Wilson & Alroy's Forbidden Words 2011

I used WordItOut.com to make a wordcloud based on Wilson & Alroy's Record Reviews, starting with every page I've posted a new review to in 2010 and adding the other pages in our fifty most visited. (WordItOut was the only site I tried that didn't choke on the volume of text I uploaded, and the interface is very spiffy, though I don't like the fact that it doesn't combine word forms, e.g. "song" and "songs" count as two different words.) The results are here:



It's no surprise to see words like "record," "album," "tunes," "track" and "guitar" on a record review site, but I do see some words that I'm clearly overusing. So here come the Forbidden Words, which I pledge not to use in any reviews in the coming year:

1. Really - A classic sign of bad writing: if you used the right word in the first place, you never need to put "really" in front of it. Really.

2. Only - Nothing wrong with the word, but I think it appears in plenty of places where other words would do. My use of "just" has been nearly as bad. So expect to see a lot of "solely" in 2011.

3. Including - I'll have to lean more heavily on synonyms like "featuring" or "consisting of," and alternative sentence constructions.

4. Here - There's no "here" on the internet. Sometimes I use it to mean the record being reviewed, other times I mean the site, and still other times I don't know what I mean.

5. Version - Look forward to seeing "variant" or words like it next year.

6. Production - Time to be more specific about what's creating the distinctive sound of a recording. But without going overboard talking about "arrangements" either.

7. Ballad - Originally used to describe a folk tale in song, I've been using it too frequently to denote anything a) slow, and b) about a relationship.

8. Rock - This may be the toughest one to avoid, but I was shocked to see how often I use the word as shorthand for "rock 'n' roll." Let's see if I can go a year without slipping up.

9. & 10. Interesting and Dull - Just a lazy way of saying I did or didn't like something.

And the number one most frequently occurring word on the site (not counting everyday words that WordItOut filters automatically)? I'm not going to eliminate "like" from my vocabulary, but I will try to keep it to a minimum. And feel free to suggest any other word we've overused (one to a customer, please) by posting a comment.

The Great Recording Artist Draft, or, What Do I Have To Do To Hear A New Angela Winbush Album?

Maybe someone can explain to me why this is a dumb idea, but I'm wondering why we can't set up a mechanism where fans of a particular artist can bid money to "draft" the artist back into the studio to make a new record. Like Jill Sobule in reverse: if you haven't been following that story, she raised about $75,000 from fans and other well intentioned folk so she could record and press her 2009 release California Years (other artists, including Cris Williamson, have done similar self-fundraisers without getting the same media attention).

I'm not talking about recluses like Axl Rose and Sly Stone, who have issues unrelated to financing which keep them from releasing product. I'm thinking more about someone like Ernie Isley or, yes, Àngela Winbush - people who presumably wouldn't be averse to hitting the studio if they could be assured in advance that they would get back their costs and (ideally) a bit extra.

I'd picture it working somewhat like an eBay auction (remember eBay? It's where you used to go for rare LPs before they all starting turning up on Rapidshare). Anyone interested could sign up for a central clearinghouse where you could put down money toward a new album by a given artist, who might or might not be amenable - it would be up to the artist to indicate interest, specify a minimum bid, etc. Everyone going to the site could see how much money had been pledged toward each artist - you could track fastest movers, newest additions, largest budgets, and so on.

The money would be placed in revocable escrow, so that you'd really need to put up the dough but you could get it back if you got tired of waiting for that next Leo Sayer disc - this would address the hypothetical problem where an artist could have an incentive to wait indefinitely, letting the budget go up and up, rather than actually making the record. Once the artist said yes, got the cash and recorded the CD, everyone who fronted money would get some freebie, like an autographed copy. (Sobule made an elaborate system with various levels, so that if you contributed enough you could even sing a duet on the record, but I doubt many artists would be that flexible.)

To really build a system like that you'd need someone to hold the money, and I'm certainly not volunteering. Thanks to the financial crisis nobody's making any interest to speak of anyway, so the only thing you'd need to worry about would be someone running off with all the money. But we're all music fans, we can trust each other, right? Right? Did I just lose everybody? Anyway, assuming the practical part can be straightened out if there's enough interest, let me throw out my price list:

Alec R. Costandinos	$50
The Abdul Hassan Orchestra	$50
Carole King	$50
Lunachicks	$50
Biz Markie	$50
Pajama Party featuring Jennifer McQuilkin	$50
Brenda Russell	$50
The Shaggs	$50
Bill Withers	$50
Chuck Berry	$100
Ernie Isley	$100
Little Richard	$100
Patrice Rushen	$100
Sleater-Kinney	$100
Àngela Winbush	$200

Sharon Brown, "I Specialize In Love" (1982)

I spent almost twenty years looking for this dance record before finally finding it at The Thing in Greenpoint. Written by Golden/Sher and produced by Next Plateau founder Eddie O'Loughlin, the tune was sort of a cross between early disco and Hi-NRG, mixing Latin percussion and a midtempo groove with jumpy synth, diva belting, and a winning attitude. I heard it a lot in 1982, though it seems like I never heard it on the radio, only coming out of passing cars, which is one reason I had trouble figuring out who the singer was. The other reason is, Brown never had much of a career apart from this one song: she apparently fell out with her label after they released a follow-up ("Love Don't Hurt People") she wasn't happy with, they parted company, and she ended up never releasing an LP.

The song was covered by Exposé in the mid-90s, and their version isn't half-bad, but track down the original if you can. Alternatively, you can check it out on YouTube.

Growing Up Skipper, "Teenage Boyfriend" (1991)

Growing Up Skipper was an early 90s all-female punk trio, not affiliated as far as I know with the Riot Grrrl scene but sharing some characteristics. They released one 7" with three songs; the other two are decent but "Teenage Boyfriend" is the keeper. Sung - almost spat - by lyricist/bassist Jane Guskin (formerly with San Francisco punk rappers the Yeastie Girlz), it's a cathartic, vitriolic assessment on an inconsiderate youthful swain. Apparently the song was covered by God Is My Co-Pilot in 1995; I haven't heard their version.

With its simple, memorable melody and powerhouse delivery, GUS's single is well worth searching for on eBay... There are even liner notes, with a thought-provoking deconstruction of the song's theme. (DBW)

Bobby Murcer, "Skoal Dippin' Man" (1983)

Years before Bernie Williams first picked up a guitar, and decades before Gretchen Wilson extolled the virtues of self-inflicted mouth cancer, Yankee great Bobby Murcer beat them both to the punch with this charming ditty. With the passing of Yankee Stadium, what better time to appreciate this surprisingly catchy Urban Country tune? There have been lots of better songs written about ballplayers ("Mrs. Robinson"; several songs by Chuck Brodsky; maybe even "Go Go Joe Charboneau") but has there ever been a better song sung by a ballplayer?

I couldn't find the actual song online, but here's a YouTube fan tribute using the same melody:
"I'm A Bobby Ray Murcer Fan"

CosmicBen & Wilson Kick Around Jazz

After years of swapping long e-mails about music, fellow amateur critic CosmicBen and I finally got around to writing up a Point/Counterpoint discussion on the general topic of "Jazz: Worth The Trouble?" We plan to continue these conversations as a semi-regular feature; the first one is available now on
CosmicBen's blog.

Amy Winehouse, "Rehab" (2006)

I don't know why we've got all these blue-eyed soul British women all of a sudden, but Winehouse is the latest. She comes off like Joss Stone's unwed mother, a drunken, tattoo-covered hard luck woman singing in an Etta James-influenced croak over pseudo-Motown loops, desperate to show us what a bad girl she really is. Her second album Back To Black became a major hit behind this single, supposedly prompted by a management company's suggestion that she get treatment for alcoholism. If you think her response ("I said no, no, no") is clever, you probably also have a closet full of "I don't have a drinking problem: I drink, I get drunk, I fall down, no problem" T-shirts.

What bugs me about the song, though, isn't the banality of the sentiment or the execution (do we need anyone reviving Soul II Soul's schtick?): it's the missed opportunity. The substance abuse rehabilitation industry has mushroomed in recent years, with remarkable media support, and no one's holding it accountable. Judges routinely sentence offenders to attend rehab or AA meetings (or attach it as a condition to parole, which amounts to the same thing), celebrities vanish into rehab after any embarrassing public episode, and who knows how many regular people are following their example. But does rehab actually work?

It's difficult to get decent statistics on the success of rehab programs, because the nature of success is difficult to define - what period of time do you cover? do you count people who dropped out of the program? - and because the for-profit rehab centers have little incentive to participate in controlled studies. Certainly the anecdotal evidence from reality TV shows (Intervention is addictsploitation at its most gripping) and the aforementioned troubled celebrities is not promising. I'm sure they work for some people, and I'm sure they work better for people who actually want to give up the addictive behavior, but I'm also sure that, like prisons, rehab facilities often just teach you more about how to enjoy your addiction than how to give it up. I would love to hear a follow-up from Winehouse along the lines of "They tried to make me go to rehab, I said 'Heck yeah! Those dudes know how to party!!'"