6A — Monday, January 9, 2017
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
DFA RECORDS
James Murphy is my dad.
The early 2000s get far too
much credit for their contribution
to the emo movement. Yes, the era
blessed us with Take This to Your
Grave, In Love and Death and Your
Favorite Weapon, but 1999 gave
us truly untouchable gems like
the quintessential first self-titled
record by American Football. Yet,
the true diamond in the rough of
’99 is Something to Write Home
About by The Get Up Kids, a tender
forerunner of the more upbeat
pop-punk to come in the following
decade.
I often find myself playing the
“which album would I rather
listen to” game with myself and,
when I’m feeling the emo-punk
spectrum, rarely anything beats
Something to Write Home About.
The fact of the matter is, The Get
Up Kids did it the best before the
genre ever hit the mainstream.
Nearly two decades later, barely
anything within today’s “Emo
Revival” comes close to the genius
of this record. Nothing feels quite
as fresh.
“Constants aren’t so constant
anymore,”
sings
Matt
Pryor
on “Valentine.” Our world is
turbulent. Life itself is turbulent,
and it really sucks when you realize
nothing is constant as you grow
up. Emo music is emotional for a
reason (duh), and because of this,
it’s incredibly relatable. It’s also
why lyrics like those found on this
album remain timeless, regardless
of its tweeny sentiments.
And truly it’s the success and
timelessness of Something to
Write Home About that is a dead
giveaway as to why emo music is
thriving again in the first place.
It’s so easy to chalk emo music
up to cliches like “sad boys” and
“Warped Tour kids,” but these
stereotypes only muddle the true
accessibility of most of the genre.
The melodies on this record are
poppy and fun, consisting of
rocking riffs lined with floaty
synth lines, uplifted expertly with
Pryor’s earnestly raspy vocals. This
album is still pertinent because
it showcases just how easy it is to
enjoy music within the daunting
and convoluted umbrella term that
is emo.
“My
Apology”
represents
almost everything that makes an
emo song, well, emo. It includes
sentiments still present in most
of modern emo’s most successful
works from bands such as Modern
Baseball and The Front Bottoms.
Uncertainty, gaining confidence
and having feelings you would
really rather kick to the curb are
all staples in the poignant genre
showcased in this track. If lyrics
like “Sometimes I’m old enough
to keep routine / sometimes I’m
child enough to scream,” don’t
make you take a double-take
at your own life, you have far
more certainty than is humanly
possible, dear reader.
A close friend once told me
that, when reviewing art, I should
ask myself, “Is this accomplishing
what it wants to accomplish?” I’ve
listened to Something to Write
Home About at least a hundred
times, and every listen feels
like the first: it’s fresh, fun and
unapologetically emotional like
emo should be. It accomplishes
these feats with flying colors by
presenting its angst-ridden vibe
amongst its dynamic catalogue
of 12 tracks from pop-punk
anthems indicative of the turn
of the millennium to piano-
heavy tracks that bring modern
classics like “Miserable at Best”
by Mayday Parade to mind.
In
1999,
Pitchfork
gave
this album a egregious 2.0
—
with
remarks
such
as
“mind-numbingly
uninspired,
adolescent pop.” There’s an
obvious issue with reducing the
album to only pop music, as it
clearly explores punk influences
from previous decades. The
reviewer goes on to say, “The
Get
Up
Kids
write
from
assumption, not passion,” while
assuming that the rawness of
the album makes it incapable of
being considered “good” in the
timeless Pitchfork definition. In
2017, when I listen to this album,
I hear a record that is nothing if
not entirely inspired and written
completely
from
the
heart.
Something to Write Home About
is still the charming, brilliant
predecessor to the explosive
popularity of modern emo, and
an integral milestone in the
history of the storied genre.
If I could see all of my
friends tonight, I’d say
DOMINIC POLSINELLI
Daily Arts Writer
Daily Music Columnist reflects on LCD Soundsystem’s
“All My Friends,” senior year and his first true goodbyes
The overlooked predecessor to emo
Music Writer Dominic Polsinelli reflects on The Get Up Kids
and their lost contributions to the development of modern emo
VAGRANT RECORDS
Don’t be concerned, there’s three more white boys where this came from
ALL THINGS RECONSIDERED
I used to listen to “All My
Friends” by LCD Soundsystem
and dream about when I would
feel nostalgic for it. If you have
never listened to LCD, “All
My Friends” is its magnum
opus, a bullet train of a song
that’s undeniably one of the
best of its generation. Over an
unstoppable, unchanging piano
rhythm and the
slowly increasing
crescendo
of
drums,
synth
and
guitar,
James
Murphy
— the unofficial
spokesman
of
the
lost,
aging
New York hipster
—
meditates
on growing old
while still trying
to live the fast
life.
“You
spend
the
first
five
years trying to
get with the plan
/ And the next
five years trying to be with
your friends again,” he sings.
“We’re running out of the
drugs,” he continues. “and the
conversation’s winding away.”
Then there’s the line that
received crazed cheers at their
supposed farewell show back in
2011: “To tell the truth / This
could be the last time.” And the
repeating refrain to close out
the song — “If I could see all my
friends tonight…” — before the
music seems to disappear into a
puff of smoke.
My senior year of high school
was, of course, filled with
goodbyes — but not really. I
went off to a school that’s a
30 minute drive from where
I grew up, if traffic is bad. I
came here with over a dozen
classmates I knew well. I still
see several regularly, and I keep
in touch with plenty more. I’m
kind of proud of the fact that I
have only really “lost” a small
handful of friends, and even
these disconnections felt more-
or-less natural.
“All
My
Friends”
was
a
fantastic
song,
one
that
grabbed me and didn’t let go
for seven-and-a-half minutes,
but it never conjured up any
specific
memories.
It
was
never mainstream enough to
be a song I danced to with
people. It never soundtracked a
celebratory occasion. It mainly
just stayed in my pocket on
my “Top 25 Most Played” iPod
playlist.
Through college, I always
seemed to make
a special point
of listening to it
at the end of the
summer, usually
when I realized
I
was
driving
around
Livonia
for the last time
in a while. It
turned
into
a
ceremonial thing
— I’d turn it up
loud and try to
inhabit the lyrics,
even
though
I
was
usually
just
making
a
mundane trip to
a grocery store or
library. Each time, I felt like the
song would touch some part of
me that needed to connect, but
even though I enjoyed the goofy
devotion of the whole practice,
I don’t know if
I can say that it
ever quite moved
me.
The
line
Murphy
sings
that
always
sticks out to me
when
I
listen
is
the
classic:
“I
wouldn’t
trade one stupid
decision
/
For
another five years of life.” It’s
tailor-made for a high school
yearbook quote, and I always,
every time I listen, think about
whether it’s true.
2016
was
the
first
year
I started noticing the ages
of
celebrities
who
died.
I
subtracted my age from theirs
and wondered what fraction
of my life had already been
lived — and whether I could
comprehend the amount of
time I theoretically had left.
More pressingly, I checked to
see if they were younger than
my parents, and if they were, I
searched for mitigating factors
and tried to find relief in the
revelations that these famous
people smoked cigarettes or
lived
otherwise
unhealthy
lifestyles.
I have made a lot of stupid
decisions in my life, only some
of which turned out to be good
stories later. There are hospital
trips that could have been
avoided; there’s that time I
slammed a door on a friend and
almost broke her mirror; the
multiple times I spilled wine on
carpets.
What I’m trying to say is that
I don’t think I actually identify
with “All My Friends.” Murphy
sings like an everyman, and his
arrangement is visionary, so it’s
the kind of song any lover of
music can appreciate. There’s
a certain anticipation, though,
that I have whenever I queue
it up — I’m looking forward to
powerful emotions. I’m ready
to feel something that never
quite hits.
But now, I’m ready for actual
goodbyes. The friends I never
really left in high school are
getting jobs out of state. I just
finished up my time at the first
job I ever loved.
I’ll leave for the
summer without
the certainty of
returning to see
the same people
again.
I’ll finally be
able to say “To
tell the truth /
This
could
be
the last time and
mean it,” and I
can’t help feeling like at some
point soon I’m going to listen to
LCD Soundsystem and actually,
legitimately start crying. I’ll
start
getting
nostalgic
and
suddenly I won’t be able to stop.
Lauren
Theisen
will
be
listening to LCD Soundsystem
while a single tear rolls gently
down her cheek. If you’d like to
join email her at ajtheis@umich.
LAUREN THEISEN
Daily Music Columnist
The seriousness with which the
“Underworld” series treats itself
has always been its greatest asset
and detriment, lending credibility
to the expansive, legitimately
impressive
mythology
while
draining
the
present-day
action of some
of the fun it
could have had.
The movies are
occasionally
passable,
if
mostly
forgettable
action-horror
flicks.
“Blood
Wars”
feels
different
than
the other films of
the franchise, as if the filmmakers
knew they wanted to make another
chapter in the series, but were
unsure of what shape it would
take. The result is a film that lacks
weight in every part of itself —
from its story, to its characters, to
even the series’ particular brand of
action.
That’s not to say it would be
fair to expect the “Underworld”
series
to
explore
weighty
themes
or
anything
of
the
sort. They’re essentially B-list
movies better known for their
trademark “swords, sandals and
semiautomatics” brand of insanity
than any sort of complex plotting
or layered characterization. Still,
even the action falls flat in “Blood
Wars,” with the crux of at least
two action scenes being two men
shooting each other with high-
powered rifles at point blank range
while screaming a la ’80s action
stars. The action is further bogged
down by the manic editing the
series is equally well known for,
which renders what could have
been entertaining combat hard to
understand and harder to enjoy.
Even
the
story
doesn’t feel like it
has any real purpose
with regards to the
world the filmmakers
have spent four films
and fourteen years
constructing. “Blood
Wars” centers around
the rise of Marius
(Tobias
Menzies,
“Outlander”), a Lycan
who has the power to
make the movie enter
an incomprehensible,
choppy slow motion whenever he
comes on screen. He wants the
blood of Selene’s (Kate Beckinsale,
“Love & Friendship”) daughter,
but Selene doesn’t know where
she is, so he simply decides to
kill people. It feels incredibly
pointless. There’s also an out-
of-place subplot featuring the
political machinations of one of
the vampires, as if director Anna
Foerster (“Outlander”) believes
herself to be making some sort of
monochromatic episode of “Game
of Thrones.”
Even components that feel like
they should have enormous weight
for the characters and should
contribute to something, anything,
resembling an arc are glossed over
in a matter of seconds. “Blood
Wars” seems to genuinely believe
that it has character arcs, but the
characters are, for all intents and
purposes, the same people they
were at the beginning of the story.
They have changed only in physical
location and status. It’s hard to
give “Awakening,” the previous
worst film in the franchise, credit
for much, but Selene had an actual
emotional transition over the
course of the film.
With that in mind, it is difficult
to criticize the talented cast for
what amounts to a collection of
phoned-in performances. They’re
simply given nothing with which
to work. Beckinsale, ever the series’
hidden weapon, manages a few
scenes of legitimate emotion, but
the script strands her in a plotline
involving an early frontrunner
for deus ex machina of the year.
The rest of the characters are
burdened with constantly saying
exactly what they’re thinking and
entire scenes pass where nothing
is spoken except clunky exposition.
If there’s one thing that can
be said for the “Underworld”
movies, it’s that they have always
tried. They have aimed to create
a unique mythology and to create
interesting stories. Whether or
not they have succeeded is up to
individual assessment, but “Blood
Wars” seems like the film where
the filmmakers stopped trying. By
the time the credits roll, the whole
thing just feels meaningless and
unnecessary. Hardcore fans of the
series may find something to enjoy,
but those on the fence will likely
find it unsatisfying and overall
unentertaining.
JEREMIAH VANDERHELM
Daily Arts Writer
‘Blood Wars’ is an unsurprising mess
SCREEN GEMS
This season on “Botched.”
D
“Underworld: Blood
Wars”
Screen Gems
Ann Arbor 20,
Quality 16
FILM REVIEW
Murphy sings like
an everyman, and
his arrangement is
visionary, so it’s the
kind of song any
lover of music can
appreciate.
WANTED: SOMEONE TO TAKE
NABEEL OFF OUR HANDS.
HE GOT INTO THE CRAFT CLOSET
AND THERE’S GLITTER EVERYWHERE
If interested in this joint offer of an application and this unprecedented young man, contact
Natalie Zak at npzak@umich.edu
I’d turn it up
loud and try
to inhabit the
lyrics.
MUSIC COLUMN