pop (all love)

"I wanted to be Batman"
And this week's Nellie McKay profile.

In the key of 'Gee': Singer-songwriter Nellie McKay talks like Doris Day, but she can also sing like Randy Newman, and by one account is better than Gershwin
Thursday, March 11, 2004
Aaron Wherry - National Post

Where to start? Maybe with the fact that she counts Dylan Thomas as a cousin. Or that she dabbled in stand-up comedy before settling on music. Or that her grandfather was a convicted murderer who served time in San Quentin, or that her great-grandfather was a bullfighter in Spain.

Then there's the story about how Nellie McKay (pronounced mi-KAI if you believe her official bio, Muh-KYE if you read The New York Times) wanted to name her debut album Black America. Then Penis Envy. Both were rejected, so she settled on Get Away From Me.

Or the story about the time she was held hostage by a mugger and later forced to move to Olympia, Wash., (with nine cats and a dog in tow) because her mother's lawyer was murdered and dismembered, possibly at the behest of her building's landlord. Or that her mother, Robin Pappas, is an actress who appeared in Chariots of Fire and was recently featured as Donald Trump's pottery teacher in a TV commercial.

And let's not forget that she has penned songs in German and Japanese with the help of foreign-language dictionaries and pronunciation guides.

Then there's what happens when she sings in English. When she croons about love, loss, marriage, death, President Bush, the late U.S. senator Paul Wellstone and the Oxygen Network, she sounds like Doris Day, Randy Newman and Eminem all at once.

She giggles things like "golly," "gee" and "swell," echoing the classic movies she seems to have been transported from, but can turn on a dime and debate the development of modern feminism, the Atkins diet or the overbearing nature of Montel Williams.

Oh, by the way, Jason Trachtenburg of the equally outrageous Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players insists she's "better than Gershwin." And, let's not forget, she's all of 19.

But, for now, let's start where little Nellie started. With Batman.

"My mother was an actress, so I always wanted to avoid show business as much as possible," she begins. "And I had little friends who wanted to be actresses and I'd think I was so much better than them because I wanted to be Batman."

Batman's pretty cool.

"Batman's wonderful," she says. "But I mean, you know, I shouldn't have been laughing at them for wanting to be actresses when I wanted to be Batman. But I really did, I wanted to be Batman. But that didn't happen. Oddly enough."

No, instead she discovered Jerry Lee Lewis. And the rest is about to become history.

"I'd taken piano lessons from the age of eight. But I'd never appreciated music. I'd always wanted to do something else. But we moved to Olympia, Wash., and we saw the movie Great Balls of Fire. And I got up right at the end of the movie and I ran right over to the piano and I was starting to do that crazy boogie-woogie-woogie thing where you stand up and kick and play the piano. And from then on, I was so into that. And I was really practising.

"And I did a version of Whole Lotta Shakin' called Whole Lotta Learnin' Going On at my school. I was so, so into that. And so it was really from then that I've been pursuing the fame gambit."

Not that it was really that straightforward. Not that anything about McKay ever really is.

"From there, it's gone from wanting to be a piano player to wanting to just be a stand-up singer like Doris Day to wanting to be an actor to wanting to be a comedian to trying to dream up stunts that could just get me on the front page of the New York Post and then I'd be offered my own TV show or something," she says of her ever-evolving master plan. "But eventually it came down to doing standards in clubs and then I started writing my own music. But it was all pretty inadvertent."

She was a bit of an outcast in high school (why are we not entirely shocked by that revelation?) and didn't last too long in the Manhattan School of Music. She had, she says, a lot of angst. And a constant "need to impress." Both of which are all over Get Away From Me -- piano pop with disco and rap asides and the political pulse of a classic folk record.

On I Wanna Get Married she croons, "I wanna get married, that's why I was born. I wanna partake in bake sales for the classroom ... as I exhume the gloom of my shallow life."

On Sari she takes aim at liberal guilt and still manages to rhyme "shot" with "Faust" and poke at the disciples "cryin' for Senator Wellstone."

Her politics are a gift from her mom, who used to pin Dukakis buttons to little Nellie's parka when she was a toddler.

Won't U Please Be Nice (the jaw-dropping ditty that earned her an F from the Manhattan School of Music) warns a lover that "if we part I'll eat your heart" before gently pleading, "so won't you please be nice."

It was that song that reportedly won her Best in Show at a music festival in Alabama, and soon thereafter she was playing standards at piano bars and clubs in and around New York City (she was born in London, England, and besides New York and Olympia, she spent a short time in Pennsylvania).

Then came the Time Out New York piece in March, 2003, that introduced the world to "an eccentric teen songsmith about to give Randy Newman a run for his money." In her first major interview, McKay joked of playing with the brightly coloured crack vials that littered the park in her Harlem neighbourhood.

Nobody had asked McKay to her high school prom. But now everyone wanted to dance. A bidding war ensued, reportedly including as many as five labels. Sony went home with the girl.

"I just had to stop and ask, 'Wait a minute, is she really 19 years old? Is this really coming out of her?'" Mitchell Cohen, the man at Sony who signed her, has said. "The nature of the performance, the material, the piano playing and the vocabulary, the musical vocabulary -- ranging from vaguely cabaret-ish stuff to very contemporary, sharp and clever lyrics -- and sweet demeanour combined with a dark, subversive side. There was something about her that was very intriguing."

Her debut record -- a double album at McKay's demand -- was released last month. And the wide-eyed acclaim of critics who have never heard anything quite like it has been quick to follow. Redemption -- against the kids, the teachers, all those who thought her merely another artsy-fartsy New York oddball -- would seem to be hers.

"Redemption will come when I'm huge," she says with little doubt of her own bright future. "But by that time I'll be trying to get over my affair with Ellen DeGeneres or something. It'll just have to be another problem, whatever that will be."

She speaks in certainties, with little doubt that her every hope and dream is sure to come true. It's cocky and precocious, but not at all unreasonable. Not that doubt doesn't creep in every so often.

"I'm beginning to get kinda worried because I only knew the Top 40 of the Billboard charts so I thought, 'You must debut there. That must be how it works.' So since it hasn't I've begun to think, 'Uh oh, maybe I'm not going to be big.' But i think it will -- I hope it will sell. Do you think I'm going to sell a million albums?"

I don't see why that's not a reasonable goal.

"Oh, good. Well, I think I'll sell more than a million. I just wonder when I'm going to reach a million."

It'll be a start.

In search of the Purple Cow
This past week's column.

Lil' Johnny v. Men in slacks: The music industry is headed for a label-less future -- unless it's not
Monday, March 8, 2004
Aaron Wherry - National Post

With Edgar Bronfman's purchase of the company signed and sealed, Warner Music laid off 1,000 employees -- 20% of its global work force -- last week. All because Lil' Johnny downloaded the last Kid Rock album and burned copies for all his friends. Truly a sad, horrible day, etc. for the music business. Another sign of an industry in "crisis." Right?

Well, maybe. Then again, maybe not.

A couple of nights later, upstairs at Toronto's Top o' the Senator, local jazz luminaries Kollage, featuring Cuban piano prodigy David Virelles, were still swinging through a week long engagement. There was, to my eyes at least, little crying, moping and/or whining for the state of their beleaguered industry. Just periodic kibitzing with the 15 or so of us in attendance.

There was a distinct lack of mourning the next night at the Phoenix as Shawn Hewitt, Graph Nobel, Tangiers and Metric laid bare the never-ending potential of Toronto's limitless music scene as part of Canadian Music Week festivities.

Not even Lil' Johnny was feeling all that guilty last week. Because a few weeks ago he flipped open Rolling Stone and read that Lyor Cohen, the man who will lead this new, "nimble" (as Billboard put it) Warner will make at least (AT LEAST!) US$10-million this year. Then this week Lil' Johnny was skimming through Rolling Stone's latest Richest Rock Star List and noticed that Metallica, they of the stridently anti-downloading Lars Ulrich, had managed, despite the scourge of online piracy, to scrape together a little over US$39-million last year (in between lighting his hand-rolled Cuban cigars with hundred-dollar bills, Ulrich advised that the band was still welcoming charitable donations).

And there had only been optimism that Thursday morning, during CMW's State of the Industry panel discussion. Except when there was pessimism. And periodically, profound bewilderment.

One industry official had the temerity to say the label downsizing of late was, in fact, a "good" thing. Another argued that all was well because the industry was on the verge of finding its "Purple Cow." Whatever that means.

Strangely coloured bovine or no strangely coloured bovine, the music industry, we were told (by "experts" who seemed to derive all their knowledge of the consumer from the spending habits of their respective 10-year-old daughters), had simply to realize one thing -- CDs cost too much. Unless, others argued, they don't cost enough.

In which case, online subscription services are the answer. Unless they're not.

Either way, parents need to educate their children about the moral evils of illegal downloading. But then again, maybe we can't ask parents to do that. Maybe the dinner table should be saved for important discussions. Like, "What did you do at school today, dear?" or "Daddy, why does President Bush hate gay people?"

So maybe video games are the problem. Or, maybe not. Wait, it's that the records have too much filler. Or, maybe they don't have enough. Actually, we just need artists to make more albums. Or, maybe less.

If nothing else, we know one thing for sure -- illegal downloading is killing the music industry. And if the music industry collapses, there won't be anyone to make more music. Unless all of that too is a load of something that Purple Cow might leave behind.

This last argument -- that music's general creation is somehow tied to the industry's continued existence -- is, quite obviously, a flimsy one at best. That Kollage or the Tangiers would be silenced by the continued demise of the record business is to suggest that were Nike and Reebok to cease production, we would have nothing to wear on our feet. Everything else though is up for grabs. And if anybody tells you they have an answer, they are, in fact, most likely trying to sell you something.

Consider that of the three most-talked-about albums of the still young 2004, only one (Norah Jones' Feels Like Home) could be considered a bona fide major-label success story -- and even there her continued popularity has as much to do with small-label nurturing and the mystical appeal of pop music as it has to do with any kind of mass promotion or distribution.

The other two records -- Kanye West's The College Dropout and Danger Mouse's The Grey Album -- derived much of their success in direction contradiction of major-label wishes. Anticipation only heightened by an early leak of the album and West's stature on the bootleg mixed-tape scene, The College Dropout roared onto the Billboard charts upon debut, bested only be the aforementioned Miss Jones.

Meanwhile, EMI's cease-and-desist letter to Danger Mouse, the DJ who blended Jay-Z's Black Album and the Beatles' White Album to periodically brilliant effect, launched his illegal bootleg to global infamy and spurred a rebellious bunch of Internet geeks to launch Grey Tuesday, a 24-hour orgy of piracy that saw the album downloaded 100,000 times from approximately 170 participating sites (note: both organizers' claims).

These are indeed strange days. But for both sides; the cluelessness is equally shared. For as confused as those record executives revealed themselves to be Thursday morning, so too are the self-styled freedom fighters and Internet revolutionaries who perceive themselves to be bringing down the monolithic beast that is the music industry.

Last February, Wired magazine heralded a "post-label world" in a Charles C. Mann-penned obituary entitled "The Year the Music Dies." It was their cover story, complete with a picture of the Hindenburg disaster to illustrate the coming apocalypse.

More than a year later, the major labels, though consolidated, downsized and forever scrabbling for answers, still exist. And they show little sign of going gently into the good night.

Will they continue to adapt to a changing marketplace? Will indies thrive under a less-structured system? Will 12-year-old Lil' Johnny ignore the threat of lawsuit and continue to download with near impunity? Will iTunes be the answer? On all accounts: a definite maybe.

This much we know for sure: There is nothing more soul-crushing than sitting in a hotel ballroom, listening to a middle-aged white man in dress slacks discuss music in terms of "value proposition."

Janet has had a complete facial repaint
This - commemorative Nipplegate dolls for sale on Ebay - just had to happen.

But why (WHY?!) must the guy selling them be Canadian? (And what the hell is wrong with Janet's neck?)

Eleanor Rigby
Former Canadian Idol contestant Mikey Bustos - whether he realizes it or not - perfectly summarizes the Idol franchise in today's Star:
"It's a TV show and they're looking for TV characters."

I have a huge taxidermy collection at home
Gawker has the best riff on the Jack White verdict:

Jack White Pleads Guilty, Gets Hand Slapped
White Striper Jack White pleaded guilty to making hamburger out of fellow Detroit rockboy Jason Stollsteimer's face -- and got fined only 500 bucks? Cool. Next payday I'm gonna get out my checkbook and go whomp on some Williamsburg kids. Who knew this was a game we could all afford to play?

Don't tell me life's not fair
So, everybody heading out to see Avril at Fairview mall Thursday afternoon?! Eh?... anybody?... no?... just me then?... oh... alright... nevermind...

"I was also heavily influenced by Sinbad."
The Cutting Room Floor, Vol. 1 No. 4: This time the charming Nellie McKay, who is profiled fully in tomorrow's Post.

On her brief foray into stand-up comedy:
"It was my second - and final - year of college. And it wasn't going very well there. And I had had a very good experience over the summer at school of film and television. So I thought, 'Screw this music stuff, I'll be like Brett Butler,' because she's one of my heroes. The first time I went out and did my routine I got a great response and this guy approached me about managing me. I really do like observational humour. I guess there's a bit of Brett Butler in there, but I'm probably closer to Ellen DeGeneres or Paula Poundstone. I mean, I was also heavily influenced by Sinbad, but I don't think it shows. There's something about comedians that I've always really identified with. But it's much harder now though because the comedy boom during the 80s provided a lot of venues for one to practice one's craft every night, you could just venue hop. And now there's no such thing. Eventually I did get a manager and I was beginning to get gigs MCing and hosting, but it was right about that time that I was getting gigs on my own for music at piano bars. And the pressure is much less intense there. And also I just always felt it was easier to prepare music than comedy... The material was ok, but my delivery SUCKED! Oh my god, it was awful. Just terrible."

On her introduction to politics:
My mother is very political. And I can remember as a little toddler having Dukakis pins on my parka. I remember the Clinton/Bush election was the first one I was really aware of and we could really root for someone and we'd be in elementary school talking about it. I remember I really wanted Clinton to win. And, you know, I can still remember jokes at Ross Perot's expense. That's when my political consciousness came alive. And I was in New York City at that point so everybody in my class - it was practically all black and Hispanic - they were all for Clinton. There was one white kid who was for Perot. So all the jokes were at his expense because he was kind of a little snot anyway. And also to have the first election that you are aware of, to have your guy win, I think that does something to you also. Because we weren't accustomed to defeat like our parents were. So it was pretty swell."

On high school student government:
"I also was fascinated student you run for student government in high school, how easy it is to win really. Because the popular kids, the only reason they get votes is because of name recognition. It's really a good
lesson in how you win. So as long as you have better posters than them you can win. Student government is nothing anyway. You basically run and don't do anything. Only when I didn't show up for meetings, I was the big bad one. But they were just going to meetings to talk about jewelry anyway."

On being called an oddball:
"There's Carrot Top oddball, and then, you know, The Beatles were considered quite freakish when they came out. I think there are different types of oddball."

On her old apartment building:
"It was always my dream to buy back that building. I think it still is. Gosh, I have so much I wanna do with my money. I want to make the rent really cheap and let everyone live there cheap."

On dealing with snarky journalists:
"My dog Joey used to run up to the pitbulls and wag his tail and try to be friends. And sometimes that really backfired. You gotta not always be so waggy tailed."

The disorder came later, with the divorce of the parents.
All good things come to France first. For instance, Leslie Feist's long-awaited second solo album, Let It Die (note: I have only this example to back up that original theory).
Le Monde is showing Feist le love. Or so I assume, my French being what it is (that is nearly non-existent - I feel your pain Belinda).
French version of the story here. Unintentionally hilarious Google translation here.
For our French speaking friends there's also: "L'épure éparse de Feist"
And the English translation: "The scattered diagram of Feist"
Short clips of the new album - including her covers of Ron Sexsmith and the BeeGees (?!) - can be heard here (though I'm having troubles viewing that page).
Finally, thanks to beloved technology, Let It Die is already popping up on the Internet. To keep this fair, I'll download it (since I was going to get it for free anyway), give it a listen and let you know how it is. Then you can all wait another two months to buy it. Deal?
Didn't think so.

(Thanks to Feist's friend Tab for all this.)

Tears of a clown
Don't persecute the kid because he wears make-up. This kid needs help. His poor, innocent mind is being corrupted by Good Charlotte. So much so that he's taking make-up tips from them. Listen, young man, if you like the make-up and the rock n' roll, listen to Marilyn Manson or, heck, dig out your mom's old KISS records. Or try some Duran Duran. Er, actually, scratch that last one.
Then again, kid sounds awfully enlightened - maybe more so than the guardians of decency and virtue running his school board:
"I don't think I'm goth. I don't think I'm punk . . . I'd call me, me."
Words to live by kids. Words to live by.
If Good Charlotte - or their publicist - know what they're doing, they'll publicly voice their support for this kid. Maybe give him a call and tell him to keep sticking it to The Man. Maybe tell him he's, like, gonna be, like, a Rosa Parks for young male punks who would prefer to wear, like, make-up at school. And stuff.

People telling me things
Information passed on today by eager local promoters:

The latest in the UmbrellaMusic Live series will be at the Rivoli on Mar. 17, and feature the Two-Minute Miracles, Aaron Booth, The Sea Snakes, and Afie Jurvanen. Tickets are $6. See the website for more info.

And Nellie McKay is coming to Toronto to play the El Mocambo on Mar. 25. For a preview, you can still grab the St. Joe's Pub bootleg from me on Soulseek (screen name: agwherry - when I'm online at least).

Cherry Bomb
Random tidbits, gleaned from a Sunday brunch conversation with Nardwuar, about Canadian glam-rock, Viking Thor:

1) Jack Black once expressed interest in playing the role of Thor in a film about the heavy metal oddity.
2) Thor himself was once up for a role in Full Metal Jacket.
3) At one time, Thor dated Charo.

Coochie. Coochie.

P.S. Saturday night, Thor was Nardwuar's special guest for the Evaporators' show at the Horseshoe. Poor guy almost passed out when he blew up the hot water bottle. Then he was accosted by some over-eager member of the audience. Then another guy jumped on stage and pulled down his pants. Rock. And. Roll.

Guess Carl Wilson's Age
I was handed the latest issue of Wavelength on Sunday by a nice young man on Queen St., so it seems as good a time as any to link to the increasingly influential zines' website. It is here. In the aftermath of Canadian Music Week it seems prudent to point out that a couple weeks ago one "insider" put forward the idea to me that Wavelength, much (MUCH!) more than CMW, is a true barometer of Toronto's (and, to a certain extent, Canada's) thriving indie scene.
Also a good idea to stop by Wavelength's 20hz messageboard. There I recently read someone observe that "The oldest person I ever see at shows is Carl Wilson."
Which makes me wonder: How old do we think Carl Wilson really is?
Only his hairdresser knows for sure of course, but I'm guessing 74. Give or take 35 to 45 years.

Bleeding Hearts
Wells, Coyne, Cosh, Kinsella and Nestruck are all over the Liberal family feuds.

Thoughts:
-Coyne's all over, well, everything. Including a Conservative debate or some sort. Apparently they're electing a leader or something (?). Who knew.
-Wells continues to helps us Anglophones out with the French papers.
-Nestruck is representin' us lowly arts reporters with a biting critique of the Liberals' new logo.
-Cosh seems to say that Tony Valeri is just slightly better than a baked ham (hell of a potential campaign slogan for our Transport Minister me thinks).
-And finally, Warren Kinsella. After grousing about the Martinites and the fact that he wasn't allowed to vote in Hamilton, Kinsella fires this shot at MP Carolyn Parrish:
"March 7, 2004 - Hey! Here's a neat new game! Let's call it Mass Slander. The rules are simple: defame entire countries, and then get rewarded with a prized Liberal Party candidacy - for example, call Americans 'bastards' who you 'hate,' or accuse unnamed Israelis of 'crimes against humanity.'
And you win! It's that simple!"

Fair enough. Martin is due much criticism for allowing an MP with such a record to seek candidacy solely so that he might maintain an uncontested grip on power and further wipe clean the slate of Chretien loyalists (in this case the man Parrish defeated, former Chretien cabinet minister Steve Mahoney).

But wasn't it Kinsella's guy - Jean? Jean Chretien? Remember him? - who allowed Parrish and her hate to fester, with inaction more or less granting such stuff his blessing? Couldn't he have effectively snuffed out Parrish's political career in the immediate aftermath of her anti-American rant?

Instead, he let it slide. And now, she's bouncing one of his boys from government.

Weekend reading
The Globe's Guy Dixon seems to have enjoyed Canadian Music Week more than I.
The Globe's Carl Wilson seems to have it hated it more than, well, anyone.
The Star's Ben Rayner feels old.
A classical fan, The Star's Peter Goddard, struggles to find harmony in an iPod world.
Next Big Thing Matt Mays has a former Rolling Stones' producer helping him out, says Karen Bliss.
David Crosby makes Melissa Etheridge's kid proud.
And the worst just don't know when to quit.

The New Wedge Issue
Leaving gay marraige aside for a moment - more, importantly, on which side of the Nellie McKay debate do you place your allegiance?
As a newbie, I put it to the ilXor folks. This is the debate that followed.

Pogo don't count
Last week's column.
The disco divide: A new way to look at the music that segregated rockers and dancers
Aaron Wherry - National Post
Monday, March 1, 2004
Aaron Wherry

This being '70s week at the National Post (check Wednesday's paper for Raymond J. de Souza's fuzzy memories of Studio 54), it seems as good a time as any to reconsider the relative merits of disco. Thing is, after approximately two-and-a-half minutes of careful reconsideration, the conclusion remains the same; disco still sort of sucks.

Not entirely, of course. To be fair, it's nearly impossible for anthing to completely "suck" or, conversely, "rule." But its legacy -- bad clothes, bad music, bad drugs -- is a diffcult one to ignore.

For every minor bit of brilliance from, say, ABBA or the BeeGees, there were the Village People or K.C. and the Sunshine band. It ruined Rod Stewart. And nearly did the same to the Rolling Stones. All the while making a career for John Travolta (some sins may never be forgiven).

If nothing else though, it got white people dancing. Sweeping aside the cloistered history of square dancing, polka and American Bandstand, disco made it safe for the sort of sexual, hedonistic, reckless, loose-limbed, pelvic-thrusting gyration that became its trademark. To be sure, this was no small achievement. In fact, so groundbreaking was this dancing, that we quickly suppressed it -- banishing it to the furthest reaches of pop culture, safe only for punchlines, VH1 specials and ironic night at the Karaoke bar.

This has forever segregated white music -- danceable pop on one side, stridently anti-dance rock on the other. But a few decades after the fact, we might finally be getting around to the idea that dancing need not be embarassing, frowned upon, sinful or, for that matter, packaged around truly awful music.

It's an idea we've been struggling with ever since that infamous Disco Demolition Night at Chicago's Comiskey Park brought the whole tawdry affair to a close. From that night onward, there has been a clear line down the middle of the club. On one side, stand (quite literally) the rockers, willing only to nod the odd head or pump the odd fist to the beat. On the other, the dancers, their everlasting love of disco redirected at the latest in pop music.

(And maybe the divide was even deeper than that. We would be remiss at this point if we didn't at least acknowledge the popular theory that genres like punk and the entire "disco sucks" phenomenon carried with it an undercurrent of racism and homophobia -- the idea being that the disco backlash was in no small part due to white conservative America's discomfort with disco's origins in the black and gay communities.)

Of course, disco didn't so much cease to exist after that as much as it was simply swallowed up by rock 'n' roll and pop.

On the plus side, this gave us New Wave (maybe the closest rock has yet been to full-endorsed dancing). Sadly, it also gave us the rest of the '80s -- a decade of pop music that only recycled the mantra of bad clothes, bad music, bad drugs. For every Madonna, there was a Tiffany. And a Hall & Oates. And a Toto or two.

In the '90s, pop continued to prattle on (the cheese growing only more rancid with age), while rock continued to rage against it (see Nirvana and the early '90s alt- rock explosion).

Then along came raves, as much a sequel to disco as they were a new awakening for rhythm-challenged skinny white kids. This was Disco Part II: The Drugs Still Don't Work, complete with bad clothes and bad music. And it took a load of E to distract you from the fact that the music, in large doses, was a load of crap.

Rave and club culture was banished back to the fringes. Rock and pop cherry-picked bits and pieces for their respective causes. And the status quo, for the most, remained. Which goes a long way to explaining why Junior Senior's D-D-Don't Stop The Beat -- one of last year's truly outstanding records -- seemed such a revelation. Here two Danes -- one skinny, one fat; one gay, one straight -- had created the perfect mash-up of disco and rock, a joyous celebration of both. Shy white boys found the courage to dance. The world seemed a better place.

In Toronto at the moment, one of the more buzzed about bands is a five-piece called controller.controller. Hailed not for thrashing rock or angsty melodrama, they are instead celebrated as the first band in memory to get the city's legions of skinny white indie kids to dance.

Their manic, raging debut, on Paper Bag Records, is an unabashed homage to disco's reckless abandon, no less indie cool, but no less demanding that you shake something.

And from Scotland last week came Franz Ferdinand, a Talking Heads for the 21st century who quite famously like to say that they only ever wanted to make music "that girls could dance to." In an interview last week, they spoke as affectionately of Morrissey as they did of ABBA.

Their show at Toronto's Horseshoe was a battleground. In some corners, full on flailing. Elsewhere, the head bobbers and fist pumpers fought history and programmed prejudice to move an appendage or two. Maybe a little late to the party, rock seemed at that moment to be taking its first tentative steps back onto to the dance floor it had long dismissed.

Not quite a revoltuon just yet, of course. But a new way to look at disco's legacy all the same.

Subject to change without notice
Two months into 2004. Good a time as any to draw up a premature Best Of list for the year.

Undisputed Top 3:
1. Kanye West - College Dropout
2. Nellie McKay - Get Away From Me
3. Norah Jones - Feels Like Home

But also:
Broken Social Scene - Beehives
The Walkmen - Bows & Arrows
Franz Ferdinand - Franz Ferdinand
Cee-Lo - Cee-Lo Green Is The Soul Machine
Controller.Controller - History
Tangiers - Never Bring You Pleasure
John Frusciante - Shadows Collide With People
Raising the Fawn - The North Sea
Danger Mouse - The Grey Album
Sondre Lerche - Two May Monologue

Wowie, wow, wow...
... as Christopher Walken might say. This has nothing to do with music or, well, much of anything. But this is the official scoresheet from tonight's Ottawa Senators/Philadelphia Flyers war.
ESPN.com and TSN.ca are buzzing about this game. But should you go to NHL.com you'll find no mention of it on the main page. Which is part of the problem with the NHL and why that league currently perches precariously on the edge of oblivion.
The logical comparison is to the NFL. Whereas that league promotes its violence and brutality and thrives, the NHL instead chooses to treat what has always been an integral part of the game as some sort of dark family secret not to be spoken about in public by the nice people who run the game. And, as a result, toils in obscurity.
Flip on Sportscentre (or, for our American readers, Sportscenter) and watch the highlights. Tell me if you see one ass in its assigned seat during the six-on-six brawl in the third period. Every single person in that arena is on their feet, wide-eyed and blood thirsty.
Heck, the ARENA football league does a better job of promoting this sort of stuff. Maybe that's why one of its regular season games bested the NHL's all-star game in the television ratings a few weeks ago.

The Cutting Room Floor, Vol. 1 No. 3
Special Friday night bonus edition. This time Hamilton Leithauser of The Walkmen.

On England:
"We just hate it over there. We’ve been like three times now and each time was worse. We’ve done so much trying to put our finger on what’s wrong with that place. I really don’t know what it is. It’s a combination of every single aspect of the entire country."

On Leonard Cohen:
"I have a Leonard Cohen cover band called Tea and Oranges that I’m the star of. We haven’t played yet but it’s a whole concept I have going. It’s me and these three girls that I know and two guy friends. We’re going to have a girl named Lady Midnight and then we’re going to have a girl named Marianne. It’s so tasteless, but it’s great. We’re going to play like Iodine and then a lot of New Skin. The really, really sleazy stuff. We haven’t practiced yet though."

The Cutting Room Floor, Vol. 1 No. 2
This time, Alex Kapranos of Franz Ferdinand on dancing:
"We found people wouldn’t dance to bands anymore. We wanted to bring the beats, the dynamics, the power of dance music to the four of us playing live together and rock music. Bring the two things together. We’re not saying you have to dance to the music. But I think what we’re saying is, ‘It’s alright. Move. If you want to dance, it’s okay.’"
Full story in Monday's Post.

Bubba Kerry
Hey! HEY! Would one of my favourite blog heads please say something snarky about this?
John Kerry: "President Clinton was often known as the first black president. I wouldn't be upset if I could earn the right to be the second."

Sasha? Chang? Jay? Gwai Lo? Anybody?

(and see my earlier question on the matter too while you're at it...)

Any guess as to whether Lyor took a paycut? Heh
Several of the 1,000 people turfed by Warner Music this week are discussing their severance packages here. Kinda funny in that kinda sad kinda way. My Monday column will likely discuss why this sorta matters, but sorta doesn't at all. Yes, that contradiction is intentional.

But the question persists: Does it matter?
Credit to PW for pointing this out to me first. Having sufficiently questioned the Jazz pedigree of Norah Jones and Diana Krall, The Globe and Mail decides to question Harry Connick Jr's breeding in Wednesday's paper.

"Yes, but the question persists: Is it jazz?" ponders theatre (?) critic Kamal Al-Solaylee.

For good measure, Kamal elsewhere throws in this little slap: "The same maturity, Connick claims, marks his arrangements for Only You, which, to my ears, sounds overarranged and overproduced."

Well then.

Spring Cleaning and Segregation
Been trying to spruce the place up a bit for all my new German visitors (see below). Bunch of new links at right including Different Kitchen (dunno why it took me so long), Rock and Roll Report, Barlow, ilXor, and Ed Broadbent, of course.

Otherwise, Jay over at Hip Hop Music Dot Com has a nice bit about disco segregation (that links to SFJ's great New Yorker piece).

As luck would have it, my Monday column tackled a different sort of disco segregation. Will post it here soon. For now, Post subscribers can get it here.

The Cutting Room Floor Vol. 1, No. 1
The first in what might become a continuing series featuring stuff people said to me that for whatever reason didn't make it into your morning Post.

In this edition, the Tangiers' Josh Reichmann (full story in tomorrow's paper; sneak peek at new album coming here soon).

On the departure of guitarist Yuri Didrichsons:
"Yuri, I have no idea where he is. He’s like one of my best friends. But I haven’t talked to him. And there’s no bad blood. I just don’t know where he is. We really haven’t heard from him. Like kind of after our last show, I helped put his amp in a cab and it was understood that that was his last show with us cause he needed a major break for music. But when you’ve celebrated someone’s defeats and celebrations and life for a few years and you’re not a kid, that’s a good friend. But, anyway, it’s not your problem. He was a main part of our band, but if his leaving or any one person’s leaving felt like the end of the band, we would’ve ended it."

On the renewed emphasis on lyrics and vocals for the new record:
"I think people enjoyed the delivery and got the gist — which is always the most fun for songs anyway in a sense, except for people that it really matters what they’re saying. But there were people demanding lyrics. Because I think you get little hints that there’s some plot or something going on other than yelping. So for this record, the vocals are not only louder but there was an effort to make that element of writing more decipherable."

On the addition of ex-Guided By Voices drummer Jon McCann:
"Getting someone in who’s first of all mature enough that they’ve done, I mean, really done it before. There’s no question of intention. He’s not unsure about what he’s going to do with us. I don’t know if he’ll play with us forever, but at least he says that. He doesn’t have delusions because he’s toured Europe and thrown up. And it’s really fun to hear the stories and it humbles your idea of what it is to have success."

On the tour rider of one-time tour-mates Frank Black & Co.:
"They had dip and carrots. But they were American so they had lots of kind of tacos or something kind of fried. Why would you want that every night? They had a pretty comfortable existence."

More Gogo/Terrorism is funny
The Globe and Mail stirs from winter hibernation and takes note of the Juno controversy. Paragraphs seven and eleven seem awfully familiar... hmm... where have we read those before... hmm...

Anyway. The only thing more embarrassing than the Junos is apparently some of the coverage of said awards. I don't know Steve Tilley of the Edmonton Sun, so I can't even begin to ponder his motives, but within this story about the Junos coming to Edmonton, you will find this observation:

"We're a Juno-mad town, and yesterday's key Juno announcements (new performers at the telecast, details about the events around town leading up to the big show and other tidbits) packed the house at the venerable downtown bar. A well-placed explosive could have wiped out a good chunk of Edmonton's radio, TV and print media representatives, not to mention key members of the corporate and government communities. Good thing nobody thought of that until now."

Er. Um. Uh. Aren't they arresting people in the States for even thinking things like that?

Not that Steve should be arrested by any means. But when things like this, this, and this, and, oh yeah, this are happening on a regular basis around the world, maybe it's best to keep the terrorism jokes to yourself.

While Sharpton fumes...
John Kerry: "President Clinton was often known as the first black president. I wouldn't be upset if I could earn the right to be the second."

In the above, Democratic presidential candidate John Kerry is being:
a) funny
b) cool
c) offensive
d) stupid

For all my people in Frankfurt...
Pop (All Nipple): Now 1% German.
Well sorta. For awhile there my Site Meter stats said 1% of my readership was German. I haven't yet studied the issue, but me thinks it has something to do with my incessant discussion of Leslie Feist and what we all hope will be a glorious new album from her in May.
As a goodwill gesture to my new German fans I offer this - easily the funniest thing I have ever been sent by e-mail that had anything remotely to do with Germany. Ever.
P.S. Dear Germans... Have you heard the Leslie Feist? What do you make of her?

Ahem...
Ex-UWO Gazette Arts Editors: also here.
And Ex-UWO Gazette writer here.
Frig. Kids these day with their blogs and whatnot. Get out of the house will you!? Go to the mall. Maybe you'll see Avril.

Gogo No-Go
Karen Bliss digs up the dirt on what exactly happened with the Junos' Blues Album of the Year nomination. Apparently one of the albums wasn't "original" enough. And, of course, no one figured this out until weeks after the nominations had been announced.

In Juno-related news, the Weakerthans say they're more than happy with their nomination. Sort of. In a "guilty pleasure" sort of way if nothing else.

The way things are going though, I dare say they shouldn't get too comfortable with that nod. Hmm. Has their originality been confirmed yet?

(Completely insular note: Good to see ex-UWO Gazette Arts Editor Megan O'Toole - assuming it's the same Megan O'Toole - still writing about music. Ex-UWO Gazette Arts Editors: they're everywhere.)

I think we're alone now...
Canada's bratty kid sister is taking a lot of crap for this. But let's consider lil' Avril's options right now.
Anyone who saw her arena tour last year knows that even though she can fill the seats, she can't fill the stage. At the same time, smaller venues - bars, concert halls, and the like - aren't suitable for her younger audience.
So take her to the mall. Kids love malls. The acoustic thing will give her a chance to at least feign credibility. And the 48 hour notice gimmick will make each show an event (front page of the local paper, hapless music critics forced to waste afternoons jockeying for space with 14-year-old girls in front of The Gap only to be distracted by half-off sale on fuzzy sweaters).
Now if we could just do something about the actual music...

I sometimes wanna die...
Sasha Frere-Jones gives a shout out to Tara Sloane, who plays Lee's Palace this Saturday. Should be a good show. As long as you show up after Tal Bachman has left the stage.
I interviewed Tara for the UWO Gazette back when I was young, naive and full of hope. I remember that she was nice. And that all the indie geeks in my dorm had waking indie wet dreams when I told them I'd be speaking to her. And I haven't the faintest idea why I'm telling you this...

All gone grey
Rayner on the Grey Album: "It deserves to be heard. And, of course, thanks to the ubiquitousness of Internet file-swapping, it will be heard, whether or not a gracious pardon from Sir Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr is ever forthcoming."

Lies, Damn Lies, and Kevin Drew
Kevin Drew of Broken Social Scene told Pop (All Nipple) not so long ago that Leslie Feist's new album had been done since October. He, I am now told, is a big, fat, hairy liar. Feist's album, apparently, has just recently been completed. And will be ready for North American release May 11.
While you wait, take a moment to consider SFJ's Best of 2004-to-date.
Pop (All Nipple): your round-the-clock source for completely relevant Leslie Feist speculation.

One small step for blues music, one giant leap into irrelevance...
Next year, me thinks, Juno organizers will skip the big nomination announcement. Heck, maybe they'll just skip nominations all together and go straight to the winners. Nominations, it seems, are just too troublesome for these folks.
So it was again late Friday that the Canadian Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences announced another mistake. This time, the blues band Rockit 88 and their album Too Much Fun had been erroneously left off the list for Blues Album of the Year. So there will be six nominees in that category to go along with the six nominees for Album of the Year required after Nickelback was left off the list. No reason for the omission was provided, but Blues Album of the Year is not determined by "sales" so there's no blaming the independent accounting firm this time.
Pay close attention to the attempt at media control hinted at in the above CP story. According to CP, the brief statement announcing the change was "issued late Friday after most [CARAS] representatives had left for the weekend." I actually didn't receive my copy of the statement until after the CP story had run - 5:24pm to be exact.
They did much the same thing when they announced the "data entry error" that resulted in the Nickelback mistake. According to my e-mail records, I received their release on the matter at 5:03pm.
That automatically makes it too late for The Globe's Review section. And late enough in the day that the Star and Post have already set their arts coverage. As a result, it forces entertainment editors and reporters to try and sneak it into their respective papers' A sections (just try and tell a News editor who's already short on space why he should drop that story on Adscam to make room for the earth-shattering Juno controversy).
CARAS' Friday release was late enough that you will find no mention of it in Saturday's Post. Nor, so far, have I found it reported in The Globe. By Monday, it may very well be too old for either paper.
The Junos are now like the Bush White House. Trying desperately to stem the tide of embarrassing stories long enough to make it to Awards Night/Election Day.
Because aside from this week's announcement of Alanis Morissette as host, the post-nomination announcement story for the Junos has been this:
A data entry error results in Nickelback's Long Road being denied a nomination for Album of the Year. Rather than correct the mistake and drop the undeserving album that had taken Nickelback's place, CARAS decides to go with six nominees. This leads to questions about the nomination process for so-called "sales-based" categories. In the process of attempting to answer these questions, CARAS admits that the nominations are not based on "sales" but instead determined by the number of albums shipped by record labels to retailers. This brings them a stinging rebuke from Larry LeBlanc of Billboard magazine.
Next it is reported that the Juno nominations are not resulting in increased sales for nominees. And now CARAS admits publicly that a second award nomination has been compromised. But without explanation as to how and why - questions that have to be asked, especially in light of the fact that this second category has nothing to do with "sales."
All of this has been recorded for history's sake here, here, here and here.
Pop (All Nipple): your round-the-clock source for completely irrelevant Juno news.

Ryan Malcolm Disaster Watch, Week Eleven
For the record, Avril Lavigne's Let Go - in its 90th week on the charts - placed higher this week than Mr. Malcom's Home did in its 11th. Place your bets now as to whether it will have fallen entirely out of the top 100 by next week...
Week 1 - #4
Week 2 - #10
Week 3 - #17
Week 4 - #23
Week 5 - #25
Week 6 - #32
Week 7 - #42
Week 8 - #45
Week 9 - #55
Week 10 - #69
Week 11 - #82

WHAT MOMMA?!
Lovely lass that Miss Mi-KAI. Found a live bootleg of a performance she did at Joe's Pub in New York last year. If I had the faintest idea how to do so, I'd offer some of it here. Maybe I'll send it over to Fluxblog or something. In the meantime, I'll put it in my shared folder on Soulseek - screen name agwherry. She sings one song in German and another in Japanese for shit's sake! Go geddit!

It's pronounced Mi-KAI
Or Muh-KYE.
Much to say about Nellie McKay - above and beyond what's been said about her here already. In the meantime, some reading and a little listening.
NY Observer's Jason Gay sounds like he's in love.
The NYT takes her out for a night on the town.
Sony's Mitchell Cohen discusses discovering her. (Try to ignore the fact that further on in that interview he talks excitedly of listening to Savage Garden.)
Queery digs up her school records.
This is a public radio show she did last May (be patient).
And finally - the Time Out New York piece that started it all.

"This is why I am so upset ... he was given a chance and made the most of it"
I'm always hesitant to read too much into these immediate aftermath stories from the Toronto Sun (facts and truth have a funny way of injecting themselves into the story as the dust settles), but this is their latest on the death of rap manager Elliott Reid-Thomas.
Meanwhile, The Toronto Star does a fine job of wrapping up reaction from industry officials who knew Reid-Thomas.
And here's the official appeal for assistance from the Toronto police.
Let's hope the Canadian hip-hop community - and, heck, maybe even the Junos - are planning something to formally honour him.

Puzzling and Unfunny
Hey, Gwai Lo noticed. I'm touched. Really. I'm glad he found something worth talking about in that last column. Not sure if I have yet.
I disagree with him though on the School Spirit skits (and, as a result, find myself in agreement with SFJ). My objection isn't with the basic idea of a rap album being contradictory. We might actually need more of that - or maybe more indication that rappers, like Kanye, feel conflicted and self-conscious.
My objection is based solely on the fact that a) I don't particularly like skits on rap records - or any records for that matter save for an outright comedy record and b) I don't think the skits work all that well on Kanye's record.
Maybe if they'd been sprinkled throughout - like a running gag - they might have flowed with the rest of the album. But, as is, they form sort of a rut in the middle of the record that I inevitably skip over.
Gwai Lo's right about Last Call. It's long. But it's interesting and funny. Not really something you're going to listen to everytime you play the record, but worth a listen. Or two. Or three.
Still wish Kanye'd kept My Way on the record though.

No sex please
Me thinks Edward O found Avril's Abstinence Anthem, Don't Tell Me, here. As a wise man once said in a faux Scottish accent - "Is'not bad, but is'not grate either." (bonus: name that movie)
Lyrically she's still so limited:
"Get out of my head,
Get off of my bed,
Yeah, that's what I said."
And the vocal tics are still there - "Time" becomes "Tye-e-e-e-ime." "Away" becomes "Awaye-e-e-eh."
But she (and/or her handlers) can still write a decent hook. And the subject matter is, er, provocative. I guess. But does anyone want to think about lil' Avril having (or not having), er, sex (shudder)? And hasn't this abstinence thing been done to death already? I thought she was supposed to be the anti-Britney?
Oh, but I guess Avril really means it when she claims virginity. Or does she even claim it?
Worse still, does this also mean we're in for a year of questions about Avril's virginity?
And, in any event, when we've got someone as truly interesting as Nellie McKay to fixate upon why would we even bother with Avril, virgin or not?

Just in...
Edward O has a review of the new Avril Lavigne single, Don't Tell Me. Now to figure out where he found it... (and why I'm bothering to post about this...)

This is the record of which the Prophet Jigga foretold
Not particularly proud of this one (damn, probably not supposed to admit that, am I?), but latest Post column is apparently available for free, so you might as well take a look.
Considers Kanye West's brilliance - an extended discussion of points previously mentioned here.
If the link goes dead I'll post it in full here.
(On a side note I can always tell I've written something smart when Gwai Lo takes the time to mention it. No mention of this yet would seem to confirm my fears.)

Come On Pilgrim
The Pixies sell out. Scalpers storm Ebay. Sigh.

Burning Down The House
As far as I could tell - from the back of a sweaty, smelly Horseshoe Tavern - the boys in Franz Ferdinand are alright. Swell even. Possibly keen.
And apparently they're going to be opening for Morrissey. So they must be doing something right.

Elliott Reid-Thomas, RIP
A wild weekend in Toronto claims the life of Elliott Reid-Thomas, manager and defacto member of Canadian rap group Ghetto Concept.
More info on his death here and here.
More info on Ghetto Concept here, here, here, here and here.
And you can see their all-the-more-poignant video for Rest in Peace here.

Ryan Malcolm Disaster Watch, Week Ten - Special Beavis and Butthead Edition
Heh. Heh. 69. Heh. Heh. Heh.
Week 1 - #4
Week 2 - #10
Week 3 - #17
Week 4 - #23
Week 5 - #25
Week 6 - #32
Week 7 - #42
Week 8 - #45
Week 9 - #55
Week 10 - #69

Weekend Wrap/Cleaning out the closet
Sasha Frere-Jones on Kanye West.

Meet The Press: I salute any show that can prove to me that Arnold is smarter than I thought in the first half hour, while, in the second half hour, convince me Nader is even more insane than previously believed.

Broken Social Scene's new disc of b-sides and rarities, Beehives, is warm and lovely like a hot bath.

RJD2's new stuff is also like a bath. But a rather lukewarm one at best. And maybe a touch too relaxed.

Controller.Controller's History might just teach Toronto's legions of skinny white kids to dance (no small accomplishment). Can't understand why they're not Carl Wilson's "cup of tea."

Nellie McKay's debut, Get Away From Me, is startling - quite unlike anything. Ever (in that it's like so many things that have never before been married). But anybody who can write a song about Liberal guilt that references "Senator Wellstone" is aiight by me. As I say in Monday's Post, think Norah Jones on crack. A hyper-literate, exuberant, street-smart, possibly insane 19-year-old pianist who can sigh a torch song as readily as she raps. Un. Be. Liveable. And the back story. Check the bio. Cousin of Dylan Thomas? Dabbled in stand-up comedy? Maybe the start of something really, really interesting.

Meanwhile, Ben Rayner quite rightly takes JACK FM to task.

Various impressions of the Conservative leadership debate.

The NDP continues to push the idea that Paul Martin is a Brian Mulroney for the 21st Century.

Ed Broadbent has a blog.

But, most importantly, my Wolverines still have hope.

Investigative reporting
JamShowbiz (I outright refuse to put the lame exclamation point in there) has a very long-winded story about the Junos that somehow manages to say absolutely nothing. It's apparently supposed to be about how the Junos don't really help artists in terms of record sales, but it also manages to trot out the tired old argument that you have to make it big in the States before Canadian audiences take notice and then Choclair professes that this year's Junos herald the emergence of some great new Canadian artists. For instance, er, Kazzer?
Listen, if this year's Junos were all about heralding the new wave of outstanding Canadian talent, Broken Social Scene, Stars, the Stills, Unicorns, Hidden Cameras, Jim Guthrie, (as well as Buck 65, Hawksley Workman and Rufus Wainwright) etc, etc, etc... would be all over the nomination list. Make no mistake (and I know this sounds terribly cheesy), we are experiencing a truly special time in Canadian music. But it has nothing to do with the Junos.
And second of all, if you really want to talk about the ramifications of a Juno nomination, how about looking at the actual numbers - in this case the chart positions because we don't have the actual sales stats (something Jam most likely has, but doesn't publish - for whatever reason).

Post-Juno nominations:

Sarah McLachlan moved up one spot, from #8 to #7.
Nickelback lost one, from #11 to #12.
Michael Buble gained one, from #24 to #23.
Nelly Furtado lost four, from #31 to #35.
Billy Talent dropped two, from #38 to #40.
Three Days Grace lost nineteen spots, from #35 to #54.
Celine Dion dropped three, from #87 to #90.
Sam Roberts remained the same at #91.
Finger Eleven lost fourteen, from #79 to #93.

To review then:
Truly outstanding talent neglected? Check.
Nomination process in dispute? Check.
Tangible evidence that no one's paying attention? Check.

One of maybe three things will happen now:
1) The Junos will soldier on oblivious.
2) Juno organizers will realize their faults and dramatically overhaul our national music awards.
3) A new award will be launched to fill the void.

My hunch: Keep your eye out for number three.

Actually...
... to be fair, 14,000 was probably a conservative estimate. Because, according to her label, Norah Jones' Feels Like Home has debuted at number one in 16 different countries now.

They are: the United Kingdom, United States, Ireland, Germany, France, Norway, Denmark, Austria, Holland, Iceland, Italy, Portugal, Switzerland, Canada, Columbia, and New Zealand.

Granted, it takes sales of just over two dozen records to make #1 in Iceland, but still...

Meanwhile, her year-old debut rose to #18 in the US, #16 in the UK, #2 in Ireland, #3 in Germany, #8 in France, and #3 in Denmark.

Ridiculous.

The full self-congratulatory blow job from her label here.

Note: If you hear even the tiniest peep from an EMI official over the next few weeks lamenting the decline of the record industry, beat them furiously about the head.

Various artists
Pitchfork reviews the first Broken Social Scene record, Feel Good Lost.
Since We Last Spoke - the new stuff from RJD2 - is out there. Haven't listened to it yet.
As is the Broken Social Scene b-sides and rarities collection, Beehives. How did Arts & Crafts let that get out? Anyway. Listening to it now. It's loverly.
Have spent a great deal of time re-listening to The Walkmen's Bows and Arrows and like it more and more. They're in Toronto March 3.
MarkP has started writing for the aforementioned Pitchfork. Soon he too will be turning obscure emo basement rappers into world-beating super-heroes.
The Backstreet boys: apparently not dead. And counting on Clive Davis to save them.
Ben Moody is now working with Kelly Clarkson. And he's been getting songwriting tips from Avril.
And in the time it took to read this post, Norah Jones sold another 14,000 albums.

... gosh this new version of Lover's Spit is purty...

Lies, damn lies, statistics...
I keep telling myself I should leave the politics to Wells, Coyne and Cosh. But I haven't seen this anywhere else so I figured I'd offer it up.

By now most Canadian readers will have seen this week's Ipsos-Reid poll which shows the Liberals continue to slide. Nationally Ipsos-Reid puts the parties as so:
Liberals 35%
Conservatives 27%
NDP 17%
Bloc Quebecois 11%
Green Party 5%

But the most interesting numbers, at least to me, are the regional breakdowns. Now, be warned, the samples aren't terribly large, so there's lots of room for error. Still, they present an interesting picture of our divided little country.

B.C. - Conservative 32; Liberal 27; NDP 27; Green 9
Alberta - Conservative 58; Liberal 20; NDP 8; Green 2
Prairies - NDP 34; Liberal 29; Conservative 28; Green 2
Ontario - Liberal 41; Conservative 26; NDP 21; Green 7
Quebec - Bloc 45; Liberal 31; Conservative 10; NDP 8; Green 3
Atlantic - Liberal 47; Conservative 32; NDP 12; Green 1

The Liberals remain the only true national party, but they're only able to dominate two regions - Atlantic Canada and the all-important, riding-rich Ontario. The Conservatives take Alberta. The Bloc take Quebec. And the Prairies and B.C. are virtual dead heats. Imagine if this country worked on some sort of Electoral College System.

Now also imagine those results if the NDP could somehow bring the Greens into the fold without driving away any of their own voters. Suddenly the NDP leads in British Columbia, extends their lead in the Prairies, takes second in Ontario, and third in Quebec.

Even without the Greens, the NDP seem bonafide contenders in the Prairies and British Columbia and assured of stealing some seats in Ontario. A far rosier picture than that presented by the rather stagnant national number - the one J. Kelly was bemoaning recently.

Then again, this analysis only gives them 16 seats after the next federal election.

"I am the music"
Billboard interview with Timba. Pardon the CAPS. Too lazy to change them.

Q: WHAT ARE THE BIGGEST PROBLEMS FACING THE MUSIC INDUSTRY TODAY, AND WHAT DO YOU THINK ARE THE SOLUTIONS?
A: There’s too much being developed at once. There’s new software, new music and new programs that come out too quickly. By the time something new comes out, people are ready to move on to the next thing. That’s why people’s attention spans are short.
There are so many sites from which to download music illegally that less people want to go out and buy it. I don’t know what the solution to that would be, but I think first the record companies need to lower prices.
The “instant-hit” mentality can mean instant failure. I wish the record companies would put more effort into artist development.
I also think the major-label mergers are crazy. It’s almost like they’re playing Monopoly.
Q: WHAT ARE THE BIGGEST TECHNOLOGY CHALLENGES FACING MUSIC PRODUCERS?
A: I don’t think there’s any technology right now that can challenge the producers who are good enough to do what they do. The ones who are the best can adapt to changes in technology.
Q: DO YOU THINK PRODUCERS ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN ARTISTS, AND HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOUR PRODUCING STYLE?
A: I think producers are bigger than the artists. We’re responsible for the sound that they have. We give them direction and bring something out of the artists that they may not realize that they have.
When I came on the scene, I was one of the people who started bringing the attention back to producers. I bought the flavor back to the meat, and I opened a lot of doors for artists and other producers.
My producing style is this: “I am the music.” The artist is the frontman for the producer.
Q: YOU’VE BEEN QUOTED AS SAYING THAT YOU WANT TO WALK AWAY FROM HIP-HOP. WHY?
A: It’s not just hip-hop. I want to walk away from music, period. To me, the music business is too saturated, and there’s too much politics with the record companies and radio.
I’m not walking away right away. I’ll probably do another Missy Elliott album. But there’s too much going on with the illegal downloading and other problems in the music industry.
And I’ve gotten bored with hip-hop. I’m about to totally change my whole image in 2004. It’s going to shock people.
Q: WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO THAT WILL BE SO SHOCKING?
A: I can’t say right now, but it will involve endorsements and TV.
Q: IF HIP-HOP HAS BECOME BORING, WHAT KIND OF MUSIC EXCITES YOU, AND WHAT TYPE OF MUSIC DO YOU THINK CAN HELP THE INDUSTRY OUT OF ITS SLUMP?
A: I like Coldplay — that’s real music to me. I like what the Neptunes are doing. But after a while, everything sounds the same — even my stuff.
Q: YOU’RE A PRODUCER, SONGWRITER, ENGINEER, REMIXER, HEAD OF A RECORD LABEL AND AN ARTIST. WHAT ARE THE MOST IMPORTANT THINGS YOU’VE LEARNED, AND WHICH ROLE IS THE MOST SATISFYING TO YOU?
A: The most important thing I’ve learned is to always have that ambition to keep fresh and always challenge yourself. I’m always competing with myself.
I spend most of my time making music, but I can’t say what role is most important to me. It depends on how I’m feeling and what I’m doing at the time.
Q: WHAT ARE THE BIGGEST MISTAKES ARTISTS ARE MAKING RIGHT NOW?
A: Just trying to flood the market with too much of themselves. When their record sales don’t really match all the attention they get, that’s when you know they’re overexposed.
Q: WHAT’S YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
A: Not being hot anymore.
Q: WHAT IS GOING TO BE THE MOST IMPORTANT MUSIC TREND FOR 2004?
A: Whatever it is, I hope I can set it.

As seen on Can't Stop Won't Stop
Jeff is right. Joe Torre is a lameduck. Add that to the Potential Problem tally. Also include Sins Against Don Zimmer. Steinbrenner drove the Zim out of town this summer. Surely the baseball gods will not look kindly upon this and smite him. Smite him good.

Get well soon Mr. Chang (by the way, I saw numbers today that indicate the Yankees do indeed make money - lots of it). Normally, I'd send flowers, but today - special one time only offer - I have a column on Justin Timberlake to offer. Other, non-sick, people are free to read as well, of course. Note: May make you dislike Justin Timberlake even more than you did previously. Or, if you previously enjoyed the J.Tim, it may make you second guess yourself. At least that's the hope. Enjoy.

What a good boy: Justin Timberlake can do no wrong. Just ask him. Or his mom
Monday, February 16, 2004
Aaron Wherry National Post

Like all the great male pop idols before him -- Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, Michael Jackson, Davy Jones -- Justin Timberlake has learned to balance the illicit and the innocent. The bad boy and the angel. Able to titillate your daughters one moment and charm their mothers the next. All the while maintaining the respect, if not the begrudged admiration, of the older, cooler brother. Dad doesn't quite fit into this scenario, but, for the sake of argument, we'll say he's in the living room listening to old Johnny Cash records.

What differentiates Timberlake from his predecessors -- or maybe what has been attempted before, but only he has mastered -- is the way he goes about accomplishing this duplicity and the unwitting accomplices he makes of the women in his life. Timberlake, surely more than any other pop star in recent memory, is defined by the women around him; his interactions with them establishing his paradoxical sides. "Interactions" being one word for it. "Manipulations" being another. Janet Jackson discovered this approximately 48 hours too late.

"That was fun," Timberlake told the first interviewer to reach him backstage at the Super Bowl after that infamous little matter of the nipple. "We love giving you something to talk about." This was the bad boy. The edgy, provocative, unapologetic risktaker.

Two days later, Timberlake had found another TV camera and a perfect opportunity to claim innocence where previously there had been only cool nonchalance.

"When what happened, happened, I was completely shocked and appalled," he proclaimed. "I was completely embarrassed. I don't feel like I need publicity like that and I wouldn't want to be involved in a stunt, especially not a stunt of this magnitude.

"I do understand how unfortunate this is and I think that it's the most frustrating thing for me," he added, noting that his family was embarrassed by the incident.

In short order, Jackson had been abandoned to shoulder the blame alone; Timberlake the hapless victim of a "wardrobe malfunction" and a manipulative older woman.

Britney Spears (not to mention Kylie Minogue, whose posterior he grabbed last year to much fanfare but little backlash in, er, cheekier Britain) must have been suffering flashbacks. When she and Timberlake were together, he was with the squeaky clean 'N Sync. It was important -- for both of them, mind you -- to present a wholesome image. They were madly in love. Forever smiling. And entirely virginal -- this last part made more of an issue for avowed abstinent Spears.

Around the time they broke up, Timberlake was preparing to launch a solo career; a new image in order. So, quite innocently of course, he found himself on a radio show admitting to performing oral sex on Spears (he would later apologize for this, forever mindful of the need to balance the illicit and innocent). In addition to facial hair and some cool new hip-hop friends, Timberlake gained edgier, often older, girlfriends including Alyssa Milano and, ironically enough, Jackson.

But the masterstroke was hit single Cry Me A River and the song's accompanying video. In song, Timberlake told of an unfaithful lover -- a particularly compelling tale given the all-too-conveniently leaked rumours that Spears' infidelity had ended their relationship.

The sympathy that resulted allowed Timberlake to get away with one of the darkest music videos in recent memory. Heartbroken, but defiant and seeking vengeance, Timberlake breaks into the home of his former lover (a petite, blond Spears look-alike) stalks her as she showers, and videotapes himself in bed with another woman. Creepy stuff, but all forgiven of course because the real villain -- the unfaithful Spears -- had already been identified.

And even if you were a little wierded out -- no worries, Justin explained. The look-alike, the remarkable similarities to "real" life; all happenstance, pure unadulterated coincidence.

And, well, if you believe that, you're P.T. Barnum's kind of customer. But as Barnum himself might note, it doesn't so much matter what you believe, as long as you believe in something enough to buy Timberlake's next album. And, make no mistake, the focus is forever Timberlake -- Britney's post-breakup career paling by comparison, Kylie still little more than a curiosity on this side of the Atlantic, Janet the latest addition to America's ever-expanding Axis of Evil. Justin alone reaps the rewards.

And when all else fails, there will always be Mom -- the trump card Timberlake plays whenever his image needs polishing. When it came time to sit down with Barbara Walters, there she was telling us what a sweet, young man she had birthed. Feature story needed to accompany that shirtless Rolling Stone cover (how very illicit) -- better make sure Mom has ample time to chat up the interviewer. If every other woman in his life (Hey Cameron, feeling nervous yet?) is a temporary tool of convenience, his mother is an eternal source of damage control.

And there she was last Sunday at the Grammy Awards, all boobs -- er, smiles -- in support of her beleaguered son. Busting, er, beaming with pride was she as lil' Justin strode to the stage to express again his dismay with Jackson's nipple and accept a Grammy statuette for, you guessed it, Cry Me a River.

The Empire Strikes Out
Why even bother? Scrap the 162 game season, the divisional playoffs, the league championships and the World Series - just cut straight to the champagne-soaked trophy presentation, the vile George Steinbrenner accepting what might as well be his permanent property from the frail grasp of equally vile Bud Selig.
The New York Yankees will win the 2004 World Series. This much we know. Unless we don't. And they don't. In which case, well, it'll be time to re-evaluate. Everything.
This much we do know - on paper the New York Yankees have assembled what is quite possibly the most formidable collection of talent in Major League Baseball - if not pro sports - history. The starting line-up will feature eight former all-stars and several future hall of famers (feeling somewhat inadequate yet Enrique Wilson?). Sluggers like Hideki Matsui, who would find himself in the heart of any other team's order, will likely bat somewhere in the neighbourhood of eighth. Theoritically the Yankees one through nine will look something like this (last season's stats included):

CF Kenny Lofton .296/12/46
SS Derek Jeter .324/10/52
3B Alex Rodriguez .298/47/118
RF Gary Sheffield .330/39/132
1B Jason Giambi .250/41/107
DH Bernie Williams .263/15/64
C Jorge Posada .281/30/101
LF Hideki Matsui .287/16/106
2B Enrique Wilson .230/3/15

Oh, and the pitching. Well the starters will be Mike Mussina (17-8, 3.40), Kevin Brown (14-9, 2.39), Jon Lieber (20-6, 3.80 in 2001, his last full season), Javier Vazquez (13-12, 3.24) and, reportedly, Greg Maddux (16-11, 3.96). With the exception of Lieber, all would enter the season as the ace for most any other club in the majors.

The middle relief is outstanding with proven arms like Paul Quantrill, Steve Karsay, and Tom Gordon. And then there's Mariano Rivera, one of the greatest closers in history.

Still, there's every reason to believe the Yankees will fail in their pursuit of a World Series title. And if/when they do, shock of all shocks, Major League Baseball will be all the better for having put up with Steinbrenner's Evil Empire.

Potential Problem #1: Locker Room Cohesion
Good luck Joe Torre. Good luck appeasing the egos. Good luck dividing up the spotlight. How will all of these new faces get along? Who will emerge as leaders in a room full of stars? Who will be the first to complain about not getting enough at bats? Which pitcher will be the first to complain about a lack of innings? Which stars will be willing to take on secondary roles? How will a room full of guys used to be big fishes in smaller ponds adjust to being just another Yankee? It's an internal circus waiting to happen.

Potential Problem #2: Competition
Nevermind that the Yankees have to beat out an entire league's worth of competition to win it all, let's see how they handle the toughest - most improved - division in baseball. The Boston Red Sox, let's not forget, have loaded up on talent as well. The Orioles and Blue Jays, each in their own way, have done the same. The Yankees will not be afforded the luxury of cruising to a division title. There will be no chance to relax in September with a big lead over second place. And let's not forget the at least potentially formidable teams in Oakland, Kansas City and Chicago. Night in and night out there will be challenging opponents to face. And that is likely to take a toll.

Potential Problem #3: Injuries.
This is an old team - the majority of the team's stars over 30 years of age and many of them prone to injury. The pitching staff is of most concern. Jon Lieber hasn't thrown a pitch in a year and a half. Kevin Brown's stay in Los Angeles was plagued by nagging injuries. Greg Maddux is on the downside of his career. And even Mariano Rivera has begun to show a degree of frailty. A couple arms go down and suddenly this is a very different team.

Potential Problem #4: Pressure and Expectation.
New York has crushed far greater men than Gary Sheffield. And this year the crush of expectation and scrutiny will be unlike any ever seen before. As Tom Kurkjian at ESPN.com noted, New York sports writers might as well kiss their familiies goodbye for the next year. This squad will be a travelling media frenzy of Lewinsky proportions (pun sort of intended). The smallest dysfunction will be front page news. The slightest slump magnified ten fold. If this team doesn't dominte from day one it will be villified and deconstructed by hometown scribes fevered with expectation and voraciously attacked by out of town reporters eager to see them fail.

Potential Problem #5: Enrique Wilson.
Alright. Not really a problem, in the classic sense. But in the bizarro world of Major League Baseball circa February 2004, some are already questioning whether he should be replaced in light of the team's other upgrades - as if he has become less of a player as his teammates became greater. If they keep him, he will become a convenient target should he be called upon in anything approximating a clutch situation.

If you believe in any of the above, as I do, you have every reason to believe the Yankees are doomed to fail (as I do). When (screw "if" - let's be bold) they do, it will surely be time to rejoice. For not only will the Yankees have by then given us a series of fringe benefits to their success, but, in failure, they will have ushered in a new era in baseball.

Fringe Benefit #1: The Luxury Tax.
Due to the luxury tax, every dollar Steinbrenner spends from here on in, means more money for small market clubs. Will this money turn the San Diego Padres into a dynasty over night? No. But, if spent wisely (see the Toronto Blue Jays use of a mere $50 million this year), it can surely be the start of something good. If nothing else it will help cover some of the crippling losses. In either case, it's money. Something every team (other than the Yankees and Red Sox) could use more of.

Fringe Benefit #2: United in hate.
Everywhere today, Brewers fans, Orioles fans, Tiger fans, and all the rest are calling up their Boston-faithful friends and exclaming that finally - finally - they understand. Not that the Yankees were particularly popular pre-ARod, but now all fans have reason to hate the Imperialist Yankees. The Yankees are the United States. The rest of the majors is the rest of the world (if you buy the talk of rampant Anti-Americanism). Major League Baseball, now more than ever, has a villain. A loathsome, greedy beast to be boo'd lustily. Now, more than ever, teams can stand by their underdog heroes, forever hopeful of a triumph over the big, bad giant to the north (or, in the case of Toronto and Montreal, south).

Fringe Benefit #3: Hate, but awe.
We hate them. But we'll still likely buy a couple tickets to check them out when they're in town. Even if we know our team is bound to get clobbered, the chance to see so many stars in one place will likely be too much to pass up. If only to try out our new Jeter jeers, we will be there. The Yankees will become a sort of Evil Harlem Globetrotters of baseball. Not so much in town to spread joy and good humour, but to incite hatred and violence. Not unlike the Republican Party. All the same, they'll likely sell out every ballpark they visit.

And now... the big ultimate, life-altering benefit to the Yankees and their inevitable demise:

It will be the final strike against the theory that you can buy a championship.

You would have thought that the Florida Marlins would have proved this to George last year. Heck, you'd figure George could just look cross town to the NHL's New York Rangers. But, if George has to learn the hard way, so be it.

When the Yankees fall short of a World Series title it will prove once and for all that money can't buy championships. Money certainly doesn't hurt. But it guarantees nothing.

And failure on a grand scale will prove to owners - or at least those who haven't already figured it out - that spending within your limits, making wise acquisitions, planning for the future, and meticulous building are the keys to success. Smart management breeds success. Success breeds profits. Profits breed spending. But only when coupled with the smart management that started it all, does spending breed championships.

More teams will follow the lead of Toronto and Oakland (note that Los Angeles has already moved to install another Beane disciple as general manager). Fiscal restraint and long-term vision - because they make both business and baseball sense - will seem all the more appealing. Fewer owners will be willing to spend tens of millions of dollars every four summers in hopes of loading up for one big run, only to suffer repeated years of mediocrity, smaller crowds, lower revenues, etc...

Which isn't to say that George Steinbrenner and Brian Cashman aren't smart. They're brilliant actually. Especially George. All major market advantages aside, he has shown remarkable smarts, courage and ambition in building such an expansive empire. And Brian Cashman proves that a smart baseball man is needed to ensure money is spent wisely (see the Baltimore Orioles' track record with free agents). But they've gotten greedy. Their off-season is one of hubris. Each successive acquistion only increasing their already insatiable appetite for impact superstars. But their sight has exceeded their reach. Or words to that effect. They have not so much built a team, as purchased a number of expensive parts with little to no regard to how they'll all work together.

They will fail. They MUST fail. And baseball will be all the better for them having tried.

Or so we hope. And, in February, that's all anbody's got.

Thoughts?

Fuzzy math
Below you'll find the latest on the Juno nomination controversy. Worth noting that this is not the first time the Junos have screwed up the nomination process (but the first time it's led to them admitting their "sales" awards are based on albums shipped, not albums sold).
In 1995, a similar "miscalculation" left 54.40 off the list for best alternative album. Shortly after the nominations were officially announced the error was detected and the band's Smilin' Buddha Cabaret added to the list, alongside albums from Eric's Trip, Our Lady Peace, King Cobb Steelie, Rose Chronicles, and Sloan.
Two years before that, the Junos were forced to take away a nomination from Mitsou after it was discovered her album, Heading West, did not meet the 80 per cent French requirement for Francophone album of the year.

Juno criteria under fire after Nickelback debacle: Nominees for album of the year determined by CDs shipped, not sold
Monday, February 16, 2004
Aaron Wherry National Post

In the wake of the Canadian Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences admitting that a "data entry error" compromised the Juno Award nominations for album of the year, one critic has assailed its nomination criteria as "outrageous" and inaccurate.

Last week, CARAS added Nickelback's The Long Road to the nominees for album of the year, admitting a data entry error had kept the band off the original list. As a result, this year's Junos will have six nominees, instead of the usual five, competing for album of the year. It also means one album will continue to hold a nomination it does not deserve (CARAS refuses to acknowledge which album that is).

Nominations in that category are based solely, CARAS had said, on record sales. Initial figures tallied by an independent firm showed the top five sellers during the eligibility period to be albums from Michael Buble, Celine Dion, Nelly Furtado, Sarah McLachlan and Sam Roberts.

Further investigation showed Nickelback's The Long Road had sold enough copies to qualify.

But CARAS later acknowledged that album of the year nominations are determined by the number of albums shipped by record labels to retailers -- not the number of albums sold to customers.

Shipped numbers often differ from those collected by Nielsen SoundScan, which tracks CD sales at point of purchase.

"That's outrageous. Nobody does it by albums shipped anymore. I can't believe that," said Billboard's Canadian bureau chief, Larry LeBlanc. "We've had Nielsen SoundScan in this country since 1997, which gives an accurate tallying of album sales because it's run through a system in the stores."

According to Nielsen SoundScan numbers quoted to the National Post by a music industry source, Nelly Furtado's Folklore has sold the fewest of all nominees for album of the year; in fact, it has sold fewer than several albums that were not nominated.

"There's no perfect mouse trap," a CARAS spokeswoman responded when asked about concerns over the Juno nomination process.

"It's unbelievable that they would base any kind of popularity on ship-out figures," LeBlanc added. "Ship-out figures can be manipulated, they can be switched around to look better for almost anything, and ship-out doesn't really show anything but what went out of the branch. They are not a true indicator of actual sales. And one of the reasons why the industry demanded something like SoundScan was the inaccuracy of ship-out figures and the cloudy view of what a ship-out figure can show. Ship-out figures are not accurate. It's as simple as that."

"The only one we use is scanned data," said Humphrey Kadaner, president of HMV in North America. "To me, that's the true measure."

The Juno Awards will be presented April 4 in Edmonton.