Monkey Gone To Heaven?
The Pixies are reuniting. Monkey gone to hell-in-a-hand basket.
For those of us in our late 20's - early 40's, this may mean something. My university years were flavored by bands like the Pixies, Dinosaur Jr., Nine Inch Nails. I can look back fondly on the almost anthem-like quality of Pixie's album, Doolittle. But I suppose that's where it ends for me. There's something sad about a sober, 30 something standing in a mosh pit. Are mosh pits around anymore?
Everyone knows the woes of recording artists in today's musical piracy environment. If you can muster up some sympathy, which I suppose I have a little bit, considering I am in the creative biz, then you can understand the need to come up with less coop-ed forms of selling yourself. It's no longer solvent for an old rocker to sit around and rake in the dough from past albums, when people are downloading them for free. This is where the concept of survival of the fittest comes in--those who can still rock out in a live venue, will. (Didn't I see something about a Beach Boys tour recently?) Rock dinosaurs are emerging from their long hiatus and hitting the tour trail, desperate to maintain their lifestyle and annual property taxes.
According to an Associated Press interview with Mr. Black (aka Black Francis, Frank Black Francis -- whatever) "the business is with the real customers, the fans." The legendary Pixies will now focus their energies into touring, singles, loads of merchandise, and live albums of the concert. Instant, fast cash. We'll see where it takes them, and what new forms of product will emerge out of the record industry's current plight.
As for me, I'm a little frightened about the trend-- frankly, there are some musicians who should stay hidden away in their California estates. Good memories are better than bad realities, I always say.
Cheers,
Aleah
For those of us in our late 20's - early 40's, this may mean something. My university years were flavored by bands like the Pixies, Dinosaur Jr., Nine Inch Nails. I can look back fondly on the almost anthem-like quality of Pixie's album, Doolittle. But I suppose that's where it ends for me. There's something sad about a sober, 30 something standing in a mosh pit. Are mosh pits around anymore?
Everyone knows the woes of recording artists in today's musical piracy environment. If you can muster up some sympathy, which I suppose I have a little bit, considering I am in the creative biz, then you can understand the need to come up with less coop-ed forms of selling yourself. It's no longer solvent for an old rocker to sit around and rake in the dough from past albums, when people are downloading them for free. This is where the concept of survival of the fittest comes in--those who can still rock out in a live venue, will. (Didn't I see something about a Beach Boys tour recently?) Rock dinosaurs are emerging from their long hiatus and hitting the tour trail, desperate to maintain their lifestyle and annual property taxes.
According to an Associated Press interview with Mr. Black (aka Black Francis, Frank Black Francis -- whatever) "the business is with the real customers, the fans." The legendary Pixies will now focus their energies into touring, singles, loads of merchandise, and live albums of the concert. Instant, fast cash. We'll see where it takes them, and what new forms of product will emerge out of the record industry's current plight.
As for me, I'm a little frightened about the trend-- frankly, there are some musicians who should stay hidden away in their California estates. Good memories are better than bad realities, I always say.
Cheers,
Aleah
