djchameleon

I will just type out a shorter version of what I mentioned previously that didn't end up posting.

There are a few things that I disagree with.

I don't agree with you trying to just cast aside EDM as being faceless and discrediting using technology as an instrument because it clearly is one in this day and age. It has been for quite some time actually. Since you are quick to cast aside EDM as an entire genre of music you also are casting aside all the differences and intracies that occur within the genre that makes me more like your Super Smash Bros example that you even realize. You don't realize it because you don't really listen to EDM too much so you can't decipher the different styles and they all end up sounding the same to you because "Boo Technology right?".

I feel like the whole black artist not having a number 1 hit has to do with how Billboard decided to change the way that certain aspects of collecting data for chart positions work.

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Fame, fortune, power, titties. People say these are the most crucial things in life, but you can have a pocket full o' gold and it doesn't mean sh*t if you don't have someone to share that gold with. Seems simple. Yet it's an important lesson to learn. Even lone wolves run in packs sometimes.

TheBig3

If I wrote that gravity was awesome, you and Engine would come in here and say we should all live in outer space.

Thanks your the bump, your words, and the assumptions. Did you listen to the podcast?

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djchameleon

Of course I did but it was awhile ago. I mostly remember it focusing more on Rosenburg and the state of hip hop and his little history with hot97.

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Fame, fortune, power, titties. People say these are the most crucial things in life, but you can have a pocket full o' gold and it doesn't mean sh*t if you don't have someone to share that gold with. Seems simple. Yet it's an important lesson to learn. Even lone wolves run in packs sometimes.

TheBig3

It’s been awhile since I ranted, but thankfully for the fans of grump, I went and saw a cover band last Saturday night.

One of my biggest pet peeves in music is the easy topic. The musical straw man. That song that posits a completely one-sided argument and then, with all the deep thought of an Ikea instruction manual, presents a life-philosophy that too many fans pick up as an ethos as if it’s either a brilliant position, was said by a brilliant person, or both. You know the type, the people who quote rock stars and then use their full names after it as if they were anything other than a bunch of high school dropouts who read On the Road. Cue MAGIC!

Nothing strikes me as more disingenuous than a band whose organization seems built to be the love-child of Sublime and the Barenaked Ladies: Quirky, in love with a groove, and far too serious to be given a pass. It’s the sort of act that the marketing department and Columbia masturbates to. A sound born for the suburbs, top 40 radio, and minivans. The kind of music that says “Hey, it sounds like Jamaica if we got rid of all the black people.” In short, it’s white flight in a 3-minute, radio friendly unit shifter.
First let’s talk about the clown of a front man, Narsi. I’ll give him credit for writing his own stuff, and other people’s. Beyond that, he should be charged with war crimes. To start, here’s a list of who he’s written for: (from Wikipedia)

To be honest, I was a little shocked he hadn’t written for Jason Mraz or Maroon 5. And when I realized he hadn’t, I half wondered if MAGIC! began because they wouldn’t buy his offerings. (Thanks a ****-load, Maroon 5). But you get the idea looking at that list that he was 5 more hits away from selling to Rhianna who seems to be the pop act with Island-sounding music and standards – Selena Gomez famously got her hand-me-downs on “Come and Get it” replete with type-cast “na, na, na’s” that have become a borderline gimmick for Rhianna. So from the jump, MAGIC! has the feel, both in paper and upon hearing them, that they’re a musical after-thought. A band that is hitching it’s applecart to the most economically viable vehicle for musical profitability. Imagine a Black Eyed Peas for the Starbucks set.

Then there’s the stuff beyond their music. For starters – their name. Exactly how long did someone think about the name MAGIC!? Probably not long, but since you may be wondering why it matters, let’s address that as well. Nothing smacks of having been run by the corporate office like punctuation in band names. Whether it’s PANIC! At the Disco or Ke$ha – it’s a gimmick. Secondly, it’s in all caps, which is (to me) like not filling in the field on the madlib. Am I supposed to scream this name? That’s what all caps and an exclamation point says to me. Except that the band is the opposite of screaming. Even the intended demographics aren’t interested in screaming the name even if that’s what they meant to convey. I’d suspect that given the nature of the band, which is the materialized version of a human Xanax, they thought they needed a name which said “hey, we’re not the one-hit wonder trash you think we are – get. Excited.” Except that no one but teenagers would, and they’ll get excited for anything so long as it’s on their side of the sandbags in the endless high school war of defining yourself but the t-shirt you have on.

And speaking of High School, the sanitized version of Benny & Joon that takes place in the music video is close enough to Romeo & Juliet that these fans can somehow find a connection to what’s being yammered at them by their Charlie Brown teacher all class. If one positive thing comes out of this miserable video, it might be that the class battle present in Shakespeare is somehow cemented in the withering minds of the Angry Birds set. Maybe when Monsanto is giving them cancer, they may have the one and only epiphany of their lives on their death bed. Thanks, MAGIC! The “woman” they’ve put in the video is certainly attractive (which is strange because beautiful, scantily clad women rarely sell products) , but is little more than a bit role. Similarly, her father show’s up to say “Yeah, listen you dirty bohemian, you’re not marrying her” which is awesome because the premise is “it’s because you’re poor” but the reality is “this is a dream, and you’re too much of a Spicoli to ever land this Manic Pixie Dream Girl of suburbia.” This interaction leads to the most punishing assault on the critical mind of the listener: “Don’t you know I’m human, too.” And right there, you’ve encapsulated the worst elements of the hippie movement, and that of the people who believe they are Channing Tatum from Step Up. A perennially persecuted class of folks, too uneducated to recognize their own laziness, and too egotistical to ever question their lot in life.

The actual words are asinine. If that father is really the CPA they’ve dressed him as, then I’m just guessing he’s aware he’s not speaking to an elephant or spider plant. The message behind them is missing the point. He’s aware you’re a human, and that isn’t the part he’s objecting to. If this situation at all marries a reality at all, he’s most likely protesting you knocking up his daughter who struggles to make ends meet while you play call of duty while eating Doritos (getting stoned optional). As if that wasn’t bad enough, we then move into “say yes, say yes” as if this guy desperately wants the father’s approval. In what reality would that person care about something like that, let alone propose marriage? Answer: One in which 13 year old women, sold on the concept of a lady waiting for her prince charming, eat up like Kobayashi at Nathan’s. Which is really the whole point of this ramshackle enterprise, to sell the willing consumer enough shlock to get the dollar bill across the proverbial counter and into the bank account so this guy, who thinks he’s Prince by the way (we do not give nobody’s single names in America, sir), can reach a high level of sales for his middle ground music and dump the rest of the accountants he’s got backing him up on tour.

What MAGIC! has really made me appreciate, though, is the influence a pop artist might exert on a given song. At worst it’s another layer of revision that makes most songs a lot more bearable. I think the main problem with the music MAGIC! is putting out is that, when Narsi creates music, an artist still has to option it and make changes as any director would do with a script for a film. When his own project has come alive, he’s judge, jury, and executioner - there’s no way the free-riders in the band are going to question the gravy train. And unfortunately for us, we’re on trial.

Tl;dr: MAGIC! is a band for the Beiber crowd to get ethnic to.

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