“For years, I was in this tunnel where I was trying to be cool. Every move I made was super-calculated to maximize my coolness— where I went, who I talked to, the bands we toured with, my haircut, my pants. But I was able to connect to something bigger than being a music bro with this record. Being a father breaks you out of that— your kid doesn’t give a shit if you are cool. They want you to love them. They’re going to tell you if you don’t.”—The Rapture frontman Luke Jenner talks to us about his post-cool awakening.
When I got signed to Warner Brothers, and I thought ‘this is it.’ I did it. I’m the champ, you know? But actually what’s it’s done is I’ve lost my creativity. I’ve lost it. I’ve given everything I could give… I’ve been reduced now to where I don’t feel like I’m anything. I haven’t read a book. I haven’t written anything. I just don’t feel like a man. I feel like a ghost.”
This band was both perfect for the time it came out and wildly ahead of its time. I went through two distinct periods of time in my life where I was obsessed with these guys. Ritual fucking rocks. This band just kicks ass.
I just made a drink with homemade watermelon infused vodka, lavender simple syrup and lime. Called it “date rape.” The wife was not amused. I am probably going to have to stop saying shit like this when I have a kid.
“The worst, most dangerous person to America is clearly Paula Deen. She revels in unholy connections with evil corporations and she’s proud of the fact that her food is fucking bad for you. If I were on at seven at night and loved by millions of people at every age, I would think twice before telling an already obese nation that it’s OK to eat food that is killing us. Plus, her food sucks.”—Anthony Bourdain
There’s a decent chance you thought that already. You might even be a Dane Cook fan; the guy does have millions of them, judging by his album sales and the arenas he packs throughout the country, though I’ve never met a single one. But in the kingdom of comedy nerddom—a small territory with outsized influence, where strangeness-for-strangeness’ sake and deep, dark psychological dysfunction are guiding principles—Dane Cook has long resided somewhere between “children’s birthday-party magician” and “rodeo clown” on the coolness scale. But that changed at least a little in the wake of Cook’s June 2010 appearance on Marc Maron’s popular WTF podcast, and on Louis C.K.’s FX series Louie last week.
“We need a bold jobs bill to restart the economy. Eliminate payroll taxes on the first $20,000 of income for two years. Recreate the WPA and the Civilian Conservation Corps. The federal government should lend money to cash-strapped states and local governments. Give employers tax credits for net new jobs. Amend the bankruptcy laws to allow distressed homeowners to declare bankruptcy on their primary residence. Extend unemployment insurance. Provide partial unemployment benefits to people who have lost part-time jobs. Start an infrastructure bank.”—
This is not party music. It’s not music you can put on while you study or read or fall asleep. It’s noisy, occasionally ugly, abrupt and most of all, unapologetic. It’s music that demands your attention, but it doesn’t ask for it: if you are not interested, it says, you can listen to something else. There is an audacity and casual indifference informing almost each song that clearly turned off the fickle fans. I’m not suggesting that to be a real R.E.M. fan you have to love Monster, but I am saying that if you casually dismissed it or never took the time to let it sink its claws in, you’re depriving yourself the pleasure of experiencing what may be the most unfairly-maligned rock album ever.