Axl and the Banshees

[x-posted at Gelf]

In an excellent review of Guns N’ Roses’ excellent new album, Chuck Klosterman writes, “The weirdest (yet most predictable) aspect of Chinese Democracy is the way 60 percent of the lyrics seem to actively comment on the process of making the album itself.” I’ll see Chuck’s point and raise him—the reviews of Axl’s opus also spend 60 percent of their space commenting on the process of making the album.

Of course, we shouldn’t judge the reviewers too critically since they rarely get 17 years and $13 million to work with. But one thing that keeps recurring in the assessments of Chinese Democracy, in addition to those two numbers, is the phrase “banshee [noun].”

  • Spin (on the album’s title track and first single): “Once the overture of muffled voices, ominous drums, and plinky Edge-ish guitar gives way to a thick, muscular four-chord riff and that Axl banshee wail, only the most stubbornly jaded will manage to suppress the goosebump reflex.”
  • Entertainment Weekly: “At times it’s possible to hear the world-changing CD that Rose—whose banshee howl remains gloriously intact—must have had in his tightly braided skull all these years.”
  • Slate: “On Chinese Democracy, his voice is still an amazing, bludgeoning instrument, rising from demonic low rumble to piercing banshee wail.”
  • TimeOut: “The only salient elements throughout are Axl’s outlandish banshee howl and numerous ludicrous guitar solos.”
  • Blender: “. . . a blast of iMax Lynyrd Skynyrd complete with string section, a couple na-na-na refrains, several bridges to nowhere and lord knows how many latticed layers of Axl’s bandana-banshee singing.”

This raises the obvious question—what the hell is a banshee? My first guess was that it’s a flexible, downright lazy bit of rock-critic shorthand. Just in the archives of Rolling Stone, whose review did not deem Chinese Democracy banshee-fide, the phrase “banshee whatever” covers bands from AC/DC to the Replacements; it seems the guitars on Pearl Jam’s Vitalogy sound like a “banshee,” as does the Divinyls’ entire fifth album. Also banshee-like: Sinead O’ Connor.

Maybe it’s better to ask what was a banshee? The Oxford English Dictionary defines “banshee”—and the word dates back to at least the late eighteenth century—as “a supernatural being supposed by the peasantry of Ireland and the Scottish Highlands to wail under the windows of a house where one of the inmates is about to die.” But now that Chinese Democracy‘s actually out, it seems time to move past the mythological allusions to death, failure, and disease. Based on the album’s early success, might I suggest the “Orpheus croon“?

N.B. (updated)

[Culture11]

I grew up in a tiny Indiana town, where, each political year, we bonded over a latent jealousy toward Ohio for its constant visits and stump speeches and attention; all we got were the commercials, since our TV channels came from Cincinnati.

Of course, this all made sense. Politicians and reporters ignored Indiana because, as a state, it had already cast its ballot. (This year may prove to be an exception, which is why we’re getting covered.) But this doesn’t mean that every county and town mirrored the state’s worldview—Bloomington, I’m looking at you—and I’ve long held the theory that there’s just as much to learn from a man-on-the-street piece on Indiana as from one on Ohio.

A few weeks ago, Culture11 gave me a chance to turn theory into praxis. I don’t live in Indiana now, but the same principles should apply to a true-blue state like Connecticut. Check out my dispatch from North Branford, one of that state’s independent small towns.

UPDATE: If my story inspires you to do some electoral digging of your own, check out this Google map, which includes the results from the last seven presidential elections. Unfortunately, it stops breaking down the results at the county level, so you’ll have to trust me on North Branford. (h/t Marc Ambinder)

“LeBron James and the Beat Book”

[PopMatters]

As these things often go, my new essay on the surprising number of books about LeBron James sat in PopMatters’ que for a long time. This means my discussion of David Foster Wallace now feels sad, weird, and even a little callous (more on his suicide here). It means I wasn’t able to mention the new documentary about LeBron and his high school team.

That said, it also means my essay arrives just in time for the start of the 2008-2009 NBA Season. Read it here.

Vermont, Ice Cream, and Empire

[Culture11]

Vermont’s top tourist attraction is the Ben & Jerry’s factory tour. Now, given the popularity of the tour and the product, why not expand the concept? That is, if each coast can support a Disney-themed park, why can’t we get a second (or third) Ben & Jerry’s factory? But this would miss the appeal of the Ben & Jerry’s factory, which is geographical as much as political. At least, that’s my impression after visiting both factory and state.

Vermont is weird, fascinating, and, most of all, independent. Its amazing alt-weekly, 7 Days, ran an op-ed urging middle-class people to use WIC; one of the main arguments was that it would support local farmers. Then, there’s The Vermont Commons, a “statewide news journal”:

As we have argued in these pages for three years, the United States is no longer a constitutional republic responsible to the will of its citizens, but an aggressive empire acting at the behest of the few at the expense of the many.

And let’s not forget Vermont’s alternative universities like Goddard College, famously the alma mater of Mumia Abu-Jabul. In August, Mumia actually returned to Vermont, via audio recording, to give one of Goddard’s commencement speeches.

If you want to see how this applies to Ben & Jerry’s—and I promise all of it does, even Mumia—check out my new essay at Culture11, “Rage Against the Ice Cream.”