If you have seen “Rip!”, or you just kept reading like most people did (seriously. it’s free. go watch it), do you think the 1971 Bright Tunes Music v. Harrisongs lawsuit, in which George Harrison was sued for copyright infringement because the chord progression to “My Sweet Lord” is similar to the Chiffons’ “He’s So Fine,”would be settled differently today?

Let’s review.  Harrison’s classic tune:

is it just me, or do the Kelso hair and Yusuf Islam beard just not go together well?

Anyways, here’s the Chiffons:

The judge ruled against Harrison and he paid damages for copyright infringement.  I think it would be totally decided differently today – you don’t see Madonna suing Lady Gaga because “Born This Way” is similar to “Express Yourself” – and I think these two songs are just as similar as Harrison and the Chiffons.

What do you think?

How cool are they, you ask?  Let me show you.  This is a project I’ve been working on with one of my professors; he’s working on a documentary about how to make money in the music industry, and he sent me out into the wilderness with a camera to interview musicians about this topic.  I took the best interviews (for the record, the quality of the interviews was entirely based on the subjects – my interviewing skills are a work in progress) and edited them together in a series of video shorts.

The first episode features John Baldwin Gourley from Portugal. the Man and Dana Strum from Slaughter:

Dana and John had both just finished playing shows when I interviewed them.  One of my friends told me that I asked good questions but didn’t really reach any conclusions with this video.  I think that some of the points my subjects were trying to make were more implicit, so I figured that, as the filmmaker, my role was to spell it out for the viewer, and I did, via text, in the next episode, which features Joey Allen from Warrant and Chris Evans from the Hanna Barbarians:

Now it’s your turn.  What do you think of what these people said?  What are your opinions on these topics?  How is my editing?  What would you like to hear from musicians about this topic?  Do you have suggestions for other questions I might ask in future interviews?

Apparently, it began with Mike Nelson of MST3K fame (Hipster Ariel moment: I had a crush on him when I was like 13 – MSTie for life!) Tweeting about her monumentally awful music video.  Twenty billion retweets and 32 million YouTube views (and counting) later, and she’s an instant celebrity.  The kid is handling herself very well after being plunged headfirst into the internet celeb-iverse, which is understandable, as Forbes reported yesterday that she stands to make millions from the whole thing.  However, Rebecca herself isn’t what fascinates me.  I have become very curious about these people at Ark Music Factory who are responsible for writing, producing, and recording the song and video.

For those who don’t know, Ark Music Factory is run by a couple guys out of L.A. who give kids a shot at stardom – for a price.  Parents pay these people to write a song for their kid, record and produce the song, make a video, and put it on YouTube.  Rebecca’s parents reportedly forked over two grand for this package.  It’s kind of like a really fancy version of those karaoke booths at the mall where one could go in, record themselves singing to a backing track, and the machine would spit out a CD of the recorded song.  They rope the kids in with a “talent search”, then require parents to pay for their services.  Is it a scam?  No, it’s not.  It’s like sending a kid to camp or something – you pay for the experience of sending your kid out into the woods for a week so they can make memories.  In this case, the “woods” are the wilds of the industry.  Sure, it’s a crappy, badly produced, tamed-down version of the industry in which the child is virtually guaranteed to not get famous, but isn’t summer camp a crappy, badly produced, tamed-down version of outdoor survival?

I want to work in the industry someday, promoting music, making videos, everything these guys are doing (although I want to do it well, and not for junior high kids).  My point is, these guys are getting paid to do it.  People are willing to fork over money for this.  I am wondering: where did these guys at Ark go to school?  What software are they using?  How did they get their initial funding for the equipment they use to film?  How did they learn how to do what they do, and what made them decide upon this industry summer-camp thing as a viable way to make money?  I get the feeling that they’re total shuckster salesguys, but they’re GETTING PAID TO DO IT.  What does this say about the industry, the economy, and what people are willing to spend money on?

For all two of you who haven’t seen the video yet (I see you there under that rock!), here it is.  Please comment – I feel like there’s greater insight to be gleaned from this phenomenon.

I couldn’t get an internet connection yesterday, so a Day 2 recap wasn’t possible til now.  Friday’s goal was to film and interview the preternaturally talented Dan Hunter, aka Analog Rebellion (formerly PlayRadioPlay!).  I am not very familiar with indie music; before going to this festival, I asked my friend Mia , who has an encyclopedic knowledge of the topic, which bands I should see, and she recommended this act.  She played me a YouTube video of an experiment Dan did where he wrote and recorded a song within the span of a couple hours.  Not only is this an amazing feat in and of itself, the song is fantastic.  Onstage, Hunter’s sweet voice hides an underlying aggression that goes past the usual indie angst.  His stage presence reminds me a lot of a young Mike Graff.

I caught snippets of the Mondo Drag and Westboro Butchers shows, which both made me happy – the weepy indie nonsense of the past appears to be making way for music with muscle.  The show that impressed me the most from Day 2 was definitely Philadelphia’s Dr. Dog.  I didn’t expect much from a band that wears Where’s Waldo hats (a bit too twee, imho), they rocked much harder than I expected.

I left Denton at about ten, as I was completely exhausted.  Day 3 promised to be a big deal.  I arrived at three to attend a panel entitled “Monetizing Music in a Free Economy”, hosted by my professor, Nico.  The panel was comprised of Ryan Becker from RTB2, Trey Bowles of Trivate Entertainment, Chandler from All Jack’d Up, Joshua Jones of Shiner Records, Erv Karwelis of Idol Records, and Eric Pulido, the guitar player from Midlake.  We didn’t end up coming to an ultimate conclusion to the question of how to make money making music; I suppose that if anyone has the answer to that, they will become an instant millionaire, and seeing as everyone in the room is currently still toiling in the trenches, our goal was not reaching an answer, but rather, spurring discussion.

The first show I caught that evening was New Orleans transgender hip-hop artist Big Freedia.  Freedia put on what was easily one of the best shows of the entire festival, whipping the crowd into a frenzy with her unique brand of sissy bounce, complete with booty-shaking backup dancers and Mardi Gras beads raining into the audience.  Freedia is a colorful, gender-bending anomaly in the world of indie music.  Her imposing physique, army-issue camo pants, and beehive hairdo are a sight to behold, and her jubilantly raunchy lyrics had the crowd jumping and screaming along.  If you get a chance to catch Freedia in action, you won’t be disappointed.

After that, I headed to Sweetwater Bar & Grill, which hosted four metal bands in a row, so naturally I parked my ass there for the remainder of the evening.  Dallas’ own Baring Teeth played a dirge-y, dark set; in the words of Maleveller’s Brian Smith, they are amazing musicians.  Fellow Dallasites White Mountain (whose Facebook page is, for some reason, in Malay), rocked the house and made me realize that there’s really something to this hipster metal thing.  I highly doubt that Sweetwater had ever seen a mosh pit before, but the mighty Maleveller had all of us on the tiny patio headbanging away.  There’s a reason why I go to see this band whenever I can, and it’s not just to endure Brian Smith’s heckling about the time I called him paunchy on this here blog (Brian to his bass player: “That’s the girl who called me paunchy!” Me: “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”)  Somebody please sign this band.  They are tighter than ever, and they deserve to get hugely famous.

I’m in Denton right now, slogging through the last day of the festival and annoying the coffee shop employees with my repeated use of their internet and bathroom (coffee is a diuretic, okay??) after purchasing only a small coffee.  I’ll do a Day 4 recap, plus pictures and festival highlights and VIDEO, yes VIDEO, very soon.

I’m in Denton, Texas, right now, at the 35 Conferette.  This is my second day here, as an agent of the press.  I’m looking at this as my first professional grown-up journalist assignment.  I got the press pass and the camera from my professor, Nico Martini, who is filming a documentary about how to make money playing music in the age of free downloading.  My instructions were to film B-roll band footage and interviews.

I got here yesterday; it didn’t take me long to realize that wearing a press badge is AWESOME.  I immediately began showing it off to random people on the street (“they gave me a press badge!  isn’t that cool?!”), who didn’t appear as impressed with it as I was.  I feel like friggin’ Jimmy Olsen or something, and it’s awesome.

The first band I checked out were Violent Squid, who caught my attention because they were all dressed in OUTFITS.  The capitalization is necessary, as the band members’ getups were pretty epic.  The music was in the exuberant, drunk-hippie jam vein.  I think they were going for that Frank Zappa free-for-all sound.  I’m not sure if the music is really my thing, but I love any band that wears OUTFITS.

When I walked into the conference, I walked past the brilliant J. Paul Slavens, who complimented me on my outfit.  As I am wont to do, I totally missed the opportunity to interview him on camera.  I was kicking myself for the next hour, until I walked into a bar to film acoustic chanteuse Summer Ames, and there was Paul at the bar.  He was a fantastic interview subject – he gave thoughtful, lengthy answers to my questions, and, in accordance with Murphy’s law of journalism, I forgot to turn on the mic.  Grown-up professional journalist FAIL.

One of the highlights of the night was Thursday’s headliner, Mavis Staples.  Mavis has been singing for forty years, and she has a set of pipes on her – there’s so much bottom end on her voice, she sounded absolutely stunning.  She interacts with her audience in a way that made the outdoor stage seem so much more intimate.  At one point, Mavis commented on how many dudes she’d seen sporting beards (this is, after all, a hipster college town).  Out of nowhere, the guy next to me whipped off his shirt and threw it onstage.  We were all a little surprised, including Mavis, who chortled, “This is like what the ladies do to Tom Jones!”  She reached down and picked up the shirt, which read, “Keep Denton Beard”, complete with a picture of a bearded hipster.

The main band I wanted to see on Thursday was Whiskey Folk Ramblers, who I’ve known for some years; I figured I could get some good interview footage from them.  I whiled away the hours before they went on by going to random shows.  Pinebox Serenade were okay, but I think their formula is a little stale.  High-energy hip-hop act Anonymousculture were a refreshing break from the indie rock.  Anonymous’s music is available online for free; he’s about to release a new mixtape, so check out his site for more info and free stuff.  Mmmm…free stuff.

I ended my evening with the irrepressible Whiskey Folk Ramblers, the Dallas Observer’s 2010 winner for best roots/country act.  It’s so nice to see a band that’s worked as hard as they have, get the kind of press that they’re getting.  The boys have been busy this past year; they’ve released a new album, and they have a new guitarist, former AM Rambler Mark Moncrieff.  It’s been far too long since I went to a Ramblers show, and this was a good one.  I saw the Observer’s Pete Freedman running around in the crowd, so maybe we’ll see the Ramblers get more Observer love in the near future.

That’s it for Day One…more to come, as I’ve been a busy little bee during Day 2, and my goal is to blog every day during this conference.  It’s all about crankin’ out the content, and that’s what I’m here for.

During all this madness, I was at a bar located in a suburban strip mall with a couple of my buddies, going to see a band fronted by a friend of a friend.  ”You have to do a review of Dave’s band!” insisted my friend Joe.  Dave’s band is called, appropriately, Uncle Dave’s Rock Service.  Uncle Dave is a tall, bald guy who looks a little like Rick Nielsen; the particular service he provides to rock comes in the form of energetic pop-punk.  Uncle Dave and Joe know each other from their days together in a band called Orange Helicopter.  Dave is an odd duck, and he promotes himself as such, wearing goofy hats and bow ties; the entire band was clad in suits, except for the drummer.  I’ll get to her in a moment, though.

Uncle Dave’s brand of rock was more punkish than I would’ve expected when entering a bar in a strip mall in Richardson, Texas (birthplace of Jessica Simpson, which adds all the context that is necessary).  Dave has lots of energy, and I like his vocals, but the stage truly belonged to their drummer.  Magenta-haired April Samuels is fun to look at and fun to watch; she not only hits hard, she delivered the best stage banter of the night.  I love the rarity that is really talented girl drummers, and April delivers the goods.  She reminds me a lot of the incredible Miss Fortune of the Flametrick Subs.  As far as the music goes, Uncle Dave’s Rock Service reminds me a bit of Blink-182: sped-up and easily digestible.  I wasn’t challenged, but I was entertained.  We left during the closing act (some Motley Crue tribute mess – their backup dancer tried to hit on me by pointing her derriere in my direction and yelling, “Grab my butt!”  Errr…no.)

So there you have it.  I swear I’m going to get off my ass and blog more often (it’s been, what, three months since my last entry?).  Please post a comment if you can think of a clever response to a trashy Motley Crue tribute band backup dancer’s demand that I grab her butt.  I couldn’t think of anything better than simply running in fear.

They may be young, but the Ramblers are serious about their roots.  They’re also serious about their future: their new album, “…And There Are Devils”, drops this month, and they’re celebrating on both sides of the county line.  If you happen to enjoy good music and fun shows (and who doesn’t?), you should be at one of these.  Both shows are all ages.

The Dallas show is on Saturday, May 29th at the Granada Theater.  Doors are at 7, show starts at 8; the Ramblers play second, with Stu Dicious opening, the Monco Poncho playing post-Ramblers, and DFW stalwart Salim Nourallah closing out the evening.  Tickets to that show are $10.

Their Fort Worth show is on Friday, June 4th at Lola’s 6th St.  Doors are at 9, show starts at 10; Salim Nourallah is a guest at this gig as well.  Tickets to this show are $6 for 21+ and $9 for 18+.

Your gift for today is the closest thing to a music video they’ve done, for a ridiculously catchy tune called “River Song”.  Enjoy.

Bill Staines certainly fits the bill.  A product of the Cambridge folk music scene of the 1960s, Staines has recorded 22 albums and has been touring the country, mostly New England and the northern states, for 40 years.  He plays coffeehouses and folk festivals, logging tens of thousands of touring miles per year, for the love of his art.

No one I know has ever heard of Bill Staines; most of my friends are into hard rock and punk, and have no time for a troubadour with an acoustic axe.  I, on the other hand, grew up with Staines’ music.  My parents had a couple of his albums, which we would always listen to on road trips.  Now that I’m in a country music band, I went back to Staines’ catalogue for inspiration, and rediscovered his flawlessly executed melodies and soulful lyrics that tell tales of America, the land and people, past and present.  Touring is in Staines’ blood, and he writes great road songs; some of my favorite Staines tunes are about truckers, trappers, miners, and other restless pioneers who make their living in the wild outdoors.

My favorite Staines album is 1979′s “Whistle of the Jay”, which is full of such songs, and is great to play on road trips.  The album begins with “Missouri Road Song”, an infectious tune about traveling cross-country, in which Staines anthropomorphizes the landscape of Middle America, bringing a sunrise over midwestern cornfields to life. “Roseville Fair” is a sweet two-step about a small-town girl; as far as I know, this is one of Staines’ better known songs.  The third track, “Ol’ Jack”, is an ode to a poor farm family’s hardworking donkey, which as a metaphor for the quiet nobility of the American farmer.  ”Joli Girl” is sweet and quiet, another song about small-town love.  ”Henri LeBlanc” was one of my favorites as a kid; the title character in this fast-paced, minor key ballad is a French-Canadian fur trapper who revels in the hard life he leads.  ”The Rivers of Texas” is an old standard which has been covered by Lyle Lovett and Townes Van Zandt as well as Staines.  ”Lover’s Waltz” is an instrumental which showcases the left-handed Staines’ formidable fingerpicking skills; he plays his right-handed acoustic guitar upside down.  ”Logging Song” is a boot-stomping banjo romp about hauling timber on Lake Superior; “Piney River Girl”, which is one of the first songs I learned how to play on the guitar, is a lovely ode to the Blue Ridge mountains.  ”A Cowboy’s Hard Times” is pure old-school Appalachian country-roots, and the aptly named “Jubilee” would be perfectly suited to a back-country dance.  ”Mexico Way” is a soulful drifting love song.  ”A Place in the Choir” is probably the reason why my parents played us the album in the first place; it’s a fantastically fun sing-along about all God’s critters, with irrepressible rhyming styles and a carefree lyrical bent. “River”, the final song on the album, was always my favorite song as a kid; I knew every word of this rolling, drifting track, in which the melody perfectly mimics the flowing river in the song.

The recording on this album is pretty low-tech; there’s no drums, just Staines and his guitar and banjo, with a fiddle thrown in the mix on a few tracks.  Staines’ songwriting is absolutely formidable, rising above any technical inconsistencies and drawing the full flavor of back-country Americana through every track.

Staines has recorded other great albums – “Tracks and Trails”, “Bridges”, and “Sandstone Cathedral” are all masterpieces in their own right.  He’s had three greatest-hits compilations, plus “The Alaska Suite”, an instrumental suite performed by a 15-piece orchestra.  His last album, “Old Dogs”, was recorded in 2007; Staines continues to tour, and, although he mostly visits locations up North, he’s coming to Austin on June 2nd or 3rd (his website has the date TBA), and I’m gonna try and do a road trip to go see him.

Your gift for today is “River”, my favorite song from when I was about six years old.  This song displays why people who have heard of him, rank Bill Staines up with Woody Guthrie, Bob Dylan, and Joan Baez as one of the greatest folk songwriters of all time.

In real life, Steele was a meathead metal guy from Brooklyn who formed Type O with a bunch of other meathead metal guys; they figured out early on that they had a knack for writing the kind of spooky, effects-laden anthems that make goth girls weak in the knees.  The music wasn’t challenging, but, since it was delivered with tongue firmly in cheek, Type O’s take on gothic doom and gloom was lots of fun in spite of itself.  The reasoning behind guys liking Type O escaped me until I realized that meathead metal guys recognized Steele as one of their own.  Video footage of the band’s backstage antics reveal a bunch of overgrown adolescents whose collective sense of humor is succinctly scatological.  Type O were not like the preening egomaniacs of the hair-metal days; they liked to drink beer, bash their heads together, and deliver the kind of stupid toilet jokes that are the result of mixing boredom and testosterone.

Pete died the other day, of heart failure, at the age of 48.  In past years, he drank a lot and used a lot of drugs; his death appears to be the result of hard living.  It made me kind of sad, because he was taller than me when I wear my special heels (I’m 6’2″ when I wear them), and now we can never make gigantic babies together.  Pete leaves behind a catalogue of music that, while it’s not the best heavy metal ever made, it’s certainly unique.

Your gift for today is a live version of their song “Love You to Death”.  I always liked their live shows – I saw them live twice – although not everyone agrees with my opinion.  Rest in pieces, Pete.

Voivod in the '80s. Yeah, they're Canadian.

I’ve been excitedly telling everyone about this show, and none of them seem to know who Voivod is.  So here’s a primer for those of you not cool (read: not weird) enough to know about these Quebecois thrashers.  Formed in the early ’80s, Voivod combined hardcore punk, speed metal, and prog rock, successfully marrying sloppy punk with math rock.  The result is infinitely appealing.  Voivod reached the height of their success in 1989 with the album “Nothingface”, but they kept touring and recording; Voivod’s fanbase is very loyal and has stuck with the band for years.  Longtime Metallica bassist Jason Newsted joined Voivod in 2002 and played with them until 2005, when Voivod’s legendary guitarist Denis “Piggy” d’Amour died suddenly.  They took a break after Piggy’s death, then reformed with the original singer, drummer, and bassist (Newsted still records with them, but doesn’t tour), in 2008.

I told my friend Rockula, an avid Voivod fan, that I was going to this show; his response was, “That’ll be interesting to see them without Piggy.  He was really the backbone of that band.  Oh well, I saw them in the ’80s with Soundgarden opening.”  I take this to mean that he’s jealous that he can’t go.

Details of this party are linked above (just click on “free party” to see details on Brooklyn Vegan).  You don’t have to have a badge to get in, and it’s going all day; I think Voivod’s going on at 3 or 4.  Other highlights of this show are Roky Erickson (the guys in my band love them some Roky), and Andrew WK (remember him? I’ve heard his live shows are great).

Your gift for today is some live Voivod footage of dubious quality; I like it because it shows people stage diving and stuff.  It’s from 1987 (I think they were touring with Kreator at that time), and the song is “Korgull the Exterminator”, which is a good one.