Trent Reznor is industrial’s George Brett, Green Day is punk’s Ozzie Smith

Posted on April 17, 2015 by Patrick Garvin

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s 30th Annual Induction Ceremony is Saturday. This year, the inductees are notable for who is getting in on their first year eligible and who is finally getting in after languishing in the ether for years. And, ss with most years, who isn’t being inducted is just as notable as who is.

This year’s inductees:

Ringo Starr
The “5” Royales
The Paul Butterfield Blues Band
Green Day
Joan Jett & the Blackhearts
Lou Reed
Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble
Bill Withers

Notably not among this year’s inductees:

Chic
Kraftwerk
The Marvelettes
N.W.A.
Nine Inch Nails
The Smiths
The Spinners
Sting
War

Among past inductees:

Daryl Hall and John Oates
Randy Newman
David Geffen
Madonna
Public Enemy
Run D.M.C.
Beastie Boys
Donna Summer
R.E.M.

I mention past inductees not to throw shade on those inductees, as that list includes some of my favorite artists. I merely mention those artists for context. In other words, why those guys and not their counterparts who’ve been neglected?

This year was the first year that both Green Day and Nine Inch Nails were eligible. Joan Jett & the Blackhearts have been eligible a few years now. Ringo Starr, Lou Reed, and Bill Withers have been eligible for decades.

The interesting thing is that while both Green Day and Nine Inch Nails were eligible for the first time, Green Day was inducted and Nine Inch Nails was not. These two have more in common with each other than they do with any of the others who were inducted or eligible but not inducted, which is why inducting one and omitting the other seems so noticeable. To put this in perspective, let’s think of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame like the Baseball Hall of Fame, and let’s think of Green Day’s and Nine Inch Nails’ respective genres — punk and industrial — of music as Major League Baseball teams.

Punk is like the St. Louis Cardinals, having had several inductees in the Hall of Fame: Patti Smith, The Sex Pistols, The Ramones, The Clash. Green Day, thus, is the genre’s Ozzie Smith: immensely popular and one of the more well-known players of the last 30 years. They aren’t the all-time best, but they are considered up there, particularly among younger fans. And don’t think age doesn’t matter in the context of punk. Any punk fan of a certain age can’t have a barstool or coffee shop conversation about punk without bringing up Green Day and modern acts just to point out how inferior they are to the forefathers, whether it’s because Billy Joe affects an over-the-top faux-British accent whine or because the band has moved into “Time of Your Life” ballad-type cheese. Now, I don’t think any Cardinals fan will ever dare hate on Ozzie, but if you ask Cards fans who their favorite shortstop is, age will divide your answers: Ozzie among younger fans, Marty Marion among older fans. Marty Marion, like the punk band Black Flag, never made it into the Hall of Fame. But both were among the best at their game.

If punk is the St. Louis Cardinals, and the goofy Green Day is its backflipping Ozzie Smith, then industrial music is the Kansas City Royals and Trent Reznor is its dour-faced George Brett. Ozzie Smith, a contemporary of Brett’s, was one of many beloved players for the Cardinals. But there is no Royals player more beloved or well-known than George Brett. If you’re only a casual baseball fan, then Brett is probably the only Royals player you can name, just as Reznor and Nine Inch Nails are the only industrial act that mainstream music fans probably know. Nine Inch Nails’ “Closer” off 1994’s “The Downward Spiral” cemented Reznor’s stature the way that the Royals’ 1985 World Series win cemented Brett’s. Only fans with some deeper knowledge would really know much about:

Dan Quisenberry, who was the Royals’ version of Ministry
Bret Saberhagen, who was Kansas City’s Skinny Puppy
Frank White, KMFDM to Brett’s Reznor
Amos Otis and Hal McRae, the Die Krupps and Throbbing Gristle who set the stage
Carlos Beltran, the Frontline Assembly to Saberhagen’s Skinny Puppy

If you only knew a few of those bands or players, you prove my point: George Brett is the standard-bearer of the Kansas City Royals and Trent Reznor is the commercial face of industrial music. Not that these are bad things. Neither guy is anything to sneeze at, to be sure. Brett is one of four players in MLB history to accumulate 3,000 hits, 300 home runs, and a career .300 batting average. The others being Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, and punk rock St. Louis Cardinal Stan Musial. Brett had longevity, being the only player in MLB history to win a batting title in three different decades. Reznor has had success not only with Nine Inch Nails, but in his film scores as well. The man has won Golden Globes, Grammy awards and an Oscar. He’s immensely talented and driven, which is why he’s still recording and performing 26 years after 1989’s “Pretty Hate Machine” introduced many squares to industrial music.

I’m hammering this point home like George Brett’s 3-run home run off Goose Gossage in Game 3 of 1980 ALCS because the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame has managed to have artists from almost every genre of rock. Nine Inch Nails’ induction would give industrial a presence that no other mainstream commercial artist could give. They’re certainly not going to induct Al Jourgensen. (Or Dan Quisenberry.)

Of course, these things aren’t always fair, which is why Bill Withers is just now being inducted. Or why Daryl Hall and John Oates got in before Stevie Ray Vaughan. Or why Chic hasn’t been inducted yet. Or why so many others aren’t in the Hall of Fame. Finding instances of unfair omissions in the Hall of Fame’s history is like finding MLB players who used steroids: not difficult. Pontificating on all of those oversights would take a while. A lot more than nine innings.

The main thing to remember here is that contemporaries George Brett and Ozzie Smith each entered the Baseball Hall of Fame when eligible. I don’t think many fans would disagree, nor would any fan argue that either one shouldn’t have been inducted.

Thus, if Green Day can enter but Nine Inch Nails can’t, well…

Wake this basketcase when September ends.

Ben Folds, “Rockin’ The Suburbs” and the visceral pain of memory

Posted on September 11, 2011 by Patrick Garvin

You can hear a soft but undeniable thud in the first second of “Annie Waits,” the opening track to Ben Folds’ album, “Rockin’ The Suburbs.” That first second and the entire album that followed set the tone for how I would remember the day on which that album was released.

September 11, 2001.

Ben Folds' first solo album, Rockin' the Suburbs

It seems silly and almost blasphemous to mark the anniversary of that album’s release when today has a much more momentous and globally profound anniversary. But for me and for at least a few other people, that album became our cave for months after 9/11. We were 19 and 20, scared of the future, judgmental of our pasts and unsure of the present. That basically describes a lot of my twenties, and particularly my college days. Discovering Ben Folds was rather serendipitous, because he was the patron saint of being scared of the future, judgmental of his own past and unsure of the present. Songs about crazy girlfriends, growing up, suburban nerds and fired journalists would appealed to us, a dorm full of suburban nerds with crazy girlfriends during a time when J-school seemed daunting. And when you consider that the whole album’s theme could be summed up as “musings about growing up and dealing with the pains of impending adulthood,” it seemed fitting for us to discover the album when we did.

Christmas came and with it, New Year’s Day. The visceral reaction to that day was replaced with an abstract “What does it all mean?” perspective, which involved less crying. My friends and I continued our sequences at The University of Missouri School of Journalism, and quicker than we knew it, we were working on projects for the first anniversary of Sept. 11.

And all the while, we were listening to Ben Folds. I saw him live in concert four times between September 2001 and November 2002. My friend Josh saw him at least five times during that same time.

I didn’t realize until now, but my streak of seeing Ben Folds live ended around the first anniversary of 9/11. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. Maybe that album was tied too closely to a period that hurt too much for me to revisit on a regular basis. Which is a shame, because that album has some great songs. Of course, one of those songs is about a journalist getting unceremoniously laid off, and that, too, is not something I want to think of on a daily basis.

When it comes to music and Sept. 11, I don’t want to return to that day. I’d rather listen to Bruce Springsteen’s “The Rising” and return to the summer after 9/11. Springsteen’s album, and particularly the title track, provided a hopeful release for the emotions. If music has to take me back to 9/11 memories, I’d prefer it take me to Sept. 11, 2002.

With “The Rising” and other music inspired by 9/11, I can prep myself and think of it philosophically. I’ve been inundated by enough images, sound bites and musings about that day that I’ve been so overwhelmed that I can’t muster up a reaction.

Memory is a visceral thing. It has its own senses: its own smells, its own tastes, its own sounds. Try as I might to numb myself to certain memories, it is those smells, tastes and sounds that triumph, taking me back in time. Sometimes taking me to places I don’t want to go.

But if I go to the actual music of that day, I go back to the sounds, tastes and memories I don’t want to remember. I can try to suppress thoughts, but smells and sounds are stronger than that. And in the case of Ben Folds, he takes me back to a time before I learned how to suppress things.

RELATED: 9/11 in pop culture

My moot point against Rick Springfield and “Jessie’s Girl”

Posted on August 23, 2011 by Patrick Garvin

Happy Birthday to Rick Springfield, who turns 62 on Tuesday. He is best remembered for his 1981 song, “Jessie’s Girl.” And best known to my friends as the guy who spawned my now defunct war on the word “moot.”

When I was a copy editing intern, my friend and I bonded over stories of our favorite pet peeves and word misuses. I had the pedestrian ones everyone has: “their/there/they’re” and “you’re/your.” But my friend one-upped me with her distaste for Rick Springfield and his use of the word moot.

I was intrigued. Why would this bug a copy editor? In the song, Rick declares his love for his friend’s girlfriend. He says, “I want to tell her that I love her, but the point is probably moot.”

That use of the word is acceptable in the vernacular, but according to Merriam-Webster, the word has two meanings:

open to question : debatable : subjected to discussion : disputed
deprived of practical significance : made abstract or purely academic

Similarly, the definitions from the OED:

Originally in Law, of a case, issue, etc.: proposed for discussion at a moot (MOOT n.1 4). Later also gen.: open to argument, debatable; uncertain, doubtful; unable to be firmly resolved. Freq. in moot case, [moot] point.
N. Amer. (orig. Law). Of a case, issue, etc.: having no practical significance or relevance; abstract, academic. Now the usual sense in North America.

“Jessie’s Girl” used the word in its second meaning: not worth debating, already decided, irrelevant, etc. But that wasn’t the FIRST definition given in the dictionaries, and upon later, research, it wasn’t necessarily the original definition of the word.

According to TheFreeDictionary.com:

The adjective moot is originally a legal term going back to the mid-16th century. It derives from the noun moot, in its sense of a hypothetical case argued as an exercise by law students. Consequently, a moot question is one that is arguable or open to debate. But in the mid-19th century people also began to look at the hypothetical side of moot as its essential meaning, and they started to use the word to mean “of no significance or relevance.” Thus, a moot point, however debatable, is one that has no practical value. A number of critics have objected to this use, but 59 percent of the Usage Panel accepts it in the sentence The nominee himself chastised the White House for failing to do more to support him, but his concerns became moot when a number of Republicans announced that they, too, would oppose the nomination. When using moot one should be sure that the context makes clear which sense is meant.

Back then, we zealous 22-year-old copy editors thought that the first definition should be the primary definition and that it must be Rick Springfield’s fault for the opposite definition. In our minds, the word had meant “disputed, debatable and open to discussion” until the very moment he released “Jessie’s Girl” as a single.

From that moment on, I adopted my friend’s dislike for Rick Springfield. I disparaged him whenever I heard him.

On a movie soundtrack…

On a jukebox…

This went on for about four years. Then, I became more accepting of the changing nature of words. Many people will say “podium” when they mean “lectern.” “Presently,” which meant “in the immediate future,” became an acceptable substitute for “currently.” If we were really sticklers for word use, Otis Redding’s “(Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay” would really be “(Sittin’ On) The Pier Of The Bay.” The dock, which can mean “landing pier,” also means the water right around the pier.

But we’ve forgiven those deviations and have even incorporated them into our language. And, as language evolves, it’s important to recognize what people will understand and won’t understand. If most people know “moot” to mean “irrelevant” and “not debatable,” then I’m fighting a losing battle if I try to use the original meaning. Language evolves, and so I had to evolve as well.

So I had to find another reason to mock Rick Springfield.

For more on the word “moot,” check out this blog post on Talk Wordy To Me.

20 years after “black album,” Metallica’s platinum records compared

Posted on August 10, 2011 by Patrick Garvin

It was 20 years ago this week, on Aug. 12, 1991, that Metallica’s self-titled fifth studio album was released. In the two decades since its release, the “black album” has become Metallica’s defining album. It is certified 15X platinum, far above any other studio album by the band.

Five years later, the band teamed up once again with Bob Rock, the producer of the “black album” (so named for its black cover). “Load,” Metallica’s sixth studio album, was released in the summer of 1996. Hardcore fans said that the band had “sold out.” Some said it was because the band members had cut their hair. My friend Ned felt conflicted buying “Load,” but I told him that his long hair made up for their sins of cutting their glorious manes.

Anywho, for the 20th anniversary of the album that spawned “Enter Sandman” and “Sad But True,” I thought I’d look up the band’s platinum certifications on Recording Industry Association of America’s website. Using the RIAA’s listings, I created the following chart of when the band’s nine studio albums were certified platinum, double platinum, triple platinum, and so on.

Of course, another way to compare how many times each album went platinum would be to use bars. Here is each album and its number of platinum certifications, by order of release:

What can these charts tell us?

The “black album” is definitely the Metallica’s biggest commercial success. Add up the number of platinum certifications for all the studio albums they’ve done since and you won’t still won’t match it.
The band’s platinum certifications increase with each album through the “black album” and then decrease with each album after that. Of course, all of this is with the hindsight of 20 years. The newer albums might eventually be certified platinum again after they’ve been “out long enough” to catch up with the others. I’m not sure that will happen, though.
In the 2000s (whatever that decade is to be called), the Metallica albums that continued to get certified had been released between 1984 and 1991.
The post-“black album” records see an initial jump but don’t continue getting certified the way that the other non-“black album” discs do. Again, those older albums have been out a lot longer, so they have had the time to climb steadily.

Another thought

Bob Rock produced that record and every studio album through “St. Anger” in 2003. They used a different producer for “Death Magnetic,” which a lot of die-hard fans think is the best in 20 years. My theory? Fans who gravitated toward the unpolished sounds of the first four albums liked that familiar style in “Death Magnetic.” “Metallica” had a lot more polished sound and each album sounded cleaner and cleaner. “Death Magnetic,” though, sounds like it’s going to rob you, knife you and then eat you.

Of course, maybe it’s simpler than that. Maybe it’s not Bob Rock, the band members’ hair or any of that. Many bands or artists have that classic album to which fans will compare every other album that band or artist will release. For Metallica, it’s the “black album.” Those guys could cure cancer and some headbanger would say, “That’s good and all, but it’s no ‘black album.'”

INFOGRAPHIC: Rebecca Black’s “Friday” vs. The Cure’s “Friday, I’m In Love”

Posted on March 24, 2011 by Patrick Garvin

So, in the last few weeks, 13-year-old Rebecca Black’s song “Friday” has gone viral. It’s a song about an eighth-grader getting ready for school on a Friday and getting excited for the weekend.

Did I mention it’s by a 13-year-old?

Exile in Phairville

Posted on August 1, 2010 by Patrick Garvin

I have finally listened to the new Liz Phair album, which she released herself over Fourth of July weekend via her website.

Don’t know who Liz Phair is? What you might recognize will be two singles from her 2003 album, “Liz Phair”:

Essential Liz Phair:

At her peak, her music was brash, unfiltered, gritty, angsty and totally stream-of-conscious. She was Joan Jett, Rickie Lee Jones, Tori Amos, Ani DiFranco and Kim Gordon.

But then she did what so many musicians (and other humans) do: get married, have kids, settle down and become less angsty. By the time 2003’s poppy “Liz Phair” was released, she was more a contemporary of Sheryl Crow than Ani or Tori. Purists cringe at that album the way that “Star Wars” nerds lament the release of “The Phantom Menace” or the way Metallica fans lament when the band cut its mullets.

And now that she’s no longer signed to a label, she has carte blanche to do whatever she wants. On her new album, “Funstyle,” she raps, she mixes in loops of phones and other noises and gives voice to record executives talking about horrible the album is. It’s as if she’s had her Margot Kidder breakdown and is embracing it. You go, girl. Be as nuts as you want to be, I’ll still listen to you.

If possible, 19-year-old Pat would marry his mind’s version of 25-year-old Liz Phair. Hell, 28-year-old Pat might marry that version of Phair. She was the epitome of every cool girl you hear about in a Smithereens song. I don’t know if I’d marry the 2010 version of her, but I’d totally grab coffee and a beer with her and be her friend. We could go to cute little coffee houses and discuss music, then go to a movie, and maybe then discuss it after with a beer. We’d say “totes,” “obvee” and “unfortch,” even though she’s 43 and I’m almost 29 and probably shouldn’t talk like that.

So, my past adoration of her won’t let me write her off. Sure, I won’t listen to this album every day, nor will I re-listen to every track, but her change over time hasn’t bothered me they way has others. I think she’s growing up. Not every album is going to be pissy, existentialist angst anthems about sex and youth and all the stuff that defined her. If Kurt Cobain were still alive, do you think he’d still be putting out “Smells Like Teen Spirit”? Probably not. He might sing anthems about parenthood, the family mini-van and the mortgage crisis and how it’s tough to grow old. He would not be too different from Liz Phair. And we’d listen to it at least a few times before setting it aside, because, well, he’s Kurt Cobain and we liked him when we were younger. It’s the same reason why I won’t outright dismiss a new album by Madonna or New Order or The Magnetic Fields, and it’s the same reason why I won’t dismiss “Funstyle.” Just yet, anyway.

Some tracks from the new album:

Patrick Garvin: Blog

Tag Archives: music