May 21, 2009 Earworm

The hand wringing and cries of "Sell Out" that greeted Liz Phair's fourth album, you know, the one on the major label, were stupid enough - Matrix produced tracks and all - but when you factor in that precious "indie", Matador, had already rejected her first take on a third album, asking her to create some radio friendly songs for it, the whole notion of indie credibility becomes as transparent as the emperor's ensemble. The same holds true for the Gilman Street crew and its reaction to Green Day signing with Reprise in 1993 after giving the indie label of choice, Lookout, its biggest seller with "Kerplunk". While the slick production of Liz's self-titled Capitol album was a far cry from the lo-fi noise of her debut, a chronological review of her albums to date revealed a logical progression toward a cleaner sound and a more pop sound and when your album features a song called "HWC" (Hot White Cum, the accusations of selling one's soul to the Avril Lavigne set seem a bit off. As for Green Day, they never claimed to be anything other than three nimrods making pop punk records and the transition to "Dookie" from "Kerplunk" proved to be little more than a producer who knew what he was doing.

Liz's success with Capitol - a label that had, at one time, owned 49% of Matador, by the way - was short-lived. The fault may lie in the fact that she really didn't seem to take the whole thing seriously or with the outraged parents who found their kids singing along to the previously mentioned "HWC". If "Why Can't I" is her most lucrative pop moment, her best is "Supernova" from 94's "Whipsmart"; a girly love song from, and for, those who know better. Liz's fancy may have eyelashes that sparkle like gilded grass but she sounds more impressed by the fact that he's a flying, giant friction blast.

Green Day, of course, are on top of the charts this week with "21st Century Breakdown", selling over 200,000 copies in three days and without the support of Wal-Mart, the nations largest music seller, who refuse to stock any product that comes with a parental advisory label. When pressed for a clean version of the album, the band declined just as they had with their last two releases*, proving once again, that the band recognizes that no label should trump art. I can say I love this new album but I'll toss out the song that stopped me in my tracks in '92 - "No One Knows" from "Kerplunk" - because Billy Joe's wrestling with growing up the way in which one is expected hit a nerve back then and still does.

I throw both these tracks together for two reasons:
1) I've been away for a while
2) I discovered both of these acts in the best way; from a bunch of music loving employees in a real record store. Bite me, Wal-Mart.


*Their previous albums somehow having avoided the P.A. warning