Geese is Boring
And the scoundrels who insist on shoving charisma-free pop music down our throats
I didn’t go to the festival at Ibirapuera because I was physically and financially exhausted. So many shows, so much hassle to go to shows, so expensive, that instead of FOMO I felt relief for staying home.
November is the Friday of the year. Lots of parties, the eve of Saturday and all that, but after a certain age all you really want to do on Friday is go to sleep as early as possible (philosophically speaking).
But you can’t sleep through the whole of November — not even philosophically. If you’re Billie Joe Armstrong, maybe you can pull off a long nap through September, but November? No way, philosophically speaking.
Mini-chronicle
She walks into his apartment and finds it strange that a man pushing thirty still has a Ramones poster on the wall. She can’t help herself and says, “Funny that it says Too Tough to Die, when they’re all already dead.”
Mini-chronicle 2
Part of the city was still hungover — but happy — after Palmeiras’ 4–0 win. Another part was finishing up Halloween makeup. Most people, though, just wanted to get home and were stuck in the usual Friday-night traffic. She was holding a clown-shaped trash can.
Jack Antonoff, please make bad songs at a slower rate
My friend Thiago recently sent me the video above, from Rick Beato — a musician and producer who became famous on YouTube. You know how I feel about YouTubers and influencers in general, but I like Rick.
This supposed “exposé” of his isn’t new. Since forever, professional songwriters have been writing great songs for talented singers who aren’t great composers.
The problem is that these songwriters are churning stuff out faster and faster. You barely manage to get one bland hit out of your head before another one comes along.
Of course, people prefer to look the other way when they like the artist. “Chico”, by Luísa Sonza, became this brilliant bossa nova and symbol of love — until the guy cheated on her a few months later and everyone realized how ridiculous that little crush was.
There’s nothing wrong with having a ridiculous crush — everyone’s been there. The problem is when people start painting it as some kind of genius — or calling the composer a visionary when he was basically leading a team of songwriters to craft that nonsense.
Charli XCX was stamped as the most brilliant thing in recent pop with her Brat summer. Stop reading for ten seconds and go check the songwriting credits. If you find one track with fewer than three collaborators, it’s a miracle.
The most interesting point Rick Beato makes is that we often argue to defend this or that pop artist. We analyze lyrics as if they were profound — when in reality there’s a huge chance the artist didn’t write a single line.
It’s like that friend who fell in love with a girl in an old chatroom only to find out later he’d been talking to Chicão from Diadema the whole time — a guy who does odd jobs here and there but never misses the chance to pull a small scam. Sad, but true.
I mentioned Jack Antonoff because he’s one of the most in-demand producers and songwriters right now, which means he’s also producing a massive amount of bad music. But you could also look at Amy Allen, Louis Bell, and others.
Thiago also sent me another video showing how some pop songs are built from a very uncreative sequence of just a few notes — sometimes only one. That explains, in part, why I hate The Weeknd so much.
And imagine my disappointment when I tried to learn Samba de uma nota só by Tom Jobim and realized that, in truth, that “one-note samba” is filled with notes I’ll never be able to play.
Geese is boring
A new band is getting hyped and already being hailed as the much-needed savior of rock. The problem is: they’re boring as hell.
Because the lead singer and main songwriter, Cameron Winter, is that kind of artsy, somewhat cute weirdo, he’s taking over all the music sites — and no one seems brave enough to admit that, while there’s an interesting track here and there, most of it is just pretty dull.
It’s like a lab experiment gone wrong — a mix of Nick Cave and Rufus Wainwright. Any responsible scientist would quarantine the area and alert the authorities about the toxic potential of the combination, but people keep spreading the virus. Let’s see how far it goes. I hope I’m wrong, and that he leads a new generation of brilliant musicians.
Hey, you gotta hear this (in the near future?)
On November 7 — known in some circles as next Friday — Wilza will release their new single Terapia.
Go pre-save it here, and go to therapy (if you feel like it).
See you next week.