10 - The Michigan Daily - Tuesday, March 6, 2001 Everyday is crappy both lyrically and musically Courtesy of RCA New album foreshadows bad music By Christian Hoard Daily Arts Writer "Scene: The Grammys, 2025. Bono - now very old, his once-glossy mane 'turned gray, stubble spotting his haggard face, those eyes looking more beady than ardent - ambles to the podium. He is there to present a Lifetime Achievement Award, or some such thing. 'He begins: "As you may know, it has become the tradition for the recipient of one year's award in this category to pre- sent to the next year's winner. And since Swas presented the award last year by Eininem, I ..." He trails off for a moment, confused. "Did you know they actually encourage me to curse as much ,as' possible nowadays when I'm doing these things?" "But I told them that that was not Befitting of a man with an honorary doc- torate in sociology from the University of Belfast. And speaking of sociology ... did you ever wonder how Dave Matthews became the most popular stoned white ,guy in the world? "I mean, he was stoned cool, stoned funny, stoned dreamy, stoned pretentious. And he was most often just stoned. But he was very popular, the most popular stoned man in the world, in fact. He had - 1'a band, yes, but they weren't really the Dave Matthews Band. No, they weren't the DMB; they were the DMC - the Dave Matthews Coalition, which used to prompt the Edge to make a joke about 'We're gonna rock you from the Delta blues to the DMC ...' "Anyway, it was a coalition of white people, white people who identified with this stoned man. There were sorority girls, businessmen, wayward Peter Gabriel fans, guys who just liked that drummer, people who thought it was really fookin' cool to have a violin player and a saxophonist in a rock band, upstart hippies, your dad, his girlfriend ..." He is speaking fast now, leaning into it, on the verge of doing a slo-mo version of that swaying swoon he perfected so long ago. His brogue becomes thick."... Bad poets, people who preferred gen- tuinely stupid pop songs to appropriately stupid pop songs, people who made me wonder could it be that so many white people never listened to the Rolling Stones?" He stops. Has he begun to talk about his own audience? He starts to speak again, but is ushered offstage by Justin from 'N Sync, now the N.A.R.A.S. President. The Award recipient - bald, paunchy, more confused than Bono - struts to the stage while his Big Hit, "I Did it," comes over the PA. Long time the theme song to "Entertainment Tonight," it's Generation Y's "Who Are You," perma- nently etched into America's conscious- ness like a Pepsi slogan. And guess what? It's become even more fucking annoying than it is now. By John Uhl Daily Arts Writer ' How dumb does Dave Matthews think we are? Does he think that we don't pay attention to the words of his songs? In the chorus of one down and out ditty, Matthews sings dreamily of how the world would change "if I had it all." Yet his nasal voice is difficult to understand and Matthews makes it sound as if things might look up "if I had a dog." Although it's doubtful that Matthews intended listeners to make this mistaken interpretation, it's nevertheless an appropriate one to have made considering the thematic content of his new album, Everyday. Ten of the disc's 12 songs involve the same subject matter: Convincing a girl to have sex. That's right, folks, Dave wants but one thing ... bitch- es ("oooh, if I had a da-awg!" ). The album's first single and opening track, "I Did It," aside from being a poor attempt to make a pop song chorus out of three monosyllables (worst idea ever), seems to be little more than a preemptive confession for the rest of the album. Exactly what he did is uncertain, as the lyrics unplayfully skirt around the details of an inci- dent involving drugs or sex or both. Regardless, Dave has no remorse, which only makes the rest of the album unnerv- ing, as he devotes a batch of coercive love songs to girls reluctant to give it up. While his simplistic methods of inducement include sympathy ("If I Had It All"), mockery ("What You Are"), begging ("Angel") and more begging ("Fool to Think"), one song goes so far as to seemingly attempt hypnosis with the phrase "all you need is, all you want is, all you need is love," repeated ad nau- seam. Tunes like "So Right" and "When the World Ends" rely on a juvenile carpe diem rehashing of cavalier ideology (sleep with me before it's too late!!!) that Matthews already employed on the album Crash. Unfortunately, the not-very-well- concealed sexual metaphors on Everyday are even, less clever than "come crash into me. What all of' E ve r yd ay ' s vagaries amount to is pussyfooting around the fact that Dave's horny. It takes balls to reveal your most salacious secrets, which is why Mick Jagger singing "brown sugar, how come it tastes so good?" is the essence of defiant rock and roll gutsiness and Matthews singing "I Did It" for no explicable reason is not even worthy of being classified as rock and roll. Of course, there could be an explanation. I suppose Dave could've realized that his audience consists of Greek college students and naive high schoolers, and thus written this record to mock all the girls who will undoubtedly be seduced too easi- ly to its soundtrack by some concupiscent pre-or post-adolescent. Though this is just sadistic enough to proudly be the sordid spawn of The Velvet Underground, Frank Zappa and Tom Waits, I never took Matthews to be one for irony. And the album's shortcomings aren't merely lyrical. Musically, Everyday is painfully derivative of everything else the band has already released. The chord changesrsound like they were lifted straight from the tablature in their old songbooks and altered only enough so as not to infringe on the band's own copyrights. The songs are shorter, essentially abandoning the violin and saxophone solos. Although Leroi Moore's campy saxophone is used sparingly, there is little audible evidence that fiddler Boyd Tinsley is even a member of the band anymore. That Matthews would mute his only competent soloist while also drastically abbreviating the length of his tunes indicates that he was after a more stripped down pop album. It's only natural, then, to expect a higher pedigree of song writing craft in place of the extended song forms and jam outs, the "live sound" that this band is so reputed to possess. This brand of studio-refined popmanship is tricky business. Although none of the integral musical lines of a good pop tune may be particularly complex, the way they fit together involves a great deal of precision. That the songs can maintain both a sense of their intricacy and sim- plicity renders them musically stimulat- ing. A record like Everyday, however, becomes so cluttered by the electric guitar and faux strings glean of studio overproduction that it sounds pretentious. And there are few things less appeal- ing than unfounded pre- tense. Courtesy ofRCA Everryday o abandons; the qualitf of Crash, By Luke Smith Daily Music Editor Grade: F+ (Quick note on the unusual F+ rating: Although this record may be slightly better than the majority of the candy fluff crap that plays on Top 40 radio and MTV, all that means is that it's a notch better than nothing) DMB offers 'highly obnoxious electric guitars' By Dustin Seibert Daily Arts Writer This is some ol' bullshit. As the result of a plot designed by the man, I was "required" to write this review against my will. Now, everyone here at this publication knows DAMN WELL that I only review hip-hop and R&B. Naturally, when I received last Tuesday, the new Dave Mitchell Band joint, I did not hesitate in throwing it back into their pasty-white faces with a resounding "kiss my black ass" following. However, they threatened my job if I didn't provide, saying something along the lines of "we own you; do it or else;" or some racist trash like that. You see, this is nothing more than another brother being used as a pawn in the mass marketing of the man's product; such utter disregard for goods produced and businesses run by our people is an absolute traves- ty! The other day I was talking with my good friend Bobby Seale on my black cell phone about this fool- ishness. He told me, "X, don't forget what Huey and I fought for all those years ago. Keep a steady head, and play their game for the time being. Our time will come soon." So I said to myself that I may as well write this review in order to keep my job ... besides, I know that I am not getting paid anywhere near the amount of cream that my pasty-faced counterparts receive, so I have to struggle that much harder. I need this job ... semiautomatic guns and gas grenades aren't cheap, you know. Before I even pulled the CD out of the case, I notice a band full of brothers, and two white cats. I mean, what the hell is the deal with that?!?!? Are they there just to fill some damn quota? Or is "Massa" Dave forc- ing them to play bad music-depriving them of food and beating them with guitar strings? Look at the frowns on their faces - they look as if they about ready to stick a drumstick up "Massa" Dave's ass. I mean, I would be unhappy too if I were one of the token black men designated just to appeal to a demographic. Come on home, brothers ... come on home. So anyway, I reluctantly shove the disc into the play- er of my black Ford, and I am greeted to nothing other than the brain-bending sound of loud, highly obnox- ious electric guitars. What kind of mess is this? My speakers and my ears are not accustomed to this twist- ed product of the white man's mind! I thought my ears were gonna start bleeding! See, we were all chillin' out, just content with our African rhythms, and then you go and expose us to THAT garbage? That's not even the worst part! This Dave Mathers guy is wailing and whining like a bitch all throughout the record about dumb shit that has absolutely no relevance to me as a BLACK man. My people weren't oppressed for 400 years just to listen to Dave Miller spout his propagan- da. To be honest with you, this guy comes off as het- erosexually challenged, if you know what I mean. No real man with a properly functioning jimmy could pos- sibly sound like such a herb ("a herb" is to stay like it is, ... D.S.) over music like he does. Thank you, my dominant oppressor, for forcing me to waste an hour of my life listening to this insurmountable pile of crap. I couldn't possibly care less about Dan Matthews or his god-awful band. They can take this album and dis- tribute it over in Worchester, Mass where someone actually may care about it. As far as I am concerned, it's music like this that sets us back as a people. Was Radio Rahiem playing this on his boombox? Would you hear this crap at The Source Awards (talk about a fight breaking out)? Of course not! People, we need to ele- vate! Boycott him and his propaganda so that we may put a stop to this kind of music once and for all! I don't know this Dave Mason guy personally, but I can tell . you one thing - when the revolution comes, he'll have a front-row seat for the showing of the barrel of my 12- gauge! Fight the power, and bury this CD as far into the earth as you can. Just don't bury it in the white snow - they want that! The gruesome soiree that is p lar music absolves and absorbs classic pop and alternative acts from the mid- nineties like Unicron. The maelstrom of kitsch teen-pop and the rap-metal fusion has swallowed 'alternative' music whole. And so amidst the turmoil that is today's mainstream, comes the tri- umphant return of a modern day James Taylor, turned to ten, bothered by Ballard and back to bring folk,. rock to the forefront. Right? Delayed countless times, Eve ay hung in the careful balance of; p's throes for quite a while, with studio efforts repeatedly halted by a .pudgy Matthews setting down his guitar and walking out of the studio. Matthews opened his unique song book to pro- Morissette pro-pop caliber producing, pro-bono producer Glen Ballard, who ended up garnering co-writing credits for all twelve tracks on Everyday. Everyday is being pitched to.Sn- sumers as a grizzly moment of epiphny for the tour-savvy Matthews. More than content with his final product Matthews asserted in Rolling Stone that the~e were his "Best lyrics yet, and best songsyet?' Lou Reed was convinced that Metal Machine Music was his best work as well. Lesson: Drugs are bad. Porous at times and blunt at others Everyday's unique blend of - well al things not Dave crossed with mounts of classical Matthews pride creates is- tener supported dissonance. Am I sup- posed to like the nod to Papa Roach. on the first single "I Did It.?" Entrenched in, well not folk. Hive's genre description will need a neate- gory for Everyday. Abandoning' bpool misanthropy of Crash, and abtng some of the South African roots that held him firm in Before These C'4ed Streets, Matthews utilizes a h