Xgau Sez: November, 2024

Thoughts on Kamala and the election, Elton and listening time, Young Thug and trap, bohemia (what dat?) Billy Bragg and Woody Guthrie, and genius (again: what dat?).

Dear Bob, I understand that you want someone to ask you a question about the election, so try this: Any takes on the election, Robert? P.S. I’d rather you not include your ongoing mea culpa for admiring Harris’s articulateness, which you now recognize might have lost voters who thought she sounded too educated. Get over it. It wasn’t your fault. — Carola Dibbell, Manhattan

First of all, Harris was one of the most fluent prose stylists ever to run as a plausible presidential candidate—which despite her own considerable oratorical skills doesn’t mean she was as impressive a speaker as Lincoln, Obama, Washington it says here, or the fireside FDR or as purely brilliant intellectually as at the very least Madison, who did after all play a major role in conceiving the Constitution we say we fight for and the Trumpers hope to wreck. She was also arguably the handsomest, especially if dumb-ass Warren Harding’s square-jawed thing didn’t turn you on. But what both impressed me and led me astray was what the polls told us was the 50-50 race it clearly wasn’t—at least not in the electoral college. I was confident ordinary voters saw her brains and looks as an attractive positive, which they clearly didn’t. On the contrary, let’s specify the obvious. She was Black and female and both cost her. Sexism and racism. Definitive? Maybe not, and we’ll never know how big they were for sure. (It is also worth bearing in mind, just as a quirky oddity if you prefer, that what I’d estimate were the two most intelligent plausible presidential candidates of my and your lifetimes were both of part-African heritage.)

But in addition I’ll note that my biggest personal political gaffe is that I never glimpsed the economic factors I have no doubt cost Harris big because that seems to be how it worked all over the pan-Covid world. About that I was ignorant, to my and so many of my allies’ disgrace. I’ve also been paying more mind than I ever thought I would to what is now, evocatively, labeled bro culture. As someone who would always rather read, listen to music, or both than resort to YouTube and/or the podcast world, I ignore both the way I avoid Rush and Kansas reissues, living without that market share, which for me is negligible economically—but not, it would seem, electorally. Now those motherfuckers scare me.

Although I’ve long followed electoral politics in considerable detail, I don’t have the expertise or vanity to make any prognostications here. I’m glad MSNBC is operative because I find it comforting—especially for the nonce Lawrence O’Donnell, whose detailed firsthand knowledge of DC in particular I’ve been finding informative and on occasion comforting. 

You reviewed a lot of Elton John albums throughout the ‘70s, arguably his creative peak, especially in America. Then you seem to lose interest at the same time his record sales start to slip, even though at one point you state that you’re ‘rooting for him.’ He’s certainly churned out a lot of patchy, uninspired pop albums throughout the ‘80s and ‘90s. However, since 2001 he did release some interesting albums such as Songs From The West Coast, The Union (with Leon Russell) and The Diving Board which harked back to his early Americana period. He and Bernie have written some great songs here. Interested to know your thoughts. — Martin Taylor, Manchester.

So you really think I should be searching out conceivable B plusses a quarter century old by someone I like and indeed respect but don’t care about very deeply? Do the math if you like; I’ll just estimate. Say Dean’s Lists averaging well over 50 a year for 50-plus years. That’s more than 2500, maybe 1800-plus hours worth of listening—at 12 hours a day, over half a year’s worth played just once apiece, total by Elton John two. If a guest requested something, sure; maybe a best-of, I’m a good host. Would the right EJ song sound good in a movie? Sure. Do I have many other things to do with my ears? You bet. So long ago, after many sub-B plus albums, I stopped trying. Might I have missed something? Of course. Does this worry me? Not a whit.

Hey Bob, how have you enjoyed Young Thug’s latest album, Business is Business? I’ve been waiting patiently for your review, but I know that his music can take a while to get accustomed to, even for experienced listeners and longtime fans. Personally, I think it’s pretty good. It strikes a balance between being more meaningful than So Much Fun and more exciting than Punk, ultimately yielding quality entertainment. The tracks that qualify as engaging, in order of appearance: “Gucci Grocery Bag,” “Cars Bring Me Out,” “Abracadabra,” “Went Thru It,” “Oh U Went,” “Want Me Dead,” “Mad Dog,” and “Jonesboro”—neither track tacked onto Metro’s version would make the cut. One excellent song in particular puts an inconspicuously spare Dr. Luke beat to good use, and although Business has its share of expendable tracks, it’s got better production and less fluff than his first two officials. Am I missing something from the bigger picture? — Cameron Dempsey, Bathurst, New Brunswick

Until your note I wasn’t aware that Business Is Business existed. I’ll check it out—in fact am streaming it as I write, and though it sounds OK that’s not all that promising an omen. Trap has always been off to the side of my active musical interests and as well as those of most of my far-flung advisory network. Called “Gucci Grocery Bag” up on Spotify just now. Sounds OK but less than compelling so far. 

I’m not sure how to understand your definition of Bohemian culture. Is it a proletarian culture on the fringe of the bourgeoisie that refuses to stick to conventions? — Jim McEwan, London

I’ve been writing about the history of bohemia for decades—my Book Reports collection has a whole section called “Bohemia Versus Hegemony.” “Proletarian” is too Marxian and working-class a term, but it’s certainly relevant. The two best books I’ve found are Malcolm Cowley’s Exile’s Return and Jerrold Seigel’s Bohemian Paris. See my book pieces “Bohemias Lost and Found,” “Constructed Social Scenes,” “The Village People,” and “Inventing Punk,” all on my site.

In a fairly recent Xgau Sez you mentioned one of my favorite albums ever, Mermaid Avenue, in relation to a Wilco question—and it struck me that as far as I recall it was the first time you’d made any reference to Billy Bragg since around when volume two came out nearly 25 years ago(!). Having treated myself to his celebratory Roaring Forty box set last year, I wanted to ask if you had any favorites of his, and whether you'd kept up to date with any of his post-England, half-English output: in particular the sublime Handyman Blues? I hope this finds you both well, and thank you for all you do. — Fred Hodson, Suffolk, England

Sorry, but if you look at Bragg’s Consumer Guide entry on my site you’ll see that only one of his non-Wilco albums got even a B plus and, right, most weren’t reviewed at all. This bodes ill for the Bragg-Xgau interface. And though Woody Guthrie himself does OK on my site, if you’ll read the Voice essay on Guthrie (good to begin with but substantially improved I’d say in the rewrite I included in Is It Still Good to Ya?) I have my reservations about him as a musician too. I will check out the Bragg album you recommend, but I’ve never thought he was much of a recording artist per se. Both he and his obvious exemplar are wordsmiths first, and that very often impinges on their listenability.

People use the term genius to talk about musicians. You recently referred to Gram Parsons as such. I thought “Yeah, I guess he was.” So how do you define genius in pop music?  And who are some choices who you consider geniuses that might surprise your readers? — Dave W, Swarthmore, Pennsylvania

Defining genius is obviously impossible, but say this all-purpose exaggeration can encompass combinations of originality, productivity, acuity, and the equally undefinable beauty. These calls are best made spontaneously. Is, to choose a strictly random instance, the writer Carola Dibbell a genius? I personally would very much hesitate to say so in print if you hadn’t given me the chance, but often I just look in her direction when she’s merely my wife and think so and certainly I would happily argue that her sole novel The Only Ones qualifies as some kind of genius. Sifting on an impulse through the A shelf of my CDs, I say to myself Abba maybe if a fabrication can count, Cannonball Adderley some might say, King Sunny Ade absofuckinglutely, Adele millions of her adoring fans might well say, Terry Allen some of the few who’ve heard of him might conceivably say, Mose Allison some might say, the Allman Brothers their adoring fanbase might say, and now I’ll stop in the hope that that’s confusing enough for you.