popular news websites with similar results. Even on sites such as Holy Moly, which revel in their own indulgent mud-slinging, the venom is tempered by pertinence and occasional sympathy, and all the abuse and profanities are uttered with tongues firmly in cheeks.

 

So why was I under the mistaken impression that every message board post went around slagging off anyone who didn’t agree with them? As I’ve already touched on, the more passionate somebody feels about a topic, the more likely they are to post on it, and the more intolerant and hateful comments certainly tend to stand out. But in my case, perhaps the illusion stems from an earlier period of youthful sensitivity, when I couldn’t tell the difference between somebody saying a particular record was shit and calling me a philistine. Maybe they were calling me a philistine – I’d like to think my tastes have grown and matured since then. Whatever the cause, I did indeed develop a certain mistrust and scepticism towards the usefulness of message boards as forums for open debate.

 

However, by being forced to justify my feelings and articulate my argument I’ve come to view that ‘submit’ button as a most useful tool, within the scope of music journalism and beyond. Now anyone can (though not everyone will) make their own views known, criticise the views of others and hopefully bring greater insight and a wider vision to debate. Just because someone has a by-line doesn’t make them right, and a well-filled comment section can remind us of this. As the whole Gogarty affair highlights (and as really we knew already), people can gain positions of importance and exposure within the media not necessarily on the basis of merit or achievement. Message boards can provide the kind of checks and balances that we treasure in an open society, even if they are not always as successful as we would hope. The internet has already offered us much-needed alternatives from the establishment authority of the mainstream press, and it can go even further by emphasising the equal validity of those whose opinions aren’t endorsed through media connections. Of course there will always be idiots who bring nothing to the table except an indier-than-thou attitude and a fondness for humiliating anyone who likes Coldplay, but even they can sometimes make an interesting point. And even Coldplay fans might have something worthwhile to say once in a while.

 

That Gogarty blog in full: http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/travelog/2008/02/skins_blog.html