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Oxford American Magazine

One of my favorite all-time magazines is back on the shelf with its annual music issue. I’ve shilled for this magazine before when came back to the shelves after it’s second time going under. Bear with me — it’s hard to keep my excitement tempered when it comes to this thing.

The Oxford American is a modern perspective on the American South. Each issue is themed, ranging from southern food to southern movies — the upcoming issue is on Southern art and architecture — and provides social, historical and critical commentary to various aspects of these themes. This summer brings their annual music issue. It comes with a free, full-length CD and wonderful, quirky articles on the artists, their relationship to the music industry, and how they are geographically and culturally grounded in their eras.

The magazine’s website states:

The last OXFORD AMERICAN Southern Music Issue we released, in 2003, won a National Magazine Award (beating out ROLLING STONE, among others) for “outstanding achievement” in a “single-topic issue.” The judges noted that “like the bluegrass artist who bends his notes in all the right places, THE OXFORD AMERICAN finds perfect pitch in its annual Southern Music issue.” We’re grateful for that attention. But our new 2005 Southern Music Issue, if we may be so bold, is even better.

I’d agree. Their last issue was almost exclusively unknown artists, with the exception of Marilyn Monroe and Jane Mansfield, that would be completely new names to non-music junkies. However, this issue features several well-known names and people whose connections to the music industry lay primarily in the background.

Take, for instance, this version of “Take Another Piece of My Heart” by Aretha Franklin’s older sister Erma, an accomplished singer in her own right. As the author of the accompanying article states, it is difficult to compare Erma’s voice with Janis Joplin’s, who made the song famous, without concluding that Joplin is a no-talent hack who “clumsily aped the black style and the debaser of work original to someone who was her better.” Ouch. But true.

And this song by Sammi Smith, the artist who beat out Merle Haggard, Loretta Lynn, and every other country music artist out there to make number one on the Country Music’s 500 Greatest Singles list. Brilliant stuff.

And one of my favorites, having just come from Graceland, is this live version of Elvis’ “Suspicious Minds,” sung to a Vegas audience weeks before the song was released as yet another tacky single which Elvis tried to use to boost his floundering credibility as an artist. As the OA website states,

You’ll probably love this performance since there’s nothing Las Vegas-schlocky about it; both Elvis and his band sound insanely red-hot. As Alan Light, former editor of SPIN, VIBE, and TRACKS, says in his perceptive companion piece, on this track Elvis “sang like a man with something to prove.”

But aside from the music, the best part of this annual music issue are the accompanying articles. The articles are written by people who clearly love music and the context in which this music is made. One in particular stands out to me, written by a young father travelling with his young son in Europe, listening to a Howard Tate song in preparation for writing this article. As he and his son listen to and share this song with one another, the author pontificates on Howard Tate’s short career, ended with drug abuse after the death of his young daughter in a house fire, and the sad situational irony of having acclaimed notoriety with a song titled “Where Did My Baby Go?

Another article that was a special treat, as a lover of Johnny Cash, is the overview of the life of Cowboy Jack Clement, a man who wrote and produced many of the classic country songs we know and love, and his special relationships with many artists who reached legendary status because of Clement’s own artistry. In particular, I love hearing Johnny Cash sing backup for Clement on a song Clement wrote that Cash made famous. This version was recorded shortly before Johnny died last year.

All this is to say that this magazine is a gem, full of excellent creative and critical writing, and is deserving of our humble eyes after rising from the dead not once but twice. Trust me. It’s wonderful.

If you happen to take a look at the magazine at my insistence, drop me a line below and tell me what you think.

Friday Random Ten – The “Title It Your Damn Self” Edition

If it’s Friday somewhere, it’s time for the Friday Random Ten. Roxanne was kind enough to point out it is already Friday in Asia, which is all I need as an excuse to publish the Friday Random Ten on a Thursday night without anything cool to do like attend the BlogHer conference this weekend.

Load all your mp3s into your player of choice, hit random and list the first ten to play. If you’re feeling sinister, exercise the coolness audit. Now, my pretties, leave yours in the comments or on your own site.

FRT

1) Elliott Smith – 2:45 am
2) Le Tigre – Darwinism and the Status Quo
3) New Order – Ceremony
4) The Russian Futurists – Our Pen’s Out of Ink
5) Peaches – Shake Yer Dix
6) Nancy Sinatra – You Only Live Twice
7) The Slits – Vindictive
8) Sir Mix A Lot – Posse on Broadway
9) Sons and Daughters – Taste the Last Girl
10) Morrissey – Irish Blood, English Heart

Bonus Guilty Please Track: Mount Sims’ Black Sunglasses. Guilty because I still can’t totally accept the new electronic music, even if it reeks of the 1980s. Okay, I lied. I kind of like it. A lot.

Hillary v. Xbox: Long Ramble on Video Games, Movies, Representation, and The Gaze

Dear Sen. Clinton,

I’m writing to commend you for calling for a $90-million study on the effects of video games on children, and in particular the courageous stand you have taken in recent weeks against the notorious “Grand Theft Auto” series.

I’d like to draw your attention to another game whose nonstop violence and hostility has captured the attention of millions of kids — a game that instills aggressive thoughts in the minds of its players, some of whom have gone on to commit real-world acts of violence and sexual assault after playing.

I’m talking, of course, about high school football.

Of course I’m not too hot on GTA:SA. I haven’t played it myself but have spent enough time watching friends play to get annoyed. I was curious, especially having read some of Dr. B.‘s research on race representation in video games. This short post got me a-thinkin’.

One of the reasons I can’t lose myself in gaming is the inability to feel represented by the characters, part of the reason I find myself resisting movies as well. As per a comment I left on Pandagon today in response to watching The Woodsman, a movie in which the audience is compelled to sympathize with a pedophile after he is released from prison:

“One thing that truly bothers me — and I know there will be a number of people who will feel compelled to throw out examples once I’ve said this — is that this was another case of telling a martyred man’s story with a sympathetic eye while the victimized women serve only as catalysts for his internal change. I’d like to see more stories about realistic characters told overall, but I think the movie industry is ripe for change when it comes to the telling of hard, challenging women’s stories.

“I have to say that when I saw the movie, the protrayals of survivorhood really bothered me. The female characters didn’t need to be treated flippantly, but neither did they need to be damaged beyond repair. Further, I have a hard time sympathizing with child abusers and rapists. But that’s intensely personal.

I watched that movie, reluctantly, and when it was over I felt like shit.”

Granted, there are plenty of games and non-Lifetime movies that focus on women’s realities, but more often than not, women in entertainment mediums serve as tools for male advancement and enhancement. Part of this is the perceived audience, the production’s mental images of men lining up to buy movie tickets and video games, and only reluctantly tagging along with their female significant others if a woman’s face graces the accompanying promotional poster.

And so, when I commented on Pandagon again on the GTA:SA “Hot Coffee” mod, I said:

“I hate to be a buzzkill but for the most part no one seems to care about perpetuating tiresome stereotypes of urban African-Americans (or for that matter the poor, hick white folks in the game — and Glory Hole Park anyone?), and if the game does anything, it re-presents these stereotypes in a new, exciting! way.

And unfortunately the game sticks to these stereotypes in all the ways in which choice isn’t an option — the charaters’ ridiculous catch phrases, for example, which as far as I know cannot be turned off. It’s tiresome to play and to listen to, no?

“And again, even though the game is ripe for criticisms of race representations, all anyone wants to notice is the violence and the sex. Is it because of the imagined audience?

“Sure the game is interesting and has useful innovations for tech and gaming, but the story and world itself is pretty fucked up, especially if you realize that the world you have to act in is actually quite limited.”

The limitations of sight, story, and representation are one of the hardest things for me to get over when I am supposed to immerse myself into an alternate world. The choices are too limited, the gaze too focused. Books have a different effect on my brain — as a reader I am free to create any picture of the characters, scenery, and actions I like, even differing from the author’s vision as I see fit. The brain alters any act or vision it finds abhorrent to fit the reader and modifies a full, but base, storyline. Oftentimes, when I read, fictional characters lack a face or body at all, and move about in words and empty space.

The jump to watching movies and playing video games is difficult, in that that there is a visual representation, complete with a gaze that almost never matches my own. It is not only irreconcilable to me that I am not represented in form, but that the gaze does not represent mine.

Like Senator Clinton and other congressional prudes, I resist these kinds of games and movies, but for totally different reasons. Too often these media are an attempt to shock us back into feeling after having been made numb by preceeding exploitative “entertainment.” I can’t be entertained by active promotion of racism and sexism and respond negatively to such shock. As with watching The Woodsman I leave the experience feeling like shit.

[Editorial via Chuck‘s post on Correlation v. Causation]

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Yesterday’s highlight was taking Ethan to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. We had bought the original recently, watched it and liked it, and I promised E we would go to the new one sometime this summer.

I’m usually loathe to go see movies in the theater. I saw the newest Batman this summer (hated it) when I had to choose between it and whatever zombie movie is out this summer (would have hated it). I just don’t like movies all that much.

That said, I loved Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It was all about the Oompa Loompas — Deep Roy was awesome. All the original songs have been updated for a campy feel, and thankfully choreographed. What I didn’t like was Johnny Depp. Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka was a menacing, cynical fellow that easily swung from charitable to mean in a matter of seconds. Depp’s portrayal left him somewhere between Edward Scissorhands and Michael Jackson.

I now understand what other bloggers meant when they said they’d take up recreational drugs for a night just to watch this movie again. It’s straight psychadelic in parts, as it was in the original, but brighter, more colorful, and aimed at an older audience. Though it is perfectly suitable for children, people of all ages and ways can enjoy this movie. It is worth seeing in the theater, and that’s from someone who doesn’t like movies.

But my favorite thing was seeing Ethan’s mouth covered in a golden sheen, slick up to his elbows in popcorn butter. That kid can eat.

Mixmania Summer Edition

One of the strangest things about blogs is that it is not uncommon to see very serious posts about war and death juxtaposed with posts about cats and music. Excuse this regrettable oddness while I post my Mixmania CD playlist as I have been urged to (finally) do.

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