Every party you hear it.
Every power hour you hear it.
Every sporting event you are more than likely to hear it.
Every cover band plays it at least once.
Yes, I'm talking about "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey. I'm guessing it's the most overplayed song in the history of recorded songs. Once that piano riff sets in everyone's eyes light up and joyous shouts are heard all over.
"JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL!" they will shout at deafening volume. The air guitarists will jump onto coffee tables or bar stools and play that opening lead guitar riff like it was the last lick that would ever be played.
I don't mean to come off bitter or like some cynical high schooler who hates everything popular, but I've really just had it with this song. I'm not saying it's a bad song, but I feel as if it is time we adopt a new favorite. It seems no matter where I am, whether it's Thon, a party, a football game, a hockey game, or even my own living room; it's always playing.
At first my relationship with this song was healthy. One of my best friends from St. Joe's loves this song and when entering college, my circle of friends decided we would call him whenever we would hear it, drunk or not.
If I actually kept this promise, both of our own phone bills would be more expensive than what Diablo Cody had to pay to receive the Best Original Screenplay Oscar.
But my dissatisfaction with Sunday's Oscar night aside, we need to pick a new sing-a-long song. Journey's time has come and gone. It's safe to say that if there's ever a danger of someone not believin', they'll play it on their own time.
"But, Rich, if you're so smart, then what's your suggestion!?"
Glad you asked humble reader. I now nominate Don McLean's "American Pie" to be the new drunk sing-a-long. Now, I am under 21 so I don't go to bars that frequently so I have no idea if this song is a staple of bar playlists or not, but if it isn't it damn well should be!
"But, Rich, it's like a gazillion minutes long!"
Damn straight it is! It's time that the human race (at least the alcoholic side) starts working on their attention spans. We need to memorize every lyric of this song and recite it without hesitation. Don't just be one of those guys who knows the chorus. Everyone knows the chorus. Hell, I had it memorized when I was six years old.
Singing along to "American Pie" brings a great sense of accomplishment when you finish. You'll be happier and feel less worthless. And most importantly, you'll feel more American ... I mean, come on, American is in the title! You can't get more patriotic than that!
So at your next party/social gathering/bar tour stop believin' in Journey and start drinking whiskey and rye while singing American Pie.

-- Rich

For last week's Arts in Review, I examined Kay Kay and His Weathered Underground's debut full length. I would not have heard about this band if not for the Internet and more specifically, web sites like MySpace and Purevolume (not to mention various message boards). This is of reasonable importance.

After an e-mail correspondence with the band's publicist, she mailed me a burned copy of the album, as there was no actual CD release (it was available only on vinyl and by digital download). The CD arrived quickly, but it didn't work properly, so the publicist uploaded the music and cover art to a third party download site, and then sent me a link. I downloaded the music, listened to it extensively, and then gave it an A-.

This was almost identical to the standard peer-to-peer music sharing that the RIAA constantly complains about, except for the fact it was perpetrated by someone within the industry itself.

The very fact that this seems appalling in any way is emblematic of how out of touch the RIAA is.

Ignoring the failed "snail mail" correspondence for a second, Kay Kay and His Weathered Underground spent basically $0 getting me their music. This is thanks to a new invention known as "the Internet."

Most of the music industry doesn't seem to have a very good handle on this whole "Internet" thing. As I've mentioned before, we get countless unsolicited records in the mail every week, and we're just a random college paper that reviews only a few albums a week, at most.

On an individual basis, it doesn't cost a record company a whole lot to mail us a CD. For postage and the cost of the physical product itself, it's only a couple bucks. The problem is, we rarely review any of these, and these companies obviously send these records to hundreds of other publications.

The point is: the record industry is always claiming the internet is costing them money, and yet they consistently ignore how much money it could save them. Before anyone takes the RIAA's gripes seriously, they really need to address their frivolous spending, and promotional records is only one of the problems.

As a music reporter, the Arts in Review page is my favorite part of the newspaper. The previews and futures I typically write afford me a greater deal of literary freedom than the typical straight news article anyway, but reviews allow me to really have some fun (and if you talk to some of my previous editors, perhaps too much fun).

But except for in the rarest of occasions, I can write at most one music review a week, and due to some changes in the way we do things, I'm not guaranteed the one-per-week I once was. This isn't a big deal, though; I'm still afforded more flexibility than nearly anyone else on the paper, and I'm now rarely stretched to review something uninteresting just for the sake of filling space. Plus, more other writers can throw their hats into the review game, which is always a good thing.

Believe it or not, though, more than two or three albums come out on a weekly basis. As such, we can't possibly review it all. Which is sad, because through our mailbox every week comes tons of unsolicited CDs, and not only don't we have enough space to review them all, I rarely have time to listen to a great many. For the big record companies, this isn't a huge deal -- for the most part, their publicity expenditures pale in comparison to their record sales. But when a smaller, independent label takes the time to send us one of the few hundred CDs they end up selling, it shows a little bit of effort, and we do appreciate that.

Sometimes they are re-releases, which can be good or bad (good: 25th Anniversary Edition of Thriller; bad: Footloose soundtrack). Sometimes they're just weird, like the one band whose press-release promised a speed-metal band with a lap steel.

One band even sent us a legitimate vinyl LP. I have relatives that don't even mail me stuff that nice.

So here's my promise. At some point this semester, I'm going to make up some lost time. It might be in Venues, it might be in the Finals Magazine, it might be in this very blog. Obviously they won't all get the same 10-15 inches that the other stuff gets, but they all deserve at least a spin or two.

And, obviously, they won't all be very good. In fact, I imagine a decent number of them will be legitimately terrible (although, admittedly, these are sometimes more fun to write). But if someone is willing to record an album, it deserves to be listened to. And at some point, I will, before these CDs stack too high.

Someday soon, I will share my findings with you.

- Adam

Holy crap.

If you ask me what the first thing I said after watching the movie There Will Be Blood, that's all I can really say.

Holy crap.

My jaw was dropped almost the entire 158 minutes of this film.

Holy crap.

OK, before this starts sounding like a badly written poem, I should probably explain why I'm talking about a movie when this is clearly a music blog. This isn't 'Nam, there are rules!

Well, I'll tell you why, good sir or madam. The music contained in this body slam of a film was downright fantastic. Not since my young ears heard the theme to Requiem for a Dream have I been so excited about a film score.

And who is responsible for this outstanding score? Of course, a member of Radiohead. Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if Thom Yorke unveiled a new line of toasters that also buttered your toast for you. Radiohead will probably soon be responsible for everything righteous and good in this world (I may have compared Radiohead to God, but I haven't been to church for a while so the Big Guy may not have heard me).

Anyway, sacrileges aside, back to this magnificent score.

The music in There Will Be Blood is so haunting, so eerie and at the very same time so unforgiving. I think Ebert or some movie critic said this, but it's as if the score is a character itself. The camera seems to almost move in unison with the music, giving it an even more powerful feeling of exploration.

I actually bought this soundtrack before I even saw the movie. I was in City Lights Records, 316 E. College Ave., and just passing the time with a roommate when I saw it there for $8.99. I took a look at it and, combined with the beautiful cover art and the fact that Jonny Greenwood was the composer, I had to get it.

As I listened, it sounded very dark and scary. Like something out of a horror movie. But after watching this film, it is a completely new beast. The music has changed faces essentially.

This makes me think about other great soundtracks. Like previously mentioned, Clint Mansell and the Kronos Quartet's score for Requiem for a Dream and also The Fountain. Wendy Carlos's score for Clockwork Orange comes to mind. Who can forget Ennio Morricone's work on The Good, The Bad & The Ugly? John Williams, Danny Elfman, you get the point.

What all these compositions have in common is that the music works so well with the movie. In some cases, viewers become more excited for the music in the movie than the actual movie itself. There Will Be Blood could be classified as one of these films, but honestly, this film is a masterpiece itself.

I may be hyping the shit out of this, and if I am, I apologize but I rarely geek out when I see movies, but this is one of those times. If you're reading this blog so far, then my opinion has been interesting enough to get you this far, so take my advice.

Stop what you're doing. Stop learning. Get out of whatever online course you're currently trying to do work in. Stop playing Bloons. Stop doing whatever it is you do on your computer.

Go see this film now. If not for the movie, than for the score. The thing is freakin' fantastic. It'll make you say "Holy crap."