Here's a quick list of music you can fill your Spotify account with in the meantime:
Savages - "Shut Up" - They ask the musical question: What if Geddy Lee had a sex change and sang in a kick-ass post punk revival rock band from London? Answer: It would, and does rule.
Son Volt - "Honky Tonk" (entire album)- I am really into old honky tonk outlaw country right now. And Jay Farrar writes an entire album of fiddle tunes? Fuck me.
Divine Fits - "Ain't That the Way/Chained to Love" - Daniel Britt is too. fucking. talented. I mean, it's not enough to hit homeruns with each and every Spoon album? Nope. He's gotta team up with the guy from Wolf Parade and kick ass in his spare time. I bet his poops are museum quality, rated by the AGA as containing no inclusions.
I like to think of myself as well-citied. By well-citied, I mean that I have spent a fair amount time in most of the major cities east of the mighty Mississippi. (I have no idea what goes on west of the Mississippi. St. Louis aside, I'm pretty sure the rest is still Indian country.)
So, you can believe me when I tell you that the Detroit of 2013 is utterly unique and awesome. I know...going out on a limb here. Let us start with the bones, shall we?
GEOGRAPHY
So, what you need to know about Detroit's basic geography in this, contained in my handy-dandy thesis statement:
"Detroit is an enormous, sprawling, low-rise, thoroughly neighborhood-centric, Temple to the Automobile."
Let's break that down a bit for ye:
Enormous - From a pure geography standpoint, it may be helpful to know that Detroit is bordered by the Detroit River to the east/south, and by NOTHING to the West/North. Well, nothing, at least from a land barrier standpoint (sorry Dearborn).
This allowed Detroit to reach an enormous size as its industry and population grew throughout the late 19th and early 20th centuries:
Sprawling - When you have a city that could quite comfortably support 3 million people (the combined population of San Francisco, Boston, and the Borough of Manhattan), you are talking about an almost incomprehensible amount of land for a city, spread out over MILES and MILES. And you feel this spread. The scale of the city makes me feel a lot like Lily Tomlin.
City blocks are longer. Sidewalks wider. Heck, Detroit's east/west cross-streets are named after how many miles they are from the city center. This is NOT a small place.
It is obvious that this is not a city in which planners were concerned with conserving every square mile of land for use and possible re-use later on. They treated this seeming endless expanse of space with the regard that Dusty Bottoms used for his canteen full of water. Which leads me to my next point...
Low-Rise -There are not a lot of tall buildings in Detroit. Or, at least, as many as you would assume would be a fixture of any major American city. There is downtown. But, once leaving that area, you will be struck by one thing: most of the buildings are no more than 4-5 stories tall. This is by design. This city was designed to be a haven of single-family homes, full of working-man's cottages, large brick Tudors, raised ranches, all built for an emerging middle class.
To my untrained eye, Detroit looks a lot like this.
You cannot miss this point as you wind your way around Detroit. There are relatively few instances where houses actually touch other houses. And then it hit me: "This city was DESIGNED to minimize population density per square mile. Huh." In my experience, this is pretty darned unique, if not a tad bit insane.
Neighborhood-Centric - For me, the heartbeat of Detroit is clearly housed in its thriving neighborhoods.
Exploring Detroit neighborhoods for me is akin to eating Chesapeake bay crabs: Sure, it can be uninteresting, scary, messy work at times. But if you like crabs, it's totally worth it. I guess 'crabs' in this metaphor would be cities? Not sure. Moving on...
Detroit has an almost endless array of unique neighborhoods, each with its own restaurants to eat in, bars to drink in, unique, locally owned businesses to shop in, homes to admire, mature trees to woo over...you get the point. Of course, this a city designed for 3 million people that is currently housing around 700,000. So, you know...you are going to have to wade through some shit and lungs to get to something sweet enough to dab in Old Bay and stick in your mouth. You know what? Let's all forget about crabs for a moment and focus on Detroit's true purpose as...
Temple to the Automobile - Cars rule Detroit. I'm not just talking about the auto industry. This is a city that was designed to be driven. Driven often. And by someone who knows how. Nearly all the major streets have a minimum of 4 lanes, although 6 - 8 is the norm, in my experience. Luxurious and driver-friendly can't even begin to describe it.
Streets in Detroit are also all named in the manner usually reserved for Brazilian soccer players--first names only on the signs. Woodward. Gratiot. Grand River. Fort. Michigan. Mack. Livernois. These aren't just streets--they are living breathing beings--brought to life after years of serving as the lifeblood of Detroit's commerce and community.
The overly elaborate grid of interstate highways that run through Detroit is a marvel of engineering, something that the people who built them should be proud of.
And the parking! So. Many. Spots. Everywhere.
And yet. all of this accommodation to the automobile has left Detroit with a concrete gray pallor that isn't very attractive, and even makes the city look older than her years.
If ever the phrase "using a hatchet when a scalpel was needed" was warranted, it is in the case of the interstate system that bisects neighborhoods throughout the city. Ugly and loud are two words I would use to describe it. Soul-crushing would be another.
To an outsider like myself, this all seems kind of batshit. A kind of asphalt fetishism. Truly a step and a half beyond what most cities have done to accommodate the invention of the automobile.
Detroiters, on the whole, don't seem to notice it. When I have brought it up to natives, they all kind of nod their head and say some variation of, "Yeah. The roads here are kind of wide, huh?" As if I am pointing to the sun and remarking on how yellowish it is. Obvious. Inevitable.
A paradise for hunters, golfers, fishermen, and TREES. Seriously. People have been cutting trees down in this peninsula as fast as they possibly can for 150 years or so, and there are still a shitload left. If I were a tree, I would consider moving there, as the nightlife for trees must be epic indeed. What with the density and all that.
Now Then:
I just spent a week in the lower peninsula of Michigan visiting the family I done married into.
They are good people--the kind of folks who love the Tigers, giving favorite books as gifts, and black and white dogs in almost equal measure.
And then...there is their love of pie.
My! The Pie! Embraced by the clan. Paraded nightly to the post-prandial table in an endless array of fillings and crust configurations. One is expected to have multiple slices.
Or, at least the core family unit is polite enough to ignore my ass as I greedily dig in for thirds. Or fourths.
Needless to say, I am very lucky they have accepted me as one of their own.
Where was I? Oh yeah...
DETROIT.
The Fist of Joe Louis. My favorite public art installation in a town chock full of them. Sure I admire the graceful lines. I also think it functions beautifully as a simple monument to one of the greatest athletes (and Detroiters) of the 20th century. But, mainly because it seems to be pointed right at Canada. As if to say: "Come get a taste, Ontarians".
You may have read a word or two in your local fish-wrapper about where this city has been, where it is now, and where it is heading.
Perhaps it's time for an outsider to give their half-baked opinion about the goings-on. You know, to put things in perspective for both the curious and the pie-deprived.
What's that? You say that there are seven million articles out there already? Each crammed full with their own half- baked opinion, unilaterally written by assholes, with no real perspective on the city they are talking about?
You are correct. And mean...you know...for pointing that out to me.
Still, I have come too far conceptualizing my next week's worth of posts to stop typing now. So go shit in your hat.
Before I begin my misinformed, half-baked rant on Michigan's largest city, one ground rule needs to be laid out:
When I speak of Detroit, I am referring to the actual city of Detroit. Not downriver. Not Oakland County. Certainly not the "Palace of Auburn Hills". Wherever and whatever the fuck that is.
Got it? Good.
Also, here is one topic of conversation I am going to bring up now, if only as a way to explain that I'm not going to talk about it ever again.
Oversimplified Treatise Number One to Explain Detroit's Current Situation:
Detroit has a terrible, violent history of race relations between whites and blacks. Riots, bigotry, racism, redlining, de facto segregation, institutional racism in the workplace...if you can name a way to screw minorities it happened here. And that climate has poisoned Detroit in a way that is unique and different from other cities.
My Reaction? Yawn. In other words, Detroit is an American city. Just like some other cities you may have heard of. Washington DC comes to mind. Or Philly. Or Chicago. Or NYC. And who can forget Boston's stellar race relations over the years?
It is clear (to my uneducated ass at least) that the story of American Urbanism from 1945 onwards can be boiled down to this trend: Whites in cities, often with the help of the Federal Banking System, tried everything they could think of to avoid living and working alongside African Americans. When those attempts ultimately failed, with often violent consequences, those same white families moved to the suburbs. Middle class blacks soon followed. Congratulations Detroit: you're in shameful company. But you're not unique.
Phew. Here's a bit of a palate cleanser after all that heaviness:
PUPPY! SO CUTE! THOSE EARS NEED TO BE RUBBED!
Well, I'm spent. For those of you who would like an editorial calendar, here's how I plan to lay out all me thoughts within the next few posts:
Tuesday: Observations about Detroit--Geography and Neighborhoods
Thursday: Observations about Detroit -- The People and their Interests
Friday: Observations about Detroit -- Current Trends
Monday: Observations about Detroit -- The Future
Should have one up every day around 3:00 Detroit time. See ya then.
No reason to panic. That's what I tell myself, yet for some reason I do worry.
I don't know why I particularly care, but for some reason I am worried that rock is dead.
Dead. Not buried. Just lying in state, like a benevolent despot.
I know this has been written about ALOT, by writers who have thought more about this than I ever will, who's opinions are lapped up by rock-centrics like me that still care (Chuck Klosterman has probably devoted one million words to the subject.).
I am also aware that for every two people who feel the same way I do, there are two people who will flash a middle finger and tell me that I'm wrong.
I get where the "Rock is Alive and Well" crowd is coming from: There are a ton of great acts putting out exciting new music (if you know where to look for it). The SSXW festival is a cultural phenomenon. It is possible to have a new favorite band every week.
I mean, am I a huge hypocrite if I told you that I think this is one of the most exciting eras in the history of live and recorded music, while at the same time eulogizing an entire genre? Yeah.
Here's why I am worried, in a nutshell:
This article about Grizzly Bear. -- Basically, one of the best bands of the past decade is struggling to thrive in today's environment, mostly because the audience for their music is so small. Why is that? It leads me to my next point:
Rock has too many chieftains, too few kings.-- Selling out 3,200 seat venues throughout the northeast is impressive, and there are many bands that can do this in today's post-major label age. However, this generation is not producing bands that can reach that next level. Partly, this is by design--the artists themselves aren't thirsty for that kind of commercial success. Partly, this is simply because there is no longer a road map for that kind of superstardom, and no rock audience for that superstarband even if there were.
If U2 was starting out today, would they be THE U2? Probably not.
Vampire Weekend. -- Look, I'm not saying they aren't an AMAZING band, that I don't tap my toes to everyone of their catchy songs, that I don't own all of their albums. 'Cause I do. I am just saying that if they are the poster child for rock in this new world, then rock is lost.
In the same way rock would have lost if The Cure had become the biggest band in the world in the late 80's, instead of Guns N' Roses. I dunno.
We live in a singles world, and rock has always been about albums. -- Most people don't buy albums. They listen to songs. Songs they find through Spotify, or Rdio, or Pandora, if that's still a thing. They go to YouTube and search for music. They're not listening to the same artist for 50 minutes straight. This type of consumerism benefits pop music, producers, and one-hit wonders. But it is not the world in which albums are of any value at all. Which makes REALLY getting into an artist extremely hard to do. And rock is all about getting REALLY into one band, talking your friend's ear off about them until he/she goes out and buys the album just to shut you up.
I kind of think of it as the epic struggle between twitter and journalism, texting and email, cliffs notes and War and Peace. I am on the losing side of this battle, but I feel pretty good about it.
Rock has become the plaything of the privileged and the overly critical. -- What I call the "Pitchfork" effect. I'm not sure how rock has become the soundtrack of the upper class, the college educated, the enfranchised. But it seems to have happened.
I think about NPR, our most cerebral of media institutions, which intoduces more new rock music in one hour on "All Songs Considered" then an entire days worth of 'rock format' radio. The same outlets which serve up the newest music for your enjoyment also dissect every moment of an album and determine its value for you, free of charge (on a scale from 1 to 10, no less).
The future is firmly the hands of the curators, not the artist, it seems to me.
In the same way that orchestral music eventually became a museum piece. I mean, nobody riots when Stravinsky is played today. "Rite of Spring" is dusted off, played by a competent orchestra, then put back on the same shelf as Bach, Brahms, and Beethoven. How the fuck did that happen?
