38 posts tagged “smugness”
Well, lookee here: we made the [music is good] page. Again. This time it was for our insightful commentary on Weezer and the Replacements' legacy in the annals of rock history. We're surprised - not to mention honored and flattered - to be featured by the good people at Vox so soon after our last fleeting moment in the sun. But then, we can hardly blame them for recognizing greatness when they see it. We should totally become, like, a professional blogger or something.
A quick glance to the left-hand column of this page indicates that the "smugness" tag has diminished more than I'd like. To that end, now seems an appropriate time for an update of the standings in the Vox/Facebook Scrabble Challenge.
I had taken some time off from Facebook Scrabble after Scrabulous fell victim to Hasbro's copyright attorneys because the official Scrabble application was more cumbersome than I liked. Plus, I was playing too much at work and needed to stop. So I was at a bit of a disadvantage - I was way behind - when I threw my hat back into the ring a couple of months ago. It didn't take me too long for my ranking to pass Jodi's, but Dabysan was another story. He seemingly does little all day but play internet Scrabble against lesser opponents to pad his rating. I briefly passed him a few weeks ago, but my stay at the top was short-lived. Not this time, however. Despite a string of uncharacteristic and unfortunate losses to Jodi, I've been on a pretty good streak against Daby lately. That - coupled with his ability to maintain the status quo against Jodi - has landed me atop the rankings once again. Dabysan is a distant second and Jodi remains an even more distant third. And most importantly, I've been on top for close to two weeks now. With a one hundred thirty point lead over Jodi and a nail-biter with Daby in my current games, I'm poised to stay there for a while. As I should be.
Excelsior!
It's been noted that my Karaoke to the Death related posts leading up to this, the ninth year of competition, have left something to be desired. That's completely true. And it's a shame, because it occurred to me today that we have some truly tremendous subplots coming out of last year's return to glory after a down year in 2007.
You'll recall that the Eighth Annual Karaoke to the Death VIII ended with our first international contestant - Aussie Bob - taking home the Ramsey Cup. You'll also remember that Bob's "victory" was fueled by horse steroids and a relentless propaganda campaign led by Akaijen. A late "Anyone But Bob" movement developed around Matyas' fourth quarter heroics, but it was too little, too late. Under the strongarm tactics of his Jengali, Bob had developed an insurmountable lead. Later review of the tapes revealed that he had been lucky to steal victory; both Matyas and 2007 champ Emma Peel had delivered far worse performances. All KttD results are final, however, and Bob's name will forever stain the Cup with the reminder of his undeserved glory.
Oh but how things change in a year's time. Akaijen will not be in attendance at KttD IX, and many wonder (and rightfully so) how Aussie Bob will fare without his enforcer coercing votes from the weak-willed and stuffing the ballot box. Many question how much of the support Matyas garnered in her powerful debut can be attributed to the ABB factor and whether she can survive the sophomore slump that befell other strong first-timers such as Alison and Cap'n Crunch. Many are curious to see how Emma responds to a crushing defeat after what should have been KttD's first ever repeat victory and whether she, the odds-on favorite, can muster the resolve to earn her second title in three years. The story lines practically write themselves.
The conventional wisdom is that I've been basking in the afterglow of the Steelers' sixth Super Bowl victory (and my attendance at the game) and that this is the reason for my substandard KttD posting schedule. And there's probably something to that. But I would also add - to my great shame - that I believe my excitement has been tempered to this point somewhat because this is the first year ever that I've approached the competition with some doubt in my ability to win. I hate to say it, but it's true. It's a difficult thing to consider that the game really might have passed me by. But I have just spent the past few hours with Coach Vanna, and I'm more ready now than I've ever been. I - we - have got a solid strategy mapped out and I believe in the strength of our songs. The story on Saturday and Sunday may be that of the young turks poised to dominate the next wave of bad karaoketeers. The story on Monday will be that of the old dog who managed to learn a few new tricks.
Excelsior!
Once upon I time, I made coffee for a living. It was the best job I've ever had, and I was really fucking good at it. I knew most of my regular customers by name, and those few I didn't could at least count on me to get their order right without being asked. Many of them waited until I was free to order. "Hotrod's got it," they would say to my co-worker. I could tell you the difference between a Full City roast and a French roast and why the people who really take their coffee seriously prefer the Full City. I could go on about the subtle differences between the Tanzania Peaberry and the Ethiopia Yrgacheffe. I could describe in detail exactly why Starbucks is utter shit. Still can, as a matter of fact.
But the very best thing about that job was that I basically had carte blanche to be an asshole. We took our coffee seriously, and we didn't suffer fools lightly. My favorite question was when people asked me "what flavors we serve." My response was always: "We serve coffee-flavored coffee." They'd protest, of course. They always did. "That's not what I meant." I was unflappable. "Oh, I know. We serve coffee-flavored coffee." We dumped our drip coffee if it sat too long, we timed our espresso shots, and we didn't offer flavored syrups. Our regular - our tipping - customers knew not to ask for a blueberry latte. As for everyone else.... well, there was a Starbucks just a few blocks away. I gave directions on numerous occasions. If they protested, I was authorized to invite them never to return. It was bliss.
So it may be easy to guess where I come down on the issue of iced espresso. It's an abomination. The customer is not always right. In fact, the customer is often wrong. And in this case the customer is too stupid to realize that the barista in question is doing him a favor in trying to educate him about civilized coffee etiquette. This is the level to which our society has devolved: a dedication to craft and quality will get you nowhere because some yuppie jackass will scream more loudly. I just wish I had thought back then to threaten to punch my more belligerent customers in the dick.
The punchline here is that this.... whatever this is.... is better than the latest Superman movie and the latest Spiderman movie put together. Meanwhile, The Dark Knight continues to garner rave reviews and generally capture the collective imagination of the populace. It's safe to say once and for all (as if there was still any doubt) that the great superhero debate is officially over.
Three days later, we are still a little dazed after a solid week of memes. We have no idea - none at all - why memes were selected over the Question of the Day. The lone dissenter Mariser said it best. "Some QotD's are clever, others interesting, but memes are neither." The responsibility for last weeks debacle lies squarely in our court, by which we mean: we should have known better than to trust the ignorant littles with a vote. There's a reason hotrod.vox.com has been run historically with an iron fist. The littles can't be trusted to mind the goddamn store. Seriously, we give yinz an inch and look what happens. It's bedlam. As we return to our regularly scheduled programming starting tomorrow, it's safe to say we have effectively closed the book on any future gestures toward democracy. Rejoice, for the oligarchy has been restored. L'État, c'est nous.
So let’s recap. Over the past few days, I’ve mentioned how much I enjoy Grand Theft Auto IV, Prince and the Coen Brothers, the bike ride around Lake Tahoe, chicken schnitzel, and the Old 97’s. I’ll be honest - I’m a little disappointed this latest challenge is drawing to a close. I enjoy challenges. But all things must pass, and shortly we will all be treated to another thing I enjoy: posts extolling my many virtues.
And since I’ve already listed two things I enjoy for today, I may as well go for the hat trick. My first inkling was to suggest that I enjoy being sneaky and underhanded, but that’s not really accurate. I was completely above board. I took a gamble that my challenger wouldn’t read the fine print and my gamble paid off. Tomorrow I shall compose my final post in the “my favorite things challenge.” Per the conditions of our agreement, Jodi is required to compose a post extolling my many virtues on Friday. And per the nature of our agreement, that post is the only one permitted on her blog for the entirety of that day. Fortunately for Jodi, Friday is just an ordinary average day and is nothing special at all. I mean, yeah it’s the anniversary of the D-Day invasion, but the only person who cares about turning sixty-four is Paul McCartney.
I enjoy outsmarting people. It’s one of my many virtues. You will read all about it on Friday, I am sure.
Anybody who's even halfway been paying attention around here knows I enjoy the music of the Old 97's. They don't do anything groundbreaking, but that's okay. Not every band has to change popular music, and there's nothing wrong with liking those that don't. I realize this is an awkward concept for the post-ironic hipsters to grasp, but if more of them were as enlightened as I, the world would be a much happier place. We'd immediately eliminate a ton of pointless bickering. Jodi wouldn't have to pretend that the Replacements have some sort of continuing influential legacy. Dabysan wouldn't mistakenly use words like "vital" and "important" when describing the Libertines. U2's entire fan base would cease to exist. The Old 97's craft airtight pop songs and rock the shit out of them in their live show. Like I said, it's not groundbreaking, but it really is enough. Not everybody gets to be an astronaut when they grow up.
So yeah, I dig the Old 97's. But the irony is that I haven't immediately liked a single one of their records since Too Far to Care, probably not coincidentally the first one I bought. Their newest release - Blame It On Gravity - is no different, and like most of the others, I've come around (so to speak) in the three weeks I have spent with it. I can quibble with details like the Killers-esque vocal effects on the lead single "Dance With Me," but I can't argue that its menacing surf-rock vibe would be out of place on their sophomore record (and second-best effort), Wreck Your Life. The other, this time lilting, beach-flavored tune "She Loves the Sunset" reminds me of "Dancing With Tears" off of their debut. In short, they really have gone back to their roots and turned up the amps a bit. I guess what bothered me most initially about this record was that it's a departure from the Kinks-inspired pop sensibility of their later work to which I'd grown accustomed.
One of the reviews I read recently described Rhett Miller's lyrics as having "one foot in the bar and one foot in the library." I won't deny that I wish that foot was still planted a little bit more firmly in the bar these days, but then Rhett's basically the same age as me and my foot isn't in the bar as much as it used to be either. There are still more than a few great lyrics that seem simple until you realize you never thought of them. ("You've got to be a fool to be a fool in love.") Ken remains a solid journeyman guitarist, despite some highly unfortunate facial hair. Philip is the Old 97s' secret weapon; he's got that Johnny Cash freight train drum beat down cold, and the record doesn't really begin until his drum fills a minute into the opening track. His work is so solid that I won't even complain that his part on the rocker "Early Morning" is recycled from "Four Leaf Clover." Murry's songs are, however, unfortunately and disappointingly sub-par and his bouncy bass line on "Ride" makes me think the song would be better suited for Rhett's next solo outing, but his backing vocals are - as always - exquisite. If Philip is secret weapon number one, Murry and his harmony vox are a very close second.
Blame It On Gravity is by no means a perfect record, but then it's probably too much to ask any band to deliver more than one perfect record in their career. An outing like Too Far to Care - to say nothing of the aforementioned kick-ass live show - is enough to buy a lifetime of credibility. The Old 97's cashed in on some of that credibility over the past six years, but it's nice to see - and hear - them try to recapture some of what made them so interesting in the first place.
