Some Thoughts On Black Friday Riots

After watching videos of violent Black Friday mobs bearing down on stores and shopping malls, I am compelled to reflect on our culture and its insatiable need to consume.

Not only are we now a culture who cares more about overhyped "deals" on consumer items than we do about the welfare of the people around us, but we are so subservient to the act of consuming that most of us don't even realize how hopelessly enslaved we are by the entire process.

Had anyone stopped to realize that these "deals" are presented to us only to encourage more spending right before Christmas, or that the act of fighting through mobs of other crazed shoppers is antithetical to the entire concept of holiday spirit, maybe they would have also paused to realize that the over-arching tone of the whole ritual was to have us all so focused on spending and buying that we'd have to overlook the generous amount of ill will being done in the world today.

I want to say this as clearly as possible. Wake up! If you feel that you need a new television so badly that you literally have to wake up at the crack of dawn, rush to your local Wal-Mart, and beat up other people just to get it-- your priorities in life are SERIOUSLY skewed. You are sick, and you should probably seek immediate professional help (although the sad thing is if everyone who took part in a violent Black Friday raid sought help for mental instability, there would be no psychiatrists left on the planet).

If the people raiding department stores got that excited about helping the poor or spending time with their families, or supporting a worthy cause, we would have already created the much-better world we're all always dreaming of. When will people stop believing the lie that having a bunch of new stuff will make them happy? Being willing to literally push, shove, and fight other human beings to get your hands on something says volumes about our inherent love affair with materialism and blatant disregard for the well-being of others.

I'm not blaming people for wanting to take advantage of deals. And I know most of the people reading this will not have been out punching and kicking people in the mall yesterday. But the general shrugged shoulders I've noticed as a reaction to the phenomenon of violent consumerism is disheartening.

A new twist on an old cliche is in order: a bunch of new stuff (even new stuff that you got on sale) won't ever make you truly happy. Why not fight for something that will?

ALBUM REVIEW: Wye Oak- Shriek (2014)

I will start this review by stating a fact: I am not a previous or long-term fan of Wye Oak. The only knowledge I have of them came via a friend who forwarded to me (sometime last year) an acoustic rendition of their song "Civilian", by way of a youtube video. The haunting vocals combined with a skeletal and foreboding guitar figure, that seemed to ratchet up in intensity until the final explosive climax had me hooked. That song was on repeat for days, but I never thought to explore more of the bands music, and the song got quietly filed away on my ever-expanding iPod classic.

So what to make of this new album, Shriek? Well, for starters, I dare say that the guitars have been almost completely abandoned. While it seems fashionable lately for a lot of previously guitar-oriented bands to start picking up synthesizers and rummaging through WalMart's bargain bins for inspiration from Sounds of the 80's, what Wye Oak achieve on this album seems indicative of something else. There is a deeper purpose to the shiny surfaces and frothy rhythms here, and vocalist/co-songwriter Jenn Weaver explained it in the weeks leading up to the release of the album. Essentially, she was bored of her guitar. After the relentless touring following the monumental success of Wye Oak's previous album, Civilian, Weaver was scared to death of the notion that she would have to now sit down and use the same instruments, and go through the same familiar process to write a follow-up. Change was imminent, and almost inevitable.

The problem facing an artist as revered for specifically those things they are hoping to abandon (ie: layers of guitars, pounding drums, and throbbing bass that swell into cacophonic resolutions, then fade out), will always be: how to move forward without abandoning what fans know and love about the band in the first place? The answer, in Wye Oak's case is... completely obliterate expectation and start from scratch. No looking back, no apologies, no fear.

Shriek is not formulated around the indie-rock precedent of the three-element live-band set up. The sound is built of layers, mainly formulated of oscillating synth lines, bubbling bass, skittering beats, and of course, haunting vocals. Jenn Weaver manages to continue her strong show on the microphone, but on Shriek she lets her voice come to the fore-- it is still somewhat buried in the mix on most of these tunes but it absolutely sparkles, and shimmers, and booms like thunder from the foggy mist. She is an extremely talented vocalist, and while some of the music on Shriek leaves the listener feeling around in the dark, her vocals pin each emotional sentiment to the ground with authority and melodic purpose. Andy Stack, who previously handled drums and production, has now taken the reins of Wye Oak's sound completely under his wing. His clever production manages to wrap the music in a gauzy haze, without completely obscuring it, or marginalizing it, or even, polishing it too much. The sound is, unsurprisingly, related to the pop and rock of the 80's, but the reference points are a little less obvious. These songs do not go immediately for the easy hook, or the brightly spit-shined radio sheen, but instead strike a balance between push and pull. We are hooked in by the beauty, but stick around to unravel the mystery.

I have an inkling that most fans of Wye Oak's previous output will be disappointed with this record, and I don't think I have the right to negate such a sentiment. While I believe this album to be truly beautiful, haunting, engaging, and unique-- I also understand how the intensity of their guitar-based music was impactful in an entirely different way. The emotions on Shriek are fluffed up and come to the surface gradually, with some digging. On Civilian, the emotions were up-front and intense. Shriek is a record that prefers to purr and whisper, even though it does swell and boom in its own delicate way. I implore you to give it a chance to wow you, and if it doesn't... please be Civil.