It seems that the only reason bands appear in movies is as a way for a record label to get their music directly to a target demographic. It's been done time and time again on television programs (Remy Zero on Smallville, the Flaming Lips on Beverly Hills 90210, the Shins on Gilmore Girls, Cibo Matto on Buffy, et al.), but the in-program shilling at least dovetails nicely with the commercial interruptions. In movies, it seems that most musical acts make glaring, irritating appearances that, at best, serve no purpose and, at worse, take you out of the film entirely.
Though I'm fronting for the stoner anthem, I mean no disrespect. I don't mean to degrade a song's appeal by suggesting its only functional level is a song you can smoke a joint to -- a song only enjoyable when the edges of one's own perception have become a little frayed. In fact, the songs I've chosen, by all means, are rather enjoyable in any state. But these textures do dwell within the sensibilities of the stoned, songs that have layers of musicality without ever delivering jarring, buzz-unfriendly textures.
The Royals' season has people buzzing. Not too long ago, our city lived through a similar predicament: stinging from another KU NCAA Tournament loss -- a loss to Syracuse in the finals -- the region's sports fans turned their desperate eyes to the Royals for temporary relief. The monstrously unheralded 2003 Kansas City Royals rattled off nine straight wins and, at one point, sat above the AL Central with a 17-4 record before falling back to Earth.
Right before that season began, then-Star columnist Jason Whitlock commissioned a local rapper, X-Dash, to pen a Royals anthem that was named "Get on the Bus." I don't intend to exaggerate, but "Get on the Bus" was probably the dopest baseball anthem of all time.
The lyrics were tailor-made to that year's fairly anonymous roster, name-checking guys like Michael Tucker and Ken Harvey, a man "not to be taken light." Other sample lines: Angel Berroa is the next Frank White, and Grimsley throwing strikes into Brett Mayne's palms / See the sparks fly out of Relaford's arms. It was a magical anthem -- and a song that's now completely undetectable on the Internet. (Jason Whitlock's burning of every bridge in town probably has something to do with it; the song was, for a long time, linked onto his 810 Sports Radio profile page.) Jason, if you come across this, please send it. I must have it to show to my grandchildren.
Last summer, chillwave emerged as the go-to genre for emerging artists. Its songs were digestible but often forgettable, snippets of sample pop accented by reverb-heavy vocals leaning heavily on the DIY aesthetic. It had its day in the sun, but much of the genre's foundation and critical support began to erode as early as last fall.
Initially, South Carolina's Toro Y Moi -- playing tonight at the Riot Room -- was clumped into this genre and seemed to enjoy the goofy characterization of his music. Others, like Neon Indian's Alan Palomo, were more defensive and did what they could to avoid the chillwave label. Of course, that didn't work, but chillwave (also called "hypangogic pop" by UK's The Wire) was never really built for durability.
Your top 10 chillwave artists: Where are they now?
Unless you don't have the Internet, you probably already know that the SXSW media festival went down last week in Austin. The Pitch writer Corban Goble was on hand for the music portion (March 15-19), and here are his 10 most notable stories from SXSW 2011, which will go down as the most over-documented event of all time -- at least, until SXSW 2012. (Music nerds, get ready to live vicariously.)
Recently, Wayward tossed off a blog entry about Lady Gaga and her future fragrance. (Can we even call it that?) While we are still grossed out over the idea of buying something that smells like blood and, um, man goo, we have also given some thought to how she will promote such a product. Then it hits: why not in one of her erratic music videos? The idea isn't new. Pop artists have been pimping their own products through video placement a lot recently. Here's a list of five starlets guilty of shamelessly promoting their fragrances in music videos.
Talk about curbing the birth rate, eh? In a partnership with LifeStyle condoms, the notoriously trashy party girl Ke$ha has recently emblazoned a bunch of condoms with her face, and she blasts them out of the infamous glitter cannon onstage during her shows. For an all-ages show that hosts an 8-foot-tall penis, blasting a bunch of rubbers at the crowd is a pretty rad move toward encouraging kids to have safe sex. On the other hand, though, Ke$ha's glittery, slimy face isn't the most enticing sight when you're getting ready to get it on.
Here are four other musicians with mugs you don't want to see on your condom.
Wayne Coyne, of the Liberty Hall-bound Flaming Lips, just wants your full attention
Dancefestopia, a hip-hop and pop-oriented festival, arrives this weekend
Summer 2012 music concerts
Music Forecast May 31-June 6: DJ Ozgood, Blitzen Trapper, New Edition, Disney classics and more
The Rumblejetts' Jud Kite on drums, art and the band's latest, Motor Honey
Q&A: Eric Earley of Blitzen Trapper
Xiu Xiu's Jamie Stewart on art, human angst and naps
Joe Pug on touring, giving music away, and becoming an adult