Music

Look what you made me do! Here’s my first impression of Taylor Swift’s Reputation.

Posted on By Wil

I am so far out of the demo, this feels maybe like an Abrictosaurus reviewing an opera, but for the six of you who have asked me if I’ve listened to the new Taylor Swift record, Reputation, (because I’m such a big dumb fan of 1989), here are my first impressions.

I just finished the first playthrough, and I like it. I haven’t paid super close to the lyrics, because I’ve literally listened to it one time, so this is just based on the general musical tone and pacing of the album.

Thoughts on the rest of the record:

…Ready For It? kicks off with a punch that winds me up for the rest of the record. I’m generally not a big fan of that dubstep wuuuubbbbvvvvsszzzzzzsound, but it works for me in this context.

End Game is a collaboration with Ed Sheeran and Future that left me cold. It feels out of place on this album, but especially after …Ready For It? got me so pumped up to hear what comes next. The vocals are so overproduced, the whole thing is a little much for me, but I suspect that the legion of Taylor fans who love Ed Sheeran will eat it up. (See above about how I’m not in the demo for the album.)

I Did Something Bad is glorious, lyrically and musically. I love that Taylor Swift is just dropping a huge DEAL WITH IT to everyone. This is probably my favorite song on the album.

Don’t Blame Me feels like a Lorde song, which sort of made me go “Buh? Wha? Fluh? Huh?” because I listened to Melodrama right before I listened to Reputation.

Delicate didn’t do much for me.

Look What You Made Me Do didn’t floor me when it was a single, but I feel like it works so much better in the context of the album, which isn’t what I expect from a pop album that is usually designed to have a bunch of singles (notable exception is Tove Lo’s Queen of the Clouds, which is a pop concept album and damn near perfect. Also, her new record, Blue Lips, is great).

So It Goes… feels like a song that could have been on 1989, and I mean that in the very best way.

Gorgeous is another one that could have been on 1989, the emotional B-side to Blank Space. I expect it to come back around in summer.

Getaway Car feels like a song that didn’t quite make the cut for 1989. I wasn’t crazy about it.

King of My Heart has this particular beat that’s common in pop right now that isn’t my favorite thing, and the vocals are way over processed, but for some reason those two things come together to make this track the exception that proves the rule.

Dancing With Our Hands Tied feels sort of like if Imogen Heap collaborated with Everything But The Girl in like 2002. It’s lush in a way that I haven’t heard Taylor Swift before, and I really liked that.

I’m not crazy about the falsetto in Dress, but maybe that’ll change.

This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things is a lot of fun, and feels like it would be right at home in a modern Broadway musical. (And honestly, I just don’t care who – if anyone – that song is about. Music critics just need to get over the tired trope that Taylor Swift writes songs about everyone she has dated or known or whatever. Maybe this song is about someone in particular, but why does that even matter? Maybe it’s about you, stupid music critic, you big dummy.)

New Year’s Day is a great album closer. The stripped down vocals, simple harmony, and solo piano are such a great counterpoint to the production of the rest of the album. I can feel the brief moment of darkness at the end of it, before the house lights come up, as the lights go out on the stage. I think this song is going to be in a lot of graduation videos this year.

So, overall, 4 out of 5. One track I just don’t like at all, two tracks that I can take or leave, and 12 songs I really liked. Reputation didn’t grab me on its first listen the way 1989 did, but I feel like I’m going to get into it more upon subsequent plays.

But not grabbing me right away and compelling me to restart the album right away doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not a great record; it just means that it wants me to do a little work to find my way into it. It’s like, The Bends grabbed me right away and I played it to death. OK Computer took me several listens to appreciate and love, and all these years later, I never play The Bends, and will put OK Computer on pretty much always.

Did I just compare Taylor Swift to Radiohead? You bet your face I did. Don’t @ me. I contain multitudes.

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point of clarification

Posted on By Wil
I see that the right wing noise machine has spun up and worked its adherents into quite a furor about me.
 
Fox News and its allies are working really hard to deflect attention and anger away from the role that unfettered access to weapons of mass murder played in the latest incidence of mass murder in America. Fox News and its allies want you to be angry at something they misled you into believing I said, so you will take the anger and sorrow and desire for action you feel after a mass shooting, and aim it at me, instead of holding the people in power who could prevent this to account. Fox News, Paul Ryan, and their allies are counting on their ability to fool you into believing their lies, so they can continue to do nothing until the next mass shooting, when they’ll offer thoughts and prayers but no action.
 
For a certain demographic of Fox News viewer, what I’m writing here won’t be enough. They just want to express righteous indignation and pat themselves on the back because it serves their narrative, so I’m not writing this for them. I’m writing this for reasonable people who are as sick and angry as I am about the endless cycle of preventable gun violence in America.
 
This is what I wrote yesterday, when I first saw that I was being misunderstood:
 
“I am so sick and angry that this keeps happening. America is the only first world country where we do nothing while our fellow humans are slaughtered by entirely preventable gun violence every day.
 
“People like Paul Ryan can write and pass laws that can address this epidemic of gun violence, which should be considered a public health crisis, but instead, Paul Ryan and people like him offer “thoughts and prayers” as a shield for their inaction.
 
“I heard privately from some close friends who are people of sincere Faith, and they were concerned that my anger at Paul Ryan would be misread as an attack on people of Faith. I want and need to apologize to anyone who felt like I was attacking them, or their faith (unless that person is Paul Ryan). I respect your Faith, even if I do not share it. I respect that prayer brings comfort and strength and guidance for a lot of people, and if you are one of those people, praying for God to bring comfort and strength to the families and friends of the victims and survivors is a deeply meaningful act.
 
“I am not attacking you or your Faith, and I see that in my anger, I didn’t write my thoughts as clearly as I could have. For that I sincerely apologize to anyone who I offended or hurt. I can’t take it back, but I can tell you that it was never my intention, nor is it my belief.
 
“I am angry at people like Paul Ryan who are quick to offer their thoughts and prayers after mass murder, but who refuse to do anything to even attempt to slow or stop the epidemic of gun violence that plagues America. He and people like him are hoping that you will give him a pass and let him exploit your Faith so he can continue to shrug his shoulders, take money from the NRA, and do absolutely nothing else.
 
“So just to be crystal clear: I apologize to those of you who are sincere people of Faith, who felt attacked by me. That was not my intention.”
 
==
 
To the professional atheists out there who are endlessly cruel, condescending, and dismissive toward people of Faith: I am not your ally and I’m not on your team. Don’t claim me as one of your own, because the right wing noise machine misinterpreted what I said (and I will do better in the future, to prevent my words from being misunderstood and misconstrued so easily).
 
To anyone who believes that my anger at Paul Ryan’s empty words is in any way directed toward the victims of gun violence: Attacking the victims, the survivors, or the victim’s families of any mass shooting, the way Alex Jones does with his false flag lies, is despicable and inexcusable. I want to be very clear: I was not and I am not attacking anyone who was in that church, I am not mocking their Faith. I don’t believe that a reasonable person would believe that I was, but because that lie has taken hold as a narrative, it’s important to me that I restate this, once again: Paul Ryan hides behind empty words about thoughts and prayers, exploiting the real and sincere beliefs held by people of Faith. He and people like him offer words without deeds over and over again, and I’m sick and tired of it. *That* is what I am attacking, and that is what I am angry about.
 
Fox News and its allies are working really hard to deflect attention and anger away from the role that unfettered access to weapons of mass murder played in the latest incidence of mass murder in America. Fox News and its allies want you to be angry at something they mislead you into believing I said, so you will take the anger and sorrow and desire for action you feel after a mass shooting, and aim it at me, instead of holding the people in power who could prevent this to account. Fox News, Paul Ryan, and their allies are counting on their ability to fool you into believing their lies, so they can continue to do nothing until the next mass shooting, when they’ll offer thoughts and prayers but no action.
 
Once again, to people of Faith who find comfort and strength in prayer: I am not mocking or belittling or attacking you or your relationship with God, and if you felt that I was, I hope you will accept this apology.
 
I will not apologize for being angry at Paul Ryan and people like him who have words but no deeds, and I hope that people of Faith will hold him to account.
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in which we are creative (and maybe you are, too)

Posted on By Wil

A few months ago, our friend, Kari, had a birthday party. She encouraged all of us who attended to come in some kind of 70s or 80s tacky prom outfit. Because most of us at the party are actors, writers, directors, or some other type of creative storyteller, we didn’t just show up in costumes … we showed up in costumes with backstories. It’s important that you know that none of these stories — or the existence of the backstories at all — was coordinated or even encouraged. It’s just a thing that happened, because when you get a bunch of creative people together and give them an excuse to let their imaginations run wild, you just strap in and feel the gees.

I don’t have a picture of Anne and me together, but our characters were the high school senior (her) and the creep who graduated three years ago, will never move out of their small town, and is dating her because he’s a total loser creep (me). She’s looking for a way out of her parents’ house, and wants to get back at her father. They’re using each other, are doomed to end badly, and we just hope that they don’t drag any children into their dysfunction. He will get drunk and throw up on her dress before the night is over.

I mean, maybe we put a little too much into it but — wait what am I saying. We put exactly the right amount into it.

While we were at the party, Anne took this picture of me (that’s below the jump). In this picture, I am a totally different character. This guy is legitimately cool, and dates women who are age appropriate. He’s going places, just as soon as he saves enough money to get out of this town. He’s an honest man in a dishonest world, doing the best that he can. And he’s a hell of a good pool player…

(more…)

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“Memory’s fog is rising.”

Posted on By Wil

I wrote this last night.

30 years ago today, John Carpenter’s Prince of Darkness was released.

That means that 30 years ago tonight, I was at the AMC 10 in Burbank.

Today, that part of Burbank is filled with businesses and chain restaurants and street performers. 30 years ago, there was the theater, a parking garage, a Fuddrucker’s (that’s still there and still terrible), and not much else. It was quiet when you went outside, especially after a movie that started late.

We went to a show that started around 10 or 1030pm. The air was cool, and it was so foggy, we couldn’t see the streetlights, just their glow. I went with three of my friends, who were all older than me and could drive. We listened to Van Halen in the car.

I remember that the movie wasn’t what I wanted it to be, and I was disappointed. It wasn’t scary, and the effects seemed cheesy. I wanted it to scare me the way The Thing scared me, and it didn’t do that. But it was foggy as hell that night, which is something that doesn’t happen in Burbank very often, and that made the post-showing silence especially eerie, and worth the drive. The walk to the car was more satisfying to me than the movie was.

On the way home, we went on streets instead of the freeway, because it would take us longer to get home that way, and that’s what being out at night with your friends is about when you’re fifteen. We listened to Some Great Reward on the way home. I lamented that the girl I had a huge crush on would never know I existed, and my friend, Ryan, told me (as he always did) to go talk to her or shut up about it forever. We drove through Glendale and Montrose, and on the way up the hill to my house, we drove out of the fog. I remember looking out toward Los Angeles when we got out of the car, and seeing that blanket of fog, broken by the Verdugo mountains, glowing orange from the streetlights beneath it. I remember wishing the movie had lived up to the atmosphere. I remember wishing that I’d asked Hailey to go with me to the movie.

Tonight, it’s hot and dry outside, and I am in the home I own, that I bought with my wife. I drove my Mini today and listened to Depeche Mode. My wife is asleep in our bed. Our son is asleep in our guest room. I feel like that teenager I was thirty years ago isn’t even a real person, just a foggy memory that’s painful to visit more often than it is not.

A lot of my teens blurs together, because I worked all the time and I was so unhappy, I spent my twenties trying to forget them. But this is one of the things that I can remember pretty clearly, because of the fog.

The fog. In literary symbolism, we use fog to represent mystery, the inability to see clearly, and uncertainty. It’s interesting to me that the fog is the only reason I can remember anything about that night, thirty years ago, and that tonight I can recall so much of it so clearly.

Time is weird. Memory is weird. Life is strange.