12” Richard, a garage band formed three years ago in Belle Meade, TN, was shocked last week to find out that their band actually has more members than fans.
The revelation was made after the group played what bandleader, Steve Wilson, described as, “Our first gig in a long time.” About half way through the band’s opening song, “Tears from My Soul’s Heartstrings,” Wilson looked out onto the crowd and noticed that the twelve performers on stage outnumbered the ten people in attendance.
Later on in a closed-door band meeting, Wilson criticized his fellow members for not following his long-standing “bring at least one friend to each show” rule.
Wilson was disappointed, because he felt that the low turnout was preventing the band from their stated goal to, “Feed the starving baby that is the American music industry with the milk of our rich, creamy sound.”
Theories abound as to why 12” Richard has been unable to build a following even after three years of steadily working in various members’ garages. But one band member, who wished to remain anonymous, pointed us towards the band’s YouTube channel for information.
According to comments from the band’s only video, titled “Won’t Let Your Spider Feelings Trap Me in the Web – LIVE”, the group sounds like a cross between, “Jesse and the Rippers, Daft Punk, and the death rattles of a dozen howler monkeys.”
Delving deeper into the issue, The Slant headed over to the band’s MySpace page only to find that all three of the afore mentioned sounds had been listed as “R Influencez [sic]” by site designer and drummer Will Nowlan.
According to Nowlan, who is generally recognized as the tech and social media guru for 12” Richard, “Ever since the last show, [Wilson] has been on my back about making our band go viral. I don’t really no what that means, so I’ve just been toying around with different background themes on Myspace… I showed Steve the other day and it actually seemed to be what he wanted.”
Wilson and two friends, Mike Powell and Chuck DeSantis, formed 12” Richard in late 2008. The three friends were quickly forced to look for other musicians, as each considers himself to be a rhythm guitarist/vocalist.
After adding in several drummers and no fewer than three bass players, the band’s sound really started to take shape. But it was not until the addition of “Keyboard” Steve Ellis and a couple of his turntable playing buddies that the band reached an even dozen.
But while this large crew is necessary to 12” Richard’s desired sound, it also makes it all the more difficult to maintain a fan to band ratio of at least one when playing shows, usually in some member’s backyard.
Sources close to the group indicate that for their next show, the band is planning a serous campaign to bring out the fans which will involve flyers, social media, and telling Rod that he can’t come unless he brings his mom’s minivan and he fills it up with people.
Local Band Somehow Has More Members Than Fans
Pitchfork’s Indie Credibility Questioned After Giving Newest Kanye West Album a Perfect 10.0 Review
Pitchfork was the friend you loved to hate. Although you would scoff at his pretentiousness and proliferation of the hipster culture, you secretly compulsively read all of his album reviews and pirated every album crowned “Best New Music” in between sessions of Urban Outfitters online shopping and utter self-loathing. He was an insufferable asshole, but his role in your life was undeniable, invaluable – Pitchfork told you that Animal Collective was music’s second coming, and you believed him and legally changed your middle name to Avey Tare. Pitchfork taught you all about DIY and film cameras; you gleefully purchased your Lomography Holga and filmstock. Shaping your life in way not even your parents could, Pitchfork made you who you are today.
Then came Kanye. Kanye is also an insufferable asshole, although the two lived in different spheres: Kanye of shutter shades and gold diggers and Pitchfork of Ray-Bans and PBR. Yet, worlds collided on a seemingly normal day in November.
And Pitchfork died a traitor.
November 2010 brought not only a dismal round of midterm elections, but also a greater travesty, the release of Kanye West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. The day was the 22nd, a Monday. A normal, brisk fall day, until we heard it. Nicki Minaj speaking in a British accent. Kanye referencing Celine Dion, Kings of Leon and Leona Lewis in one sentence. Orchestral interludes. Cop lights, flash lights, spot lights, strobe lights, street lights. Every relevant rapper making appearances. A questionable Chris Rock phone conversation. A stab in my heart and a Bon Iver appearance. And then we saw it. Pitchfork, our dear friend, our harsh critic, our indie God, gave it a perfect score. Arcade Fire didn’t get a perfect score. Even Animal Collective didn’t get perfect marks.
Kanye’s final track asks, “Who will survive in America?” Again. And again. Well I ask who will survive in a world where Pitchfork gives a 10.0 to a rap album? Who will survive in a world where the man who accused George Bush of hating black people has championed the primarily white indiesphere? Is this indie affirmative action? Has the counterculture become the mainstream?
You saw it as dyslexia… they meant a 0.01. You hoped it was maybe just Chicago pride: Pitchfork and Kanye trying to compensate for the Cubs. You desperately wished it to be April 1st, and this catastrophe was all a joke.
But it wasn’t. It was the ultimate betrayal.
And in a fiery explosion rivaled only by the one Kanye rescues his phoenix from in Runaway, Pitchfork and its credibility were brutally massacred.
Pitchfork is survived by his contemporaries MTV and Top 40 Radio. Though never on good terms in life, they are forever reconciled in death – death of integrity, death of originality, death of indie. Ke$ha, Waka Flocka Flame, and Willow Smith forever.
Those who choose to gloss over Pitchfork’s fatal mistake mourn the loss of their online bible and their now irrelevant thin scarves and excess cartons of American Spirit cigarettes.
Talks of a memorial fund circulated, but P4K’s demographic proved incapable of finding a way to torrent the any paltry sum of money.
Kanye West vs. The World
Not that it needs to be said explicitly, but it keeps becoming more and more apparent that heavily-circulated music keeps getting worse and worse. Case in point, Far East Movement’s “Like a G6” might be the absolute worst song I have heard in many years, and that is saying a lot. It’s as if someone took a computer and made a song, but forgot to put the song part into the .flac file. Many claim that T-Pain is to blame for the computerization of music, but I believe he redeemed his ways by collaborating with the genre-bending “I’m on a Boat.” However, even the fact that T-Pain has become less relevant clearly hasn’t stopped the multitude of hack jobs from making “music.”
Over the past few weeks, I have come to the conclusion that the downfall of contemporary pop music can be experimentally traced to Lil Wayne’s 2008 single “Lollipop.” As the 90s officially died in 2001, it can be deduced that hip-hop entered a strange era of being popular, yet still being distinctly rap. Ludacris, Kanye West and 50 Cent were able to use old-school sample-based beats with gangster-esque vulgarity to create a bastard child of creativity that somehow still managed to be pretty dang cool. As a certified white-boy, I am obliged to be in love with Madvillain’s 2004 Madvillainy – the most critically acclaimed hip-hop album of the decade, which naturally means it’s not popular and that no one has ever heard of it. Lil Wayne shook up the scene by being so goddamn strange, but “Lollipop” was the definitive “jump the shark” moment.
Consider the other songs on Tha Carter III. They are mostly all classic Weezy, especially the bad-yet-still-good “A Milli.” “Lollipop” had Lil Wayne using Autotune prominently for the first time, and its popularity still has all of us reeling in the consequences.
After “Lollipop” blew up, everyone and their producer’s brother was booking Lil Wayne to be featured on a single. Kanye West took the idea and made an electronic album that was clearly too advanced for Top 40 listeners’ brains. The Autotune epidemic became so inundating that not even Jay-Z could fully kill it in his tracks.
As hip-hop becomes more and more like pop, it disturbs me that artists are trying to come up with catchy choruses rather than a complete song. One of my roommates, bless his heart, often falls victim to the ruse. He knows the words to choruses of every song in the Top 40, but ask him to sing a verse and he has know idea what’s going on.
The truly, scary part of this is that I have no idea who has the ability to revive 90s hip hop. Jay-Z failed, Lil Wayne gave up, and Kanye West is a jackass. I think if we’re ever going to see another Straight Outta Compton or a Big Willie Style for our own generation, then one of us is going to have to step up. That’s right Slant readers, I’m calling on each one of you to put together a sample beat from your favorite James Brown song and spit some bars over it. And act quickly, we don’t have much time to spare.
WRVU and Music at Large
For those of you out of the loop or who are really, really lame, our radio station WRVU’s 91.1 FM broadcast frequency has been considered for sale by Vanderbilt Student Communications, Inc. – the parent company of this publication. Since I’d like to think that I could influence thousands of people incredibly easily, I’m going to use my little black box here to speak my mind about this complicated matter.
Even though the sale of the broadcast license would somehow benefit The Slant in some sort of strange trickledown cash flow, I don’t know if I would feel comfortable knowing that my group benefited from another’s loss. Also, if the money went to more Slant issues, I’d get even more stressed out. Putting out one every three weeks is challenging enough; I don’t know how my predecessors did it biweekly!
WRVU and I have a strange yet wonderful relationship – kind of like a cab driver and his passenger if that taxi were the Cash Cab and the passenger were an Orangutan. I have lived in Nashville my whole life, and ever since I received my driver’s license, that magical number 91.1 has managed to evoke a wide range of emotion from me every time I turn the dial. From cringing at the postdub alterna-folkwave to being puzzled by garagepunk-thrashmathcore, WRVU is the local grab bag of musical gooditude. My personal favorite is always when the station plays obtuse techno-dance music that not even Shazam can recognize.
Well, it’s my favorite asides from Japanese female-fronted shoegazey-surf rock, of course. MASS OF THE FERMENTING DREGS is my current obsession. Check them out if you have any idea what I’m talking about and enjoy being confused if you don’t.
What else can bring such joy as calling in and constantly requesting such great contemporary British dancehouse-rumpthumpbuzz such as “In the V.I.P.” by Wideboys & Majestic? It’s even more fun when I know the show isn’t going to play it. Sorry for bothering you, heavy metal DJs.
Nashville needs WRVU more than we students do. The most popular radio station that doesn’t play top 40 or sports talk is probably 96.3 Jack FM, and that thing is just a playlist of songs from 80s bands that weren’t their one-hit wonders. Yes, that’s the station they play at the Rec Center most of the time. Don’t you love that stuff?
In my as-of-now brief term as head of a student media division, all of my experiences with the VSC staff have been incredibly helpful and accommodating. For some reason, they continue to let my gang and I ramble about the deep implications of potty-sex humor in front of the whole school, nay, the world.
While the prospect of making mad bank tickles my capitalist fancy, the thought of WRVU being castrated makes me nauseated. Can we look at the .com bubble for a second? Sure, Mark Zuckerberg was able to make a billion dollars by jacking off to pictures of Harvard girls’ faces, but I still don’t have much faith in this “new media” world we live in, and I wouldn’t dare invest millions of dollars in it. Perhaps invest it in salt. It used to be worth more than gold, and that market is looking pretty bad…
Upon reaching the conclusion of this editorial, the whole school, nay, the world, now knows that I know nothing about anything.
Melodores Embark on Grandiose Quest
Today, April 21, the Melodores are having their final concert of the year, “The Meloship of the Ring.” To prepare, members have decided to forgo shaving and wearing shoes up to and throughout the duration of the concert. Throughout the year, the group has had many issues on campus with other a cappella groups, and the Meloship of the Ring is only one in an epic series of performances the group hopes to hold to honor their journey as a new performance group on campus.
“At the beginning of the year, we stumbled upon an old songbook of the Dodecs, and after seeing their bad tonal constructions we, of course, decided to burn it,” Sam Fortenberry said, describing the catalyst that sparked the adventure the group embarked on throughout the year.
After finding the songbook, Fortenberry describes how Concert Choir, wanting to steal the songbook for their director, swarmed the Melodores, battling for the music. “After the battle, we finally thought we got away from the Concert Choir, but then we found ourselves in MRB3 with no way to escape…” fellow Melodore Frodo Baunach said.
Barricaded within MRB3 with Concert Choir bearing down upon them, all hope seemed lost until fellow a cappella group Variations came to their aid, helping to push back the Concert Choir onslaught whilst escaping from the building.
“Man, I don’t know what we would have done without them. In the past, the Melodores and Variations didn’t really work well together, so it was great for them to come to our aid,” Baunach said.
Finally on their own, the Melodores found the nearest barbeque grill on campus and fired up some charcoal. Throwing the songbook into the fire, the Melodores finally felt like they had completed their journey in establishing themselves as an a cappella group on campus.
After the conclusion of their concert series, the Melodores feel as if they will never be able to return to a truly normal life.
“You know, I really think that kind of journey just changes a person, whether he be hobbit, human, or harmonic singer,” Fortenberry said.
Students React to Rites Lineup
The Vanderbilt Music Group did a great job setting up a Rites of Spring festival this year that truly caters to Vandy students. What’s so special, you ask? Why, none other than the plethora of sexual innuendos (or in-YOUR-endos) and alcohol policy carefully designed to make this weekend fun for all, of course!
Rites of Spring is admittedly an off-year this year, with many students disappointed in this year’s musical guests… which makes alcohol that much more important to everyone’s enjoyment of the weekend. As sophomore Kathy McDonald remarked, “They [VMG] just let me down with this line-up… Why couldn’t we get someone good like OAR?” Junior Patrick Tarantino added, “Yeah, I was really hoping for OAR! They’re my favorite band, and TOTALLY still relevant in today’s music scene!”
In fact, Vanderbilt has established a top-secret mathematical formula to determine which years Rites will host good acts. This is how they determined to bring Run DMC to Rites in 1998, starting a long history of bringing rap artists to every event on campus. They also scored a huge hit in 2002 when they had none other than legendary rock and roll band OAR come and put on a REAL show!
Yet while musical guests this year are not stellar, they are clearly designed to please the average Vandy kid with the plethora of sexual euphemisms in their names and music. Friday afternoon had “Lubriphonic” followed directly by the “2 Door” Cinema Club– because everyone knows you need Lube before going in through the back door. Unfortunately, 2 Door Cinema Club has had to cancel their performance this year, due to a rough ride last weekend when too many people forced their way into the tour van through various openings and the chassis suffered some minor rips and tears.
Saturday, we are all going to get a look at Trombone’s “Shorty,” and at 5:55 be treated to JJ Grey and “Mo-fo.” Finally, late Saturday we’re going to take a dip in the “Passion Pit” as Ben Harper shows us how he likes it: Relentless.
To help deal with these average performances, each student is allowed to bring in 6 12-oz cans of beer. Enough to get sauced for a few hours, at least. However, Vanderbilt helps guarantee the maximum kick from your alcohol by only allowing you to carry in one bottle of water, with no other drinks to alternate with your beers, and you’re not allowed to bring in any food to slow the absorption either. Also advocating the overconsumption of alcohol at Rites of Spring are Drake and Ben Harper, who are coming as part of the Campus Consciousness Tour. Drake had this to say: “Consciousness is a huge issue on college campuses nationwide. My tour is to raise awareness of the consciousness problem and get those poor few freshmen who are still standing something else to drink!”
So remember to drink responsibly (take advantage of the limit you’re allowed to carry in and/or heavy pregaming) and enjoy the weekend; you will know you had a good time when Sunday morning comes and you can’t remember a thing, and Alumni Lawn is coated with more trash than the front porches in Memphis.
Rites Done Right
Every year a two day festival occurs at Vanderbilt University. The Rites of Spring music festival gathers artists such as Passion Pit, Lil Jon, The Flaming Lips, and Wolfmother for two days of music to close out the semester. Students have an intricate selection process of suggesting bands to come perform on Alumni Lawn. But the real fun comes in when you select the real star of the show, the six little cans of alcoholic happiness you can carry in with you.
Sure the most common route to RoS blissful memory loss is the heavy pregame, come down, then post game blackout. But to preserve that almost blackout buzz you have to be smart about what you take in with you. Old Chub, an 8% alcohol Ale, comes in six packs of 12 oz. cans for 10 bucks at frugals. However if you want to save some cash and have your beer to taste like watered down dog piss you could go the route of Natural Ice, pulling in at 5.9% alcohol. A case of 24, “NIce’s” can be picked up for $13.29. If you’re trying to earn some hipster cred you could show up with six Pabst blue ribbons and complain loudly about how much better Phoenix was in 2005. Coming in at 5% ABV $16.49 for a case of 24 you’ll be able to make some new friends with bad facial hair and tight pants.
For the rest of us who can’t bring in little bottles of happiness with us, we need to plan ahead. Look at the schedule and determine which shows you want to halfway remember. Now when you start drinking remember that your body processes about one to one and a half drinks an hour. For example if Cold War kids isn’t really your thing but the song 1901makes you dance uncontrollably you can afford to be blackout until 9:30 on Friday night. So you start drinking Friday afternoon. When you get to the level where your face is tingly and everything is slightly recognizable stop and look at the clock. For each hour you have until 9:30 you can have one shot or one beer. You’ll be able to remember the concert in the morning and as soon as Phoenix’s setlist is over you can grab a beer from a frat boy’s cooler and work back towards that memory less abyss.
This article is moot if you want to experience Rites over. In which case you’re a bitch.
So Far Gone is How I’ll be at Rites of Spring
The Rites of Spring line up has been announced: Ben Harper and the Relentless7, Melanie Fiona, Doug E. Fresh, Passion Pit, Cold War Kids, and Drake. Wait! Drake…as in Drake Bell from Drake and Josh or Francis Drake, the swashbuckling pirate of the seven seas. If you were thinking any of the above, you were wrong. The Drake performing at Rites of Spring is none other than Aubrey Drake Graham; better known as Drizzy Drake by overzealous fans, Drake by the tabloids and Jimmy Brooks the wheelchair kid from the hit Canadian show. The writers at The Slant have a slew of nicknames we’d prefer to call him, but we feel that “That rapper who got one more Grammy nomination than Soulja Boy Tell’em” would only serve to switch Mr. Tell’em’s attention from his “successful” rap career to our measly newspaper. Despite this, The Slant believes that the Vanderbilt community deserves to know who exactly this seemingly talented entertainer is.
Born and raised in Toronto, Canada, similar to where every other rapper began their successful careers, Drake’s boyish charm and bass deficient voice scored him the role as Jimmy Brooks on the Canadian high school drama Degrassi. In the show, Brooks is a basketball star who became physically disabled after he was shot in the back by a classmate. Possibly seeing the end to his stint on television, Drake released his first mixtape on Myspace prompting me to wonder how one decides to go from Canadian television star to Myspace mixtape releaser, but because this was a Myspace release, the jump couldn’t have been but so far. Drake’s role on the show ended in 2009, when his character finally graduated from Degrassi High…at the age of 23; proving that Canadian television producers couldn’t get over the fact that real Canadian schools allow people to stay in high school until the age of 24. This did a lot for Drake, considering the majority of kids on Myspace were probably in high school during this time.
Regardless, Drake skyrocketed to success off of his many mixtapes, none of which can be downloaded while on campus, which leads me to believe that there are many of us on campus who still have a Myspace account. Nonetheless, the positive reviews Drake received led him to be signed with Lil Wayne’s recording label, “Young Money.” This ragtag group of rappers consists of a slew of colorfully named characters like Nicki Minaj, Gudda Gudda, Tyga, Lil’ Twist, Mack Maine and Lil Chuck. Luckily Drake was spared a ridiculous nickname that seems so characteristic of this group.
Despite his lackluster early career, unimpressive upbringings and lack of a studio album, Drake surprisingly puts out good music. His use of metaphors and punchlines combined with his clever usage of words, Lil Way…I mean Drake is an unusually talented rapper. His influence spreads from Facebook statuses, to Twitter posts and pretty soon, according to Drake, he’ll be “All up in yo slot til a —– hit the jackpot.” Of course this article doesn’t really do much to help since only about 8% of this entire campus really knows who he is or cares.
Pop Songs Cause Panic
Across Vanderbilt, students have been experiencing very strange after-effects of heavy nights of drinking. Some experts believe that the symptoms are the result of extremely catchy pop tunes. There is not yet any concrete scientific research to support this theory, however, there is evidence to suggest that songs with particularly asinine lyrics are the most potent.
For example, some students have been diagnosed with schizophrenia.
“I don’t know, I woke up this morning and I just felt like P-Diddy,” Freshman Susanna Gutenburg said.
Doctors found that many of these students also became romantically interested in significantly older men.
“I just… I don’t want you unless you look like Mick Jagger.” Gutenburg said.
Even professors have noticed something different about students.
“When I ask a question, and my students put their hands up, all of my butterflies fly away!” Biology and first name/last name confused professor Jim Patrick said.
Some students have even developed a stutter.
“In my Vanderbilt Visions group, when they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I just couldn’t stop, I said: ‘Imma be Imma be Imma be Imma be Imma be’—it went on for a while like that,” Freshman Rachel Harritsman said.
Similarly, some students’ schizophrenia has taken the form of species-confusion.
“I don’t know why they keep telling me I’m human, Imma bee, Imma bee, Imma bee, Imma bee!!” Junior Kelly Youngstown said.
Other students have instead merely experienced lowered standards.
“You and me—I really think we could write a bad romance. Nothing Twilight level, but you know, pretty bad” Senior Wayne Tredmore said.
However, the worst symptoms seen thus far seem to be fits of rage towards inanimate objects. Tom Haywater, one affected student, was unable to talk due to his incarceration. His roommate was available to comment.
“It was crazy, I was asleep and then suddenly Tom was screaming ‘Kill the lights! Kill the lights!’ I couldn’t stop him—I don’t know if my lamp will ever be the same,” sophomore Bernard Birdshaw said.
Doctors are particularly concerned about the dramatic changes in Saturday night reactions.
“It’s not like the 70’s,” Doctor Julia Patrick said, “back then kids would just stay alive, they’d really just be staying alive.”
Jay-Z Gets off Subject; many are Left Feeling Fly.
“Hey you in the purple shit, with the hair on your head. Keep doing that girl. Yo, dude in the Jamaican colors, I see your shit. Guy with the shit thats half ripped-off, with the stain of what looks like mustard on the right side, no under the logo, yea there, that hot. Damn there are a lot of girls here I’d like to have sex with at some point. Memphis Bleek, do you concur?”
Jay-Z came to Vanderbilt this weekend and received quite positive reviews. After praising the school for its energy and excellent dining facilities, Jay-Z commented on our “swag” as it were. His opinions echoed the sentiments of many Commodores: we’re fresh as hell. After about solid thirty minutes of fashion critiques, Jay-Z had to continue playing music, much to the dismay of the greater Vanderbilt populace. Amidst cries of “What about my outfit!” and “Is my shirt legit?” Jay-Z sung “Forever Young”. Unfortunately its complex message couldn’t penetrate the pleas for advice on color-coordination and fall-styles.
In order to gauge the university’s opinions of the concert, I talked to a few random people afterwards. I first spoke with a large cluster of people, who told me they didn’t go to Vanderbilt, and then told me to “fuck off”. After 30 minutes and many similar responses from non-students, I finally found someone who actually went to Vanderbilt and the concert.
“Oh man, when he got up there and started talking about clothes, he totally pointed at me!”
When asked about the actual concert, this person had said nothing except, “yea there was music and stuff, which was pretty cool”.
After that person passed out in the street I decided to find a girl to get the female perspective. I asked the same question as before: what did you think of the concert?
“It’s not everyday that a fashion legend comes to Vanderbilt. I mean, he definitely saw me in my new heels and pearls.”
And the music?
“I’m not a fan of foreign music, but wow, Jazzy here at Vanderbilt!”
After such a positive response Vanderbilt Student Government has already tried to get in contact with Common and P Diddy. Bob Dylan will no longer be passing through Vanderbilt, as he was deemed “not nearly fresh enough”.
