The third item that I want to say is this, and oh God what a pretentious jerk I am for saying it: the best band at Coachella this year is one you have never heard of, and, given my three-point-five years of experience with musical taste at the Claremont Colleges, it’s one that you’re not going to like.   In fact, you’re going to hate them.  But, nonetheless, this article continues.

This was also before glasses like that were "hip."

And the band, the one I am trying to talk about, they probably wouldn’t care if you kept reading, in spite of any disclaimers.  The band is called REFUSED.  They are from Scandinavia.  They play hardcore punk music.  They last played a live show together in 1998, when you were still learning how to write cursive.  They only had three records, all coming in the early-to-mid-90s.  Their last album was recorded mere months before the band, like, broke up.  What, exactly, one could reasonably ask, is hardcore punk?  Let me explain this way: the band’s last days were documented in a film named after a song on the final record, lovingly titled “Refused are F**kin’ Dead,” and that song, boisterous as it may be titled, was followed-up on.  The band, at the time of their disintegration, sent out press releases ordering newspapers to burn (like, actual fire, this was before the 21st century, remember) all existing albums, photos, and articles about them, and to pretend as though they never existed.  This was, it is absolutely vital to note, less than three months after recording their final album, entitled, “The Shape of Punk to Come.”

Okay, one second here for good measure.  Let’s talk about punk music for just a moment.  Sometime in the late 1990s, this “fantastic” thing happened wherein major record labels (the very same ones who are supporting SOPA, by the way) realized that punk music could make them money.  And so they signed “pop-punk” bands.  Here we go, you’ve heard of this, right?  Like Blink-182, like Green Day, like, um, I can’t think of another.  But this was going on in the mid-90s.  And believe it or not, this whole “making money” part of “pop-punk” was, well, not at all what punk music was about.

Sure, there were punk bands that had successful followings, maybe some you’ve even listened to, like Dropkick Murphys or NOFX or Flogging Molly.  But, well, punk music by its very nature is AGAINST that whole making-money thing.  Depending on who you ask, The Ramones may or may not be the first-ever punk band.  Regardless of “first-ness,” Johnny Ramone did something pretty ridiculous with his simple power-chords: he destroyed the era of guitar-solo-worshipping classic rock like AC/DC, Led Zepplin, Hendrix, and Van Halen.  Maybe he didn’t want to play that kind of music.  The more likely story is that he simply wasn’t good enough at guitar.

And that, essentially, is what Punk is about.  Destroying things, subverting conventional music, being, well, pissed-off about the status-quo.  And in 1998, when “The Shape of Punk to Come,” one of the greatest albums ever made, was released, that very status-quo was poppy, three-chord, sing-along punk.  And REFUSED demolished it.

This album has the name of the four guys ON THE COVER. Makes one skeptical they didn't think it was at least a little awesome.

Another moment, and a deep breath for good measure, along with a quick plea to bear with me.  And in addition to that plea, being the kind of pseudo-intellectual-quasi-fanboy I am with this band, I want to ask you a question: back before the TV series, did you ever watch the movie “Friday Night Lights?”  Well guess what: you’ve already heard REFUSED, then.  This scene, for just a moment, plays this song, entitled “New Noise.”  It is the centerpiece of the album.  If you are still with me on this whole thing, follow this link on these words right here, and watch this entire thing, listen to the song.  It will be okay, it’s not that long, but just, like, please do it.  I’ll wait, don’t worry.  I’ll be right here.

Let’s talk about that song for a second.  What on earth is going on?  In five minutes, we get a sports-anthem caliber introduction, an electronic dance interlude, screaming vocals, dramatic-ish spoken word, synthesized/sampled crowd cheering, and finally and outro of the phrase, “the new beat” screamed well after the rest of the band is done playing.  Is this even punk?  The answer, if the album’s title is any indication, is “probably not.”  Though in the realm of hardcore music, such a statement may as well be damning.  Few kinds of music devote themselves to consuming and all-important taxonomies as those with screamed vocals.

The outcome of Refused’s album, at least for the band, was catastrophic.  The quartet engaged in a brief tour that ripped them apart, disbanding via aforementioned militaristic press release, moving onto other projects, some abandoning music, yet all, in interviews given years after the dissolution, giving a pretty definitive statement: the record was bad.  Or at least not good.  But something strange happened: just about everyone else in punk music completely disagreed.  A few years after its release, a host of “hardcore” bands, many of them spawning the “emo hardcore” branch of things, invaded Myspace and cited Refused as a huge influence.  They were covered by everyone from Paramore to Anthrax to Crazytown to Between the Buried and Me.

Now, due to some perfect storm of events, Refused are playing Friday evening at this year’s Coachella, getting billing just under The Black Keys and before The Shins.  Is this real life?  And furthermore, why would a band that began their magnum opus with a hearty “I’ve got a bone to pick with capitalism, and a few to break” reunite for one of the highest-grossing music festivals in the world?  The answer came in a press release on the group’s now-reactivated website:  ”We never did ‘the shape of punk to come’ justice back when it came out,” the band says.  ”We wanna do it over, do it right, for the people who’ve kept the music alive through the years.”

If I can find a ticket, I’ll be front-center.  And just maybe, “The New Beat” will return for good.

Fair to Midland, a quintet originating from Sulpher Springs, Texas, have outlived each and every one of these trends.  Initially formed in 1998, the band self-released two albums before being signed by a record label operated by System of a Down’s Serj Tankein, Serjical Strike Records.  The signing, which netted widespread distribution of Fables From a Mayfly, the band’s 2007 major label debut, granted them appearances with alt-rock titans such as Queens of the Stoneage, Smashing Pumpkins, and Muse.  Despite critical acclaim for the album (Sputnik Music even listing it as one of the top 100 albums of the 2000s), the band found themselves eventually displaced from the label and suddenly in creative and financial limbo.  With constant tour appearances, the band’s future seemed in question: Even for titans of alternative music, four years stood as a monumental waiting game for anxious fans, even as demo-recordings of a handful of tracks leaked to the internet.

The wait, as it turns out, was worth every second.  On July 12th, Fair to Midland released their fourth studio album, the triumphant Arrows and Anchors on E1 Records.  Boasting 15 tracks, including several of the group’s iconic interludes, the album is, without a doubt, the best release of 2011.  Fair to Midland’s sound has always been difficult to classify; it’s a combination of hard rock, ambient electronics, and shoegaze aesthetics.  On the album opener (spare for a brief organ introduction), the towering “Whisky and Ritalin,” the group turns a discordant intro into a danceable punk groove before launching to the stratosphere by showing off one of their signature melodic choruses.  Those unacquainted with modern hard rock should look no further for an introduction to the genre: no other band can write a hook that utilizes the elements of the genre with such refined skill.

Track-by-track, Arrows and Anchors holds its own quality-wise against any album of the last five years.  On lead single “Musical Chairs,” bassist Jon Dicken takes the band through a groove-oriented verse that offers just a small sample of his remarkable contributions to the band’s identity.  ”Amarillo Sleeps on my Pillow” (which can be downloaded for free from the band’s website) has guitarist Cliff Campbell wielding instruments typically reserved for country music, including a resonator and banjo, before launching into an unparalleled chorus of down-tuned syncopated guitars.  Drummer Brett Stowers’s off-beat rhythms on “Short-Haired Tornado” power into a chorus that would make Icelandic post-rock titans Sigur Ros jealous, and on the penultimate track, keyboardist Matt Langley powers a groovy synth line resting above some of the heaviest guitar work on the album.  Throughout, vocalist Darroh Sudderth makes a compelling argument for being the best vocalist in modern music, demonstrating tremendous range and dynamic ability, with stream-of-consciousness lyrics incorporating folksy sayings alongside vivid imagery.  But, just like in sports, it’s not the individual performances that matter, but those of the entire team, and Fair to Midland is peerless in this regard.  Never has the whole been this much greater than the sum of its parts.

The resulting record is immediately gripping and endlessly listenable, yet even in the face of such a record, Fair to Midland suffers from the ironic fate of being a band that can’t seem to break through to mainstream success purely because of how unique they are.  Attempts to describe the band in terms of other artists are futile: Fair to Midland simply ARE Fair to Midland.  It is here, however, that one of the band’s other remarkable strengths comes into play (no pun intended).

The modern musician has at his/her disposal a literal arsenal of tools to keep in touch with their fans.  Facebook and Twitter enable even the prolific likes of Kanye West and Lady Gaga to network directly with fans, and while Fair to Midland makes use of Facebook, a band that’s been around since 1998 has a few other electronic tricks up their sleeves.  Back in the younger days of the Internet, bands frequently set up online forums to pass news to fans and to unite them under a single banner in the form of street teams.  While this tradition has, for the most part, gone by the wayside, Fair to Midland’s fan community remains vibrant and strong, with a street team spreading word of the group all over the United States, Europe, and rest of the world.  Fair to Midland’s forum is even moderated by a member of the band, Stowers, and frequently is used as a way to foster dialogue from performers to enthusiasts and vice versa.

For all that electronic presence, nothing can truly compare to face-to-face interaction, and no other band offers such care for their fans.  At a typical Fair to Midland concert, the band members can be found mingling outside the venue, taking photos and excitedly signing merchandise for those there to watch them play.  The personality comes across in live shows with exuberant theatrics and from, it should be said, being proper human beings in general.  Many artists (Kings of Leon notoriously come to mind) find their careers catapulted into the spotlight, only to lose touch with their suddenly massive fanbase.  For these fellows from Texas, the give-and-take with this fanbase has always been an elemental part of their identity and success.  It very well could be the old adage, don’t forget where you came from.  Fair to Midland has not forgotten.  As the band prepares for a European tour to close out a momentous year with future domestic tour dates around the corner, 2012 could be their time to shine, and shine they deserve.  If ever an act had paid their dues to the open road, it would be these boys, with a folksy sentiment not often seen in contemporary music.

Want more music from Dan Evans? Check out his 3 part series on can rap be saved? Here is part one, two and three.

Let me tell you, writing about successful music artists who are also younger than you is a trip.

Haven’t heard of him?  Or rather, haven’t heard of the Los-Angeles rap collective ODD FUTURE WOLF GANG KILL THEM ALL?  They’re probably not going to be your cup of tea.  The group, which consists of names that seem to have a harmonic effect on the “blogosphere,” consists of a handful of Los Angeles kids who are probably younger than you.  There’s Tyler the Creator, born Tyler Okonma, the lanky producer and ringleader with a reputation for being notoriously goofy in interviews.  There’s Earl Sweatshirt, who’s not even old enough to vote yet, and for reasons that have been left utterly up for speculation, seems to have disappeared from the face of the earth.  There’s Frank Ocean, taking on the role of crooner, and making perhaps the most accessible music in the group.  The rest of the group requires a Wikipedia check to list out:  Hodgey Beats, Domo Genesis, Mike G, Syd the Kid, Left Brain, Matt Martians, Jasper Dolphin, and Taco.  They’re not all rappers, or even musicians, mind you.  Jasper Dolphin is credited as being the group’s “skateboarder,” Martians does graphic design, Taco makes music videos.  The group records their music in a room at Taco’s house, known as the Wolf Lair.  And it prompts the question: why should anyone care?

Here’s why.  ODD FUTURE WOLF GANG KILL THEM ALL (a name it is only possible to write in bold and all-caps) are going to be huge.  These are 16-21 year old kids, Los Angeles skateboarders, and for the last year and half, they’ve done nothing but give away music for free.  It’s an endeavor that grew a cult-like following, and one that ultimately prompted Sony’s RED music branch to give them their own record label, Odd Future Records.  They’ve got a TV show in the works for Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim, they’ve performed at Coachella and soon at England’s Reading festival, they’ve been on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, they’ve been interviewed by the New York Times, they’ve been live on the BBC.  And all of this in the span of less than two months.

So what’s the buzz about then?  It’s about this.  If you’re squeamish, do yourself a favor and click the links in the parentheses instead.  They make heavy grinding beats, they rap about rape, violence, psychiatrists, and Jesus.  Their biggest break yet came with the release of the music video for “Yonkers,” the first single off Tyler the Creator’s new album, Goblin. (Non-Music Video)  The video, shot in shaky black and white with a camera experiencing serious ADD, depicts Tyler, in order, eating a cockroach, throwing up, removing his clothes, and hanging himself.  Oh, then there’s the video for Earl Sweatshirt’s song “Earl,” which, again in order, has the whole of ODD FUTURE WOLF GANG KILL THEM ALL mixing pills, weed, malt liquor and other items into a blender, mixing it, drinking it, and then skateboarding while bleeding from their noses, nipples, mouths, and losing teeth.  (Again, just the song)  Okay, so now we need a new question: what on earth is going on here, and who in the right mind would give these guys a record deal?

There will be many more magazine covers in these guys' future. Or should we say "Odd Future?" Har Har Har.

The answer to that question could, very well, be expounded upon in a three-part blog article.  But in its essence, it can be boiled down to this: It’s raw.  It’s angry, jaded, and off-the-wall, and it’s what has been missing from rap music.  It’s like the 1990s all over again: hardcore rap music, with questionable production values, controversial content, the whole nine yards.  All that comes nicely to a head on Tyler’s latest work, Goblin. Kanye West might have explored his own psyche on his most recent musical album, but it happens to be that Tyler’s id, ego, and superego are a bit darker.  Some sample lyrics: “I’ll stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn esophagus,” “I’m not gay, I just want to boogie to some Marvin,” and (perhaps most worrying for me), “I’m stabbing any blogging [bad word] hipster with a Pitchfork.”  And those are all from the same song.  Tyler and company have gotten the genre-tag of “horrorcore,” which means exactly what it sounds like, but the group, fittingly, insists they’re just making rap music.  Maybe it boils down to a matter of taste if you appreciate what ODD FUTURE WOLF GANG KILL THEM ALL are doing here, but there’s one thing that can be said: no artist with a major-label deal could even dream of saying something like this.  And what’s more: these punks are making the most of their creative freedom, and by god they’re getting famous doing it.

So maybe that’s what’s in store for rap: a lack of self-censorship, and the ability to do pretty much whatever.  Their business model (Goblin is the first record that the group will be charging for, and while I have the leaked version now, count me first in line to financially support them) is startlingly indie-rock, and harkens back to the days in the late 1980s when Fugazi never charged more than 5 dollars for a concert ticket when they easily could have charged $20.  If ODD FUTURE WOLF GANG KILL THEM ALL isn’t your scene, there’s other great independent rap artists out there, too, and a lot of them are similarly giving their music away for free.  Childish Gambino (who I am contractually obligated to say is Community actor Donald Glover) raps about sexual escapades that will put anything that happened at Slippery When Wet to shame.  Das Racist (who recently performed at Pitzer College) raps about smoking weed, and then about smoking weed some more.

The bottom line?  Perhaps rap music is about to hit its “indie” phase.  There’s a plethora ($10 word, check) of great independent artists that are basically giving their music away for free.  So get out there on the big scary interweb, read hip blogs, and find good music.  If rap can be saved (if it even needs saving), then it’s going to take a team effort between you and people like Tyler the Creator, and what better friend could you ask for than this man.

I have no idea how this joke never gets old.

It’s hard being Kanye West.  Sure, West is one of the most successful recording artists of the last decade.  He’s had countless successful singles, his music has been hailed as genius by critics from all corners of the musical world, and his career as a superstar has blossomed from a humble producer to one of the most easily recognized rappers of the 21^st century.  But in September of 2009, Kanye West was none of these things.  He was, as President Barack Obama not-so-subtly put it, a “jackass.” West had just stolen the microphone from Taylor Swift at the 2009 MTV Music Video Awards, insisting that her video for “You Belong with Me” was nothing compared to “one of the best videos of all time,” “All the Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)” by R&B star Beyoncé.  West was ridiculed, and it wasn’t the first time in his tumultuous career, either.  With everyone from news pundits to Doritos-stained internet curmudgeons chastising him for his arrogance, Kanye West did something that Kanye West does not do well: he stepped out of the limelight.

The numerous apologies, interviews, and analysis that followed seemed to take its toll on him.  Kanye, who started his rise to stardom making beats on Jay-Z’s 2001 album The Blueprint, took to an exciting new medium to interact with his increasingly ostracized fan base.  Twitter provided West a way to do something no other platform provided, and the rapper used the website with force, interacting directly with his fans, broadcasting his thoughts to the internet-at-large.  It also set off a period of introspection for him, as the line between his artistic persona and personal life had become utterly indistinguishable.  He started listening to Bon Iver, he started taking to heart the story of Gil-Scott Herron, and he started to promote independent rock bands on his website.  West, who began to say in interviews that he liked indie rock more than modern hip-hop, posted MP3s and videos to up-and-coming artists on his website.  And then, to everyone’s surprise, he started giving away his own music.  The steady stream of songs only piqued interest for what would become 2010’s My Beautiful, Dark, Twisted Fantasy.

And fantasy it is.  Perhaps no other rapper could have pulled this type of shtick off.  With a grandiose flair and an ego-centric bent, the album isn’t so much a celebration of Kanye’s larger-than-life persona as a deconstruction of it.  West references his chastising following the Swift incident and responds with a cynical, yet pointed diatribe against himself. But beyond the self-deprecation and bitterness, the record is head-turning for its sheer vision.  Never has rap sounded like this before, with countless symphonic flourishes and detours meshing hand-in-hand with heavy post-production on Kanye’s own voice.  It’s rap music made to be performed by a chamber orchestra orbiting earth itself.

In spite of it’s remarkable accomplishments, My Beautiful, Dark, Twisted Fantasy wasn’t so much the bread-and-butter of 2010’s remarkable year for rap music as it was the crowning jewel.  West might have cranked out the most memorable rap album of the year, but it was hardly the only shining star from the genre.  No single year in recent memory provided a more successful outpouring of music from the most recognized names in the business.

The impressive roster reads like a who’s-who of rap’s undeniable titans.  Earlier in 2010, divisive MC Eminem gave us Recovery.  It was a record that not only made the ageing rapper relevant to pop music after many considered his career to be over, it also showcased a true high for his lyrical sensibilities.  The intensity and anger on Recovery came through in a tour-de-force for Marshall Mathers, perhaps only slightly hampered by the replay value radio stations found in singles like “Not Afraid” and “Love the Way You Lie.”  West may have been the emperor of the genre, but Eminem emerged as the comeback kid.

And it continues: Big Boi, who was previously only mentioned in tangent as the “lesser” half of Atlanta rap duo Outkast, released an album bubbling at the seams with original beats.  Sir Lucious Leftfoot: The Son of Chico Dusty stood as a celebration of the genre’s highs on tracks like “Shutterbug.” The Roots, who became a household name thanks to their gig on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, brought their jam-session inspired brand of hip hop to a natural high on How I Got Over.  Similarly surprising was a new record from Nas, in collaboration with genetically-enhanced reggae artist Damian Marley.  The duo, whose Distant Relatives drew inspiration from African and Cuban music, offered up a complex and shape-shifting record that managed to find the middle ground in their individual styles.

Yet, in spite of the staggering amount of innovation from these artists, a peculiar trend begins to emerge upon a closer inspection: the vast differences between these records and the radio-hits of the year.  While some of the albums produced successful singles, they were far removed from the vast majority of rap music getting airplay in 2010.  Only Eminem managed to snag the coveted #1 spot on the Billboard music charts.  Conversely, the peak of the chart was dominated by new talent, most often from Atlantic Records (you may remember them from the last article).  Bruno Mars, B.o.B, and Usher all held the spot for extended periods during the calendar year thanks to aggressive radio campaigns.

It’s a clear contrast, one that speaks volumes about the damaging impact of this type of industry-based music production.  2010 sported the biggest names in rap music putting out some of their best records.  But these records were, in turn, notable for their respective departures from what has become the cut-and-dry standard for modern rap music.  The artistic merit in a song like West’s “Runaway” can be easily identified even by someone who dislikes the song, whereas a single like “OMG” by Usher perhaps nets enough money for a record company to justify any lack of artistic merit.

Vampire Weekend, seen sticking it to the man in this rare photo.

An interesting point, brought up in a comment on the previous article, was whether or not a record company should be required to hold onto acts that are less profitable in their business model.  It’s a compelling objection, but one that raises additional questions when looking at successful records from 2010 across different musical genres.  Amongst the best-selling rock records for the year was Muse’s The Resistance, a sprawling concept album produced by members of the band.  Radiohead’s The King of Limbs climbed to the number 1 spot for 2 weeks following it’s self-release in early 2011.  Similarly, Lady Antebellum achieved great success with Need You Now, another band-generated album.  Perhaps most damning is a statistic from Billboard: of the 16 number 1 singles in 2010, only 6 did not use autotune.  Vampire Weekend, ironically, offers the most damning criticism of the business-then-music attitude that has become dominant in the production of rap.  The Ivy-league quartet plays an utterly distinctive brand of ethnically-influenced indie rock, yet had one of the best-selling rock albums of the year.  Innovative acts have the ability to succeed in other genres of music, but anything short of compliance to company production standards has the potential to derail rap artists in contract-compliance hell.

It poses an interesting question about rap, a genre that has felt the strain of pop sensibility encroach into the recording studio.  If artists are limited in their creative options for success, a sell-out culture that has permeated rap production takes over the music as whole.  Perhaps this is good for business.  Perhaps this is not the fault of the record companies so much as listeners, who feed the radio monster with demands for “bad” music.  But for artists so closely-entwined with rap’s success in the 2000s to make a steady retreat away from more commercially viable music must stand as a troubling sign for those who appreciate the genre itself.

Lupe announced his next album, a three-disc record that would, puzzlingly, be his last.  The Lup E.N.D., he dubbed it in 2008, when his plan was unveiled.  Yet almost immediately, the story changed.  Lupe announced the final project would be postponed indefinitely, replaced by albums released in 2009 and 2010. Lasers, the first of these new records, was announced in July of 2009, for fourth quarter release in the same year. The first single from the record dropped on July 7.

But then, something happened. Atlantic Records delayed the release of the record, pushing back the date to the spring of 2010 – then even further. During the entire stretch, Lupe toured extensively, including bringing us an energy-packed performance at our own Claremont Colleges. Lupe’s knack for entertainment was bolstered by a larger-than-life stage performance. Students lucky enough to attend the show at the Big Bridges Auditorium were treated to a live-band set-up (Guitar, Drums, and DJ) and a great opening act in the form of Atlanta’s now-famous B.o.B (but more on him later). While Lupe’s life act was turning heads, things with the record label gradually broke down. Fans protested in an online petition for the album’s release, while Lupe found other projects, which included playing in a punk band called Japanese Cartoon. On October 15, 2010, Lupe and his fans staged a protest outside the New York City headquarters of Atlantic Records, who finally agreed to release the album on March 8, 2011.

Yet even before this, Lupe Fiasco sat down with a reporter from Complex, an online music magazine, for one of the most puzzling interviews of the year. Titled “Interview: Lupe Fiasco Hates His Own Album,” the resulting article stunned fans and music critics alike. Lupe bemoaned the interminable recording sessions that went into Lasers. Record executives refused to release the album entirely if he didn’t complete several songs written by Atlantic’s producers. These songs included “Show Goes On,” the new first single from the record, and a duet with John Legend (another performance alumnus of the Claremont Colleges). These sessions, part of Lupe’s contractual obligations to Atlantic, were demanded by the record executives in a process that exhausted and jaded the rapper. “At that point, I was just drained. I was like, ‘Whatever. Another song, another day, another dollar,’” he told Complex. And this was the record his loyal fans finally received.

It’s a story that’s been oft-repeated in the halls of the rap industry. Up-and-comers like B.o.B and Bruno Mars found themselves similarly cornered by the executives who saw dollar signs when the young men presented radio-friendly sounds to their record supervisors. Sure, Jay-Z called for the “Death of Auto-Tune” on his most recent album, but the clichéd recording device has become a staple of the major pop radio radio.

A single listen to the DJ’s playlist at a Claremont Colleges party reveals, in part, the growing divide in rap music. Rap is a genre that thrives off of mainstream success, with little room for “indie” artists to find the same audience as their big-league counterparts. A successful rap artist can be one of the best money-making devices for a record label. No genre allows for guest-spots and the all-too-common “featuring” tag more easily, both things that rake in extra royalties. Hell, Snoop Dog even appeared on a Katy Perry track. If a rap artist wants to be successful and to get their music to a large audience, this means surrendering artistic control to corporate producers and label executives. In the same interview mentioned above, Lupe stated he was offered the instrumental tracks to B.o.B’s “Airplanes” single by Atlantic to be a part of “Lasers.” The songs that gain notoriety (and thus plays at a TNC) are the songs with aggressive radio campaigns behind them.

With no choice but to “sell-out” to make it big, rap now suffers an identity crisis. A handful of established artists continue to draw sales numbers from their efforts, but the continued search for “the next big thing” has resulted in a diluted version of rap music that gets spun by radio stations and student DJs alike. At the same time, “indie” rap has begun to formulate much in the way underground rock music came to fruition in the 1990s. If names like Eminem, Lil’ Wayne, and Kanye West make you nod your head in appreciation, or if names like Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Em All, Pharoahe Monch, and Akir intrigue you, stay tuned for two more articles on the current status of rap music.

According to Dr. Ryan Jefferson, the head of the AHI and owner of an all-organic vegan restaurant/bike shop, the root of the problem can be traced back to a recent musical release by Sleigh Bells, a newcomer to the world of indie music.  “In Sleigh Bells, we really have a perfect storm for this kind of condition,” explained Jefferson.  “You’ve got great beats, taken almost straight out of a lot of clubbing music.  But at the same time you have really fuzzed-out guitars.  By the time those sassy female vocals come in, we’re seeing a lot of folks already tapping their feet.”

Miller, left, and Krauss could be endangering young people with their debut album "Treats."

The Brooklyn-based duo consists of Derek Miller, formerly of screamo band Poison the Well, and Alexis Krauss, who played in the less-well known RubyBlue in addition to a job as a public school teacher.  Early demo CDs captured the attention of club music superstar M.I.A., who collaborated with Miller to produce a full-length record.  Their debut album, “Treats,” gained remarkably positive reviews, including a “Best New Music” award from Pitchfork, a favorable review in Rolling Stone Magazine, and a Metacritic score of 84.  Its catchy sound, readily apparent in tracks like “Crown on the Ground” and “Tell ‘Em,” has caused word of the band to spread quickly across the country, mostly passing between friends.

“At first I thought it was an unreleased Ratatat remix when my friend Rob played it for me,” said Mike Anderson, a Santa Monica, California native and art student.  “But then he told me they were this new underground thing.  I sure hope it stays this way.”

Other reports are far more alarming.  At a recent Sleigh Bells concert in Cleveland, Ohio, three people were injured while dancing to the band’s high-energy live performance.  In an interview with Billboard.com, Krauss even stated that “we want to create an atmosphere that is just fun and energetic and just encourages mayhem and lots of dancing.”  With this type of sentiment coming from the band,

The AHI fears that repeated exposure to Sleigh Bells debut release can trigger outward expression of enjoyment to music, jeopardizing the individual’s ability to smugly drink Pabst Blue Ribbon at concerts or other social settings.  In order to prevent this type of condition from occurring to you or to someone you know, it is recommended that the affected person be taken away from any Sleigh Bells recording and instead listen to Neil Young on vinyl while smoking American Spirits.  A quick fixed-gear bike ride is also strongly recommended.

Their vision, which was presented at the Forum’s Idea Night earlier this semester, involves the creation of a new student committee to aid in facilitating student ideas for campus changes. The Improvements and Projects Action Committee (IPAC) would be comprised of as many as 15 students and capable of reaching a variety of groups on campus, opening up a new system of bidirectional communication between student representatives and the student body.  Members would be chosen through an application process, ideally in cooperation with the Dean of Students Office and ASCMC members.

“This plan was born out of the idea that sometimes there are only a finite number of positions at the school for a vast number of people who are interested in helping the community,” said Kraus, who ran unsuccessfully for ASCMC President in the most recent round of student body elections.

Eric Scott '11 and Ben Kraus '11 presented their proposal for IPAC to a captivated audience at Idea Night in March.

Such projects would range in size and scale, but Kraus stressed that the goal of the committee would be to give the student body incentives to submit ideas for changes on campus.  Via a portal posted on an independent website (perhaps on the Forum itself, said Kraus), all members of the student body would be able to submit proposals to the committee, which would in turn take steps to implement the good ideas with funding from DOS or ASCMC.  According to Kraus and Scott, such ideas include high pressure shower heads in all the dorms and coffee in study lounges.

“Ben lobbied to get new TVs in the Hub, and there’s nothing stopping [these changes] from occurring, but [we want] something institutionalized to make sure there’s that type of change happening at all times,” said Scott.

But several obstacles remain between their idea and the committee’s implementation.  For IPAC to become a part of the existing ASCMC institution, the ASCMC Constitution needs to be amended.  Additionally, Kraus and Scott admit there are potential overlaps with the duties of the ASCMC Senate, but they believe this problem would be fixed by having either the ASCMC Vice President or President pro tempore sit on the committee.

Kraus and Scott have met repeatedly with ASCMC President Tammy Phan and Vice President Chris Jones to flesh out their plan and work towards its implementation.  Ideally the committee would be situated under the Dean of Students Office and would not function as a direct part of ASCMC, making it free from constitutional issues and other ASCMC limitations.

The student government has yet to form a cohesive position on the proposal, and has withheld from giving a full-fledged endorsement. ASCMC Vice President Chris Jones stated that the issue was being discussed by ASCMC, and offered some insight into its future:  “One of the things we thought was crucial was making sure someone who was a representative with a connection to Senate would be on board,” said Jones.  “[We want to] figure out where situations overlap, working together and combining forces when applicable.”

ASCMC President Tammy Phan said of IPAC, “I support student efforts to improve our campus and I look forward to what will come from the committee. It’s important for CMCers to work together in order to change our school for the better.”

Pomona's Walker Wall, the College's only "free" space for graffiti work, has been subjected to two conflicting visions this past week.

And so it is with our story today, the case of the Walker Wall Vandalism. For those of you unfamiliar with the setting for our story, Walker Wall is the south-facing stone wall that surrounds a grassy courtyard near Frary Dining Hall. On the street-facing outside, it’s a shade of unassuming slate gray. But like so many things in life, it’s what’s inside that counts. Student organizations from all campuses use the interior of the wall as a canvas, advertising for events or sending messages to the student body. But it’s not just for student organizations. Walker Wall has become a symbol of free speech: any student in possession of some paint and a good idea is allowed to put something on the wall, presumably. Obviously there’s an unspoken code of conduct: don’t paint over someone else’s stuff, unless it’s really old. Students, for the most part, respect said code.

It was on a fine spring day not too long ago that one such student group, the Queer Resources Center, utilized Walker Wall to kick off a month’s worth of activities and seminars for Gaypril. The QRC spent a solid two days painting a bright rainbow down the length of the wall. The painting of the rainbow, which has been QRC Gaypril tradition for some time, required an extensive amount of effort and work on the part of the QRC staff and members. In 2009, the rainbow remained untouched for many months on the wall, brightening the courtyard and raising awareness on behalf of the QRC.

Yet the 2010 rainbow found its unadulterated tenure cut short. On the morning of April 4th, the wall, including the rainbow, was found ransacked by a host of crudely-scrawled phrases: many of them banal, many of them offensive.  Red plastic cups and painting paraphernalia littered the quad.

The QRC reacted quickly. It was then I was contacted by Caitlin Feeney of the QRC, asking that the CMC Forum become involved in the investigation. An email sent out by QRC made it clear that those who were responsible would pay for their vandalism:

It is not the responsibility of the queer community to repaint the wall and sweep this incident under the rug. If Claremont becomes unsafe for certain groups, hiding it will not help. If there is going to be any event in response to this, the QRC—busy with its own events this April—does not want to expend time and resources doing damage control. We demand that the perpetrators of this vandalism accept responsibility and respond with action. (Read the full text here.)

Who is to blame for such things? Were the perpetrators Pomona Students, CMCers, or perhaps those troublesome Westies from Harvey Mudd? The Claremont Colleges are all too familiar with graffiti-related controversy. Lest we forget the dire incident in the spring of 2009 when some unknown outlaw scrawled “Scissor Me Scrippsies” and “Dick-tation” on the asphalt near the Motley to the View coffee shop. Could those culprits have struck again?  It seemed as though the case had gone cold.

But then the Forum, utilizing its contacts in the 5C underworld, came across a magnificent discovery: the perps had apologized! Not only had they apologized, but they had actually sent an email intended to ameliorate the situation before the QRC issued its email condemnation of the night’s crimes. They wrote a lengthy email regarding the incident, still while remaining anonymous. Leaders of Bev Scavvy claim that instead of a maliciously-intended attack on the QRC and “other” groups on campus, the incident was simply a misunderstanding during the Bev Scavvy, a hilarious night of 5C debauchery organized by a shadowy, nameless group of students. They offered forth this explanation of events:

We understand that many of those associated with the QRC—and many supportive students from around the Claremont Colleges more generally—were both sad and angry to find that the Rainbow flag only recently painted on Walker Wall had apparently been defaced over night.  Although at this point the writing has already been done, we would like to make it clear that none of it was in any way directed at or related to the QRC, Gaypril or the queer community of the Claremont Colleges.  The writing occurred specifically because of one of the clues on the scavenger hunt list, which asked students to find, make, and do certain things throughout the Claremont Colleges and the surrounding area.  The clue in question read: “Your team’s name, written as large and indelibly as possible on Walker Wall.”  Teams chose team names prior to receiving the list of clues (prior to finding out that they would be writing these names on Walker Wall), as we required teams to choose names in order to register for the event. (Read the full text here.)

Mind you, this solitary paragraph was just one of the lengthy apology sent to the QRC earlier this week by the anonymous organizers. The homophobic, sexist, and racist slurs scrawled upon the wall? Those were the names the students had given their teams.

If this situation were as simple as it appears, it would seem logical that the organizers of the Bev Scavvy would come forward and reveal their true identities. Unfortunately, Pomona’s tyrannical drinking policy doesn’t permit such events. Their rule-enforcing body has taken a harsh stance on organizers in previous years even though alcohol consumption is only optional. (Several years ago, one of the clues was to find a receipt for $0.47. When Pomona learned of this, it searched through Coop store transactions in order to fine everyone who had rung up a $.47 transaction that night.)

The situation seems to be an unfortunate misunderstanding. Sure, everybody makes mistakes, but just because you issue forth a glowing, heartfelt apology doesn’t mean that those offended will have to accept it.  Questions remain to be answered: Did the QRC overreact to the innocent scribbles of college students? Will the anonymous perps be forced to come forward for this vandalism? Will the QRC accept this apology? Will the rainbow be fixed by well-intentioned students? Can you really vandalize a graffiti wall?

The allegations, which were generated primarily on a series of comic blogs and quickly spread via sites like Reddit and Digg, could bring legal action against both Radical Comics and Simmons himself.  Incarnate, according to a summary that (until today) was published on Radical’s website, is billed as an action-horror type adventure.  Perhaps you’ll enjoy this little gem as much as I did:

They cannot die.  They feel no pain.  They hunger for human flesh.  They are Revenants.  Centuries ago, the Revenant known as Mot was worshipped as a God.  Now, he walks the Earth in search of a purpose to his immortality= but when a secret society discovers a way to kill Revenants, Mot and his fellow immortals must make a choice: hunt or be hunted.  Nick Simmons’ breakout American Manga title reveals a world that challenges even the imagination, planting its tongue firmly in cheek, then biting it off. . . And swallowing it.

Of course, there’s only one problem with this whole idea: it’s not actually his.  Tite Kubo’s Bleach is one of the best-selling comics (or, if we are going to get technical, manga) in the world, selling over 52 million copies worldwide.  Bleach has spawned its own TV spin off, with video games, full-length animated movies, and extensive licensing deals.  The plot of Bleach revolves around Ichigo Kurosaki, a teenager who does battle with supernatural “Hollows” who consume people’s souls.  Oh, and there’s a secret society too– the Soul Society, that hunts the Hollows.

These similarities in plot, while a bit suspicious, aren’t enough to justify the postponement of the series, as Radical has done.  Comics frequently contain a number of these elements; with so many authors generating stories involving such stock elements as “the undead,” “secret societies,” and “angsty teenagers,” one comic is bound to to feel like a derivative of another.  Indeed, yesterday (March 1) Simmons released a statement in which he claimed similarities in the works were intended as “an homage to artists I respect.”

But the evidence of outright plagiarism continues to grow.  Image comparisons, such as this one on LiveJournal present some damning side-by-sides of panels from Kubo’s title, which is drawn in black  and white, and Simmons’s, which is in color.  As if that’s not enough, this article on Topless Robot links to several other galleries, and also includes some tremendously unflattering comments Simmons (or an impostor) made on a Facebook group accusing him of plagiarism, including one that reads “I never even heard of Bleach! Who would name a comic after laundry detergent?”  So much for that homage.

Greatest Rapper Alive?  You could make the case.  In terms of both quality and quantity, Wayne dominates his industry.  You want chart-topping singles?  Lil Wayne gave us just that with “Lollipop.”   You want underground cred?  A series of free mixtapes, including the recent No Ceilings, feature some of Wayne’s best verses.  You want show-stealing rhymes on other albums?  Weezy’s been featured on cuts by Jay-Z, Kanye, and Mike Jones.

You want Auto-Tuned vocals over 90s alt-metal influenced guitars? Um. . .

Well, regardless of whether or not you wanted it, Lil Wayne delivered Rebirth, something he’s been threatening for a while now.  Ever since the release of “Prom Queen,” this experiment have been both exciting and terrifying. Much of Rebirth is filled with the type of music one would never expect from Wayne.  Auto-Tuning is used liberally, likely to hide the fact that Wayne can’t really sing, and the guitars (which are mixed low in the speakers, likely to hide the fact that Wayne can’t really play guitar) grind over the top of nu-metal drums.  Bands like Korn and Linkin Park should hold their breath, as this sound could be coming back into style.  Most of the tracks lack anything resembling an actual identity.  It’s as if standard club anthems (that is, Auto-Tuned club anthems, as if there is a different sort these days) were noodled over on electric guitar.

Yet in spite being a trainwreck of a project, Weezy remains at the center, seemingly untouched by the noise all around him. After all, as Greatest Rapper Alive, much of his success has been built around the creation of a larger-than-life persona.  And in that regard, Rebirth is a triumph, a fantastic middle-finger to convention that exists purely because Lil Wayne possessed some sort of delusion that he is not only Greatest Rapper Alive but also a rock star.  As he said in an interview on the BBC recently, it’s determination that allows him to have the kind of success he’s experienced.

Despite dental surgery postponing his trip to prison by a short amount of time, we can still expect to hear plenty from Wheezy in the coming year. According to an article on MTV, Lil Wayne filmed a mind-blowing NINE music videos over this last weekend, with material from both Rebirth and the highly-anticipated follow-up to Tha Carter III, 2010′s Tha Carter IV. Even though Wayne will be behind bars, his music will live on, which is good news for rap fans. And seeing as Wayne doesn’t write down any of his verses, this could be a pretty remarkable gestation period for some great creative material. Perhaps his next move will be something revolutionary, perhaps a pairing of rap/R&B with a story line featuring twists around every turn? Let’s hope.