There There Kid gets promoted in an interview

Mayra Calvani, author of The Slippery Art of Book Reviewing, recently interviewed me as part of her Slippery Art of Book Reviewing series at Blogcritics.org.

The interview mainly focused on the ins and outs of what makes a good book review, but I did get a chance to plug There There Kid along the way:

You also keep a blog, There There Kid. Tell us about it.

There There Kid is a new experiment of mine that I've enjoyed putting together over the past few months. I call it a "weblog of mixed media plus cultural criticism with a literary bent" because I believe that book reviewing (and art in general) doesn't happen within a bubble - it is one way in which we try to connect the seemingly random and absurd aspects of human nature into some form of coherence. There There Kid's essays try to find connections between works of art, such as a book and a CD, that have similarities in theme. It's basically a blog that takes the cultural studies approach to literary criticism and doesn't try to partition art into different categories, which is how I've always approached my own book reviewing.

And, in reference to my work as an editor at Blogcritics:

For our Books section, we are interested in reviewers who write more than just bland plot summary or tip-of-the-iceberg analysis. The best reviews are the ones that dig deep and take on new approaches, and even though every review should give the reader a sense of what the book is like, it should also reveal new and profound insights into how the book influenced the reviewer. In my opinion, most people who read book reviews want to know more than just what happens in the book; they want to know how it all connects personally and culturally.

The same is true for what we expect at There There Kid. We are not out to promote anything in our reviews, but we do want to review the stuff that interests us.

If you're reading this blog for the first time, perhaps you'd like to join us. I've always said that this community cannot thrive without participation, and we are finally starting to see some semblance of participation here on the site.

If you want to write for There There Kid, read our submission guidelines. We're particularly interested in writers who want to write shorter reviews, as described in the submission guidelines section.

Review: Nine Inch Nails - Ghosts I-IV (physical disc release)

by Kevin Eagan

I have to be honest, it came as a big shock to me when I first read that Nine Inch Nails would be leaving Interscope records, opting instead to release their albums independently. Don't get me wrong, Nine Inch Nails has always been a band willing to try new things and branch out into new experiments, but they never struck me as the type of band that would leave behind the marketing machine.

Trent Reznor's creative energy has defined the so-called industrial sounds of 1990s metal. At the same time, his marketing genius (yes, it still exists in music today) created a brand that goes beyond the music. From NIN's popular symbol to the concept of halo (a system that numbers each NIN album that's before its time, the halo series of computer games seeming oddly reminiscent), Reznor's marketing abilities and the label that supported it was a rare breed.

However, Reznor's frustration with his label had nothing to do with the past or his wild success throughout the '90s, it had to do with his rejection of a broken system, a cause many musicians have taken up with the same fury Reznor has displayed. 2007 was the year that many artists sought independence, leaving the major labels wallowing in their own incompetence. Music historians will look back at Reznor's decision as part of a major turning point in the record industry, seen as a time when musicians were taking control and the indie market thrived like never before as a result.

So I won't go over it again or continue the comparisons between Reznor's decision and Radiohead's or any other bands or musicians. The fact is that Nine Inch Nails - the brand, the artistry, and the artist himself - is now free to do whatever it wants in more ways than it ever has nearly twenty years after it broke through with 1989's wildly successful and artistically revolutionary Pretty Hate Machine. Reznor does so with his most ambitious project yet, Ghosts I-IV, an experiment in instrumentation and soundscape that isn't weighed down by political messages or philosophical debates, but is instead out there for the listener to do with it what he or she pleases.

Revolving around four movements, Ghosts I-IV takes all of the electronic noise of 1999's The Fragile and 2007's Year Zero and throws it all together in a random mix; Reznor swears there's no overall theme to Ghosts, but there is plenty of musical beauty that replicates the arid deserts and the fluid oceans in one long breath.

Within Reznor's lengthy and expansive soundscape are some moments of pure bliss, the moments where listeners of NPR's World Cafe can hold hands in unity with the tattooed punks that once defined Reznor's marketability. Ghosts begins with a sublime piano played so quietly that you can hear Reznor's feet shift on the open pedals, and even though the riff he plays sounds oddly familiar, it's haunting enough that it brings you in and keeps you hooked. Electronic choirs hum around the piano as Reznor reveals what haunts him at night, and we're left feeling the presence of something not of this world.

From there, Ghosts starts to sound a bit too familiar, and by the end of its first movement it feels more like the leftover instrumental samples from 2007's Year Zero. Reznor ends this movement with the distorted guitars of his past, excoriating the "ghosts" of his heyday to come back down into the piano and electronic noise of beauty that has solidified his standing as a mature and welcoming musician.

However, by the third and fourth movements of Ghosts, Reznor has you convinced that something has changed, that artistic experimentation is possible without the controlling force of a major label. At the same time, Ghosts doesn't forget the structures and sounds that made NIN what it is today, and Reznor's experiment won't alienate the majority of his fans. If anything, he's brought in new fans, since many listeners now see Nine Inch Nails as an important part of rock music's changing face instead of a flash in the pan.

By the second disc (movements III and IV), the remaining tropes and figures that have defined this record come to the forefront, and even with the masking of industrial noise, a positivity takes over the music. It's as if the listener has finally made it over the arid wasteland to discover an oasis of life, and Reznor is ready to give them something in return. As movement III transitions into IV, the band takes on a fully fledged distortion of sound with beautiful melody, and as IV begins, everything seems to come together and it's no longer about pitting disparate noises against each other, it's about finding some type of coherence in the soundscape, some type of beauty that transcends the sound itself.

Through a completely instrumental experiment, Ghosts I-IV has fully solidified Reznor's standing as a musical pioneer of our time. Even as he sometimes falls into his own bubble of marketing, Reznor has shown that it's all about the music and less about the fans' tastes. Those who have wanted something new from this band should take note: Ghosts I-IV signals that Nine Inch Nails is not interested in the hype, but rather the substance of independent music, and it's willing to yell "fuck you" to the establishment - not because it sounds cool, but because it's necessary. With that, I hope Ghosts I-IV continues the expansive creativity Nine Inch Nails has pioneered over the years, and I look forward to hearing whatever they provide in the future.

Mix Bag #3: Real Change in the Air, Ghosts Among Pyramids, and a Fictional Rock Bio

Mix Bag is a regular feature that brings together a random collection of media and highlights why it all matters to you.

I can't begin this week's Mix Bag without mentioning a very important and historic moment in American history: the Democratic party electing the first African-American presidential candidate. It's not only significant because of its symbolism -- after all, we've struggled for generations in America to transcend racial boundaries -- but it's also significant because of the candidate itself. When Barack Obama started his campaign, most people said he didn't have a chance. Party insiders favored Hillary Clinton, and the other candidates could never break through to the American peoples hearts (or wallets). While Clinton's campaign operated as the presumptive front runner and controlled the candidate in a robotic, corporate PR bubble, Obama gained the trust of voters in Iowa, and from there, Clinton was in trouble. Knowing that Obama was the popular candidate, the Clinton people scrambled to put together ways to discredit him, often in very negative and divisive ways.

By the time Obama wrapped up the nomination, the damage had been done among many of Clinton's core demographics, especially white women, who have been so adamantly opposed to Obama because of perceived misogyny and his lack of connection with working class people. Of course, the Clinton camp was all too eager to play up these perceived biases, and it helped divide the party up among differing demographics.

But among young Americans, Barack Obama was their candidate. Obama had difficulties winning among older whites, especially blue collar workers and those over 40. However, the enthusiasm among young Americans suggests that we are finally emerging from the past battles over civil rights into a post-racial America, an America that can't remember a time when race actually mattered but instead judge a person by their character, not the color of their skin. I will not for a minute sit here and naively pretend that America no longer suffers from racism; indeed, the racial wounds are still fresh, but for many Americans who grew up in an integrated society, race is not the determining factor. Barack Obama is the candidate who is prepared to bring America out of its racist past and into a new century that respects people for who they choose to be, not what they look like.

This is especially important for how America is perceived around the world, and thanks to the Bush administration, we are perceived as aggressors who have no decency or respect for the true rule of law and wage unnecessary wars under the guise of freedom. Barack Obama represents an America that is open and forthright, and an America that is inclusive and respectful, not brash and arrogant. I often read The Huffington Post for my political information, and for a perspective on how the world perceives an Obama administration, read this article, which suggests the world is ready for real change.

Also, Clinton's run for the White House was one full of many missteps and outright hypocrisy (i.e. Michigan and Florida), and to be honest, Bill owes her big time. Much has been said about her poorly managed campaign and mounting debt, and CNN currently has an article up explaining what Clinton should do next.

At this point, I'm willing to throw in my support for Barack Obama, because I see him as our only hope to reinvigorate America's standing in the world. On the other hand, McCain represents more of the same and plans to keep our disrespectful policies intact. Culturally, Obama represents the future of America; young Americans are energized and ready for a civilized discourse about our future.

With all of that politics behind us, let's look at what's going on in music and literature right now. I'm not really sure where to begin, considering we've missed out on a lot since our last Mix Bag (yeah, sorry about that). However, there's plenty going on right now, especially in the world of music. Taking on the cacophony of sound and turning it into art, the Pyramids' latest self-titled album has given me a new perspective on how beautiful sound can be found underneath lots of loud noises. The album takes a lot of the traditions of death metal and combines it with the electronic experimentation that's revived the modern indie underground. They even take on the presidential election in their chaotic song "Hillary."

Equally, Nine Inch Nails has come off their wildly successful break from Interscope Records with Ghosts I-IV, an excellent denouement from the fairly standard NIN styles of Year Zero. Ever since Reznor branched out on The Fragile, he's consistently shown that he's more than another bonehead Marilyn Manson-esque industrial rocker, and Ghosts I-IV is the perfect example of this. At times, the album seems pastoral and reflective, and at other times, anarchic and unpredictable. It's definitely worth purchasing or downloading, and we'll have a review of it up here soon.

In the literary world, I'm currently enjoying Andrew Foster Altschul's Lady Lazarus. Following in the footsteps of many 20th Century authors, Altschul has crafted an ironic account of a fictional rock star's daughter/poet Calliope Bird Morath, and makes use of all sorts of pieces of pop culture and literary history to keep it all together. It's an excellent novel, one that is both a convincing satire of rock biographies and a heartfelt story; you feel connected to the characters in a similar way to how fans get connected to their rock idols.

Well, that's it for now. Of course, we can continue this conversation in the comments section if you're interested...

Review: Snuff by Chuck Palahniuk

by Matthew Ryan


Naughty words have an unmistakable demoralizing toll on an uptight culture. But shocking a (comparatively) puritanical society sometimes has another point, such as George Carlin’s “Seven Dirty Words” monologue in 1972. He was trying to say that an irrational fear of naughty words gets in the way of healthy human discourse. To illustrate the point, he used a lot of naughty words. Not everyone got the joke. That monologue was broadcasted over airwaves and lead to a landmark obscenity law case. As a result, the FCC has more control in regulating the messages that come to us over the air.

Chuck Palahniuk’s message also has a way of being taken the wrong way. Consider the (now) wildly popular film adaptation of his book Fight Club. The core of the movie has a character coming to grips with personal responsibility and had suggestive gay imagery. Much of these meaning was lost on young males who only responded to the brawling and angst. The number of Fight Club posters in fraternity houses and the videogame featuring Fred Durst is proof of the misunderstanding.

Palahniuk’s most recent twisted journey, Snuff, could be misunderstood only if there was some substance behind the naughty words to misunderstand. This novel concerns the fate of porn diva Cassie Wright as she embarks on what is to be her final, historic adult odyssey: World Whore Three. It’s a knock-down, drag-out kind of hardcore production, with a gangbang cast of 600 from all walks of life, including a baseball team straight from the Special Olympics. She doesn’t intend to make it out alive, opting instead to use the royalty and insurance money as a final charitable contribution to her unplanned child, conceived in World Whore One, whose identity is unknown at the outset.

But Cassie, who would have made the most interesting character of all, is behind the scenes for the most part. Our vantage point is limited to dudes 72, 137 and 600; a Wright-obsessed high schooler, a desperate and once-famous TV actor and an experienced “woodsman,” respectively. There’s also the ringleader, Sheila, an angsty sort of feminist with an endless supply colloquialisms for male porn actors. While various incarnations of pud-pullers, yogurt-squirters, shank-shuckers and the like might count as edgy for the MTV demographic, it gets old for anyone with sophistication.

As for the dudes, each fit conveniently into classic porn stereotypes, and all seem to suffer from a bad case of snarkyness and a deficiency of real conflict. Dude 72 is youth whose sex drive is subverted by conservative mother who hypocritically indulges her own appetite via erotic cake-making. Dude 137 is trying to revive his career through the historic gangbang and grapples fears that his past performance in gay porn just was an act of retribution for his Oklahoma upbringing. Dude 600 hasn’t cared since his first love left him. These roles haven’t been cutting-edge for a long time.

The plot is stringy and unremarkable. Events move forward slowly, as most of the time is spent bogged down in the history of each pud-puller. Once the story gains critical momentum, the book has just about reached its overblown finale. The only points Palahniuk earns in plot are some decent twists, which are not as exciting as his previous works but keep the reader invested for a little while longer.

Another hallmark of Palahniuk’s work is an abundance of trivial knowledge, and this book does not break from tradition. There’s mention of the Roman Empress Messalina, who moonlighted as a prostitute and a won an epic sex competition against another famous prostitute of the time. There’s also talk of Marilyn Monroe’s double-life as the intellectual Zelda Zonk, and the harmful effects of Kegel exercise balls filled with mercury. These factoids typically unfold as bite sized stories in themselves, and are mostly allegories for the novel’s subtext. Palahniuk studied journalism in college and its shows in his compulsion to use these elements as much as possible, but the effectiveness of each element is based on how relevant it is to the story.

This time around, most tidbits miss the mark. Sheila has an uncommon medical vocabulary and uses it with reckless abandon. Number 137 is a veritable cornucopia of Hollywood trivia, and Number 600 is the same when it comes to the porn industry. These characters are walking, talking encyclopedia Erotica, but it does little more than give the scene some colorful jargon to match the drapes. At its worst, it comes off as pretentious and distracting.

The sum of Snuff’s parts is an attempt to assess the state of the sexual revolution from several points of view. From Sheila’s perspective, there’s the renewed feminist effort to portray women as studs, conquering male after male to establish as sort of balance of power. From 72’s vantage point, there’s a rebellion against hypocritical sexual repression. We get some gay perspective courtesy of 137, and a nihilistic impression of love from 600. But there’s nothing that goes beyond the most superficial critique of American sexuality, and it all gets diluted with large swaths of naughty words. After the last milk monkey standing, this book delivers as advertised: snuff.