How can it be that every TripleJ presenter likes all the stuff that the station plays? What are the odds? I mean, just show your friends a list of ten random J-hyped tracks and ask: Which ones are good and which ones are ordinary? You won't get two people who give the same set of thumbs up or thumbs down. And yet all the people on-air at the Jays love every single song on the station playlist. Of course they do. Well...
Not long after The Black Keys' album was released, one JJJ afternoon presenter back-announced an early airing of 'Lonely Boy'. But instead of just giving us the data, she began to wander off-message on a little critical tangent, confessing that she thought the new Keys' sound was disappointing. At least she got as far as that before suddenly pulling herself up and attempting a hasty disclaimer along the lines of "But it's still an awesome song and an amazing album!". Bit creepy.
On a Tuesday arvo, during a promo for an upcoming show, another announcer, clearly unimpressed - or at least non-plussed - by Korn's collaboration with Skrillex, suggested that this metal track was not necessarily improved by the input of, as he put it, "some dance douche". Ahh! An opinion at last on TripleJ beyond the usual "awesome" or "amazing". It is, however, with much disappointment that I have to report, that the very same announcer came back on-air later and apologized for his "disrespect".
Why would he do this?
Who knows. But it's salient to note that this announcer was sacked from the station a few weeks later.
TripleJ does have a fan forum where listeners can rant about what they don't like. But none of this influences the on-air staff. Try sending a text, expressing a negative opinion when next some (non-specialist) presenter puts the word out after playing the latest indie sensation. Assuming that not every single listener thinks the song is brilliant, the presenter will always sum up the feedback as "mixed" or else announce in a surprised tone "a lot of you are loving this new release from Dickhead Cardigans but - gee - I'm also getting a lot of messages that say you're 'not sure about it'". "Not sure about it" is the J way of saying "hate". She won't say what you really said about it, of course, unless you use the terms "amazing" or "awesome".
This week, we got a taste of a song so awful it is bound to earn high-rotation on the Jays. A slop bucket of air-brushed samples from an ancient Elton John chorus and some piss-weak contemporary hip-hop, it was so repulsive that I can't even remember the name of the artist who shat it out. Was this a late April Fool's day prank or just that the announcers were caught up in the Melbourne Comedy Festival vibe?
No. It was a genuine track. And, of course, they loved it! Or at least they insisted that they did. Their guest, however, a well-known stream-of-consciousness comic from the U.K., didn't like the track at all. As he was about to explain why, the TripleJ lads quickly cut him off with some guff about how the artist was a good bloke and a friend of the program.
On the release of the debut long player from one of the Jays' little darlings - a certain indie-pop band from the sunny west coast - listener reviews were not unanimously favourable. Oh dear. Scrolling down the feature album feedback page, Triplej's morning announcer told us that while most of the fans were lovin it, other people "had their own thoughts". She quoted a couple of the "lovin it" variety - lots of "amazings" and "awesomes" - but left the negative comments alone.
Why would she do that?
All was revealed, however, when some months later the TripleJ breakfast announcers let their dads review a weak album by a highly promoted 'indie songstress' who had somehow crossed over to JJJ Coolsville from an aborted career at Australian Idol. After Dad informed the boys that, frankly, this week's feature album was a lake of shite, both announcers protested with "you can't say that. She's our FRIEND".
Does TripleJ actually have a charter, some kind of policy whereby nothing can be panned by on-air staff? What if an announcer really doesn't like some track that they have to play? Aren't they permitted to state an informed opinion? Does TripleJ think that a song that is given a thumbs down by one presenter must necessarily be hated by all presenters and therefore shouldn't be hyped by the station at all? Again, bit creepy.
Nevertheless, whether brilliant or crap, 'friends' will always be played on TripleJ.
And, ladies and gents, isn't that what our tax money is for?
Rip
Thursday 1 March 2012
Wednesday 29 February 2012
Never mind the quality, feel the hype
A few months ago TripleJ launched a weekly TV show. Because apparently we can't get enough of the Jays on radio, whether analog or digital, via studio webcam thru iPhone or Mac or PC, standard Js or Unearthed. So now they put gigs on TV - gigs that anyone can watch online anytime, mind you. And why not? It helps fill the Australian content quota on ABC TV. Cheap too. And the punters just love all the music, don't they? Well, not quite all of it.
One night in particular saw an unseemly torrent of pottymouth criticism of the Jays on Facebook. A certain trio of ladies - a trio who had enjoyed extraordinary publicity throughout the nation via press, radio and TV promotion - were due to air on TripleJ TV's second outing. "Who's looking forward to this!" enthused TripleJ's social media arms. "Who's up for some great Aussie music tonight!"
Oops. Oh, dear. The texts and tweets arriving were not exactly full of praise. Decorum prevents me from repeating the word-for-word contents but suffice it to say a whole bunch of Jay listeners weren't nearly as enthusiatic as the programmers about the upcoming telecast. How could this be?
"We love Australian music!"... don't we?
Is it unfair to target the particular artists involved in this case? Or are there lots of bands that TripleJ hypes, who are also objectively, really ordinary. Or even just plain crap?
Let's look at the ladies in question.
Lady 1 got famous thanks to the quality of her songwriter/producer. Indeed, after she ditched him, her music became as thin as her lyrics. Here's a sample of the latter...
"No one wants to be lonely, but what am I to do,
I'm just trying to be honest, I don't want to hurt you too".
"Thinking of him each day, when he is miles away,
You know it won't serve you well, it's better for time to tell".
"But yours is a face my mind won't erase
and I know I can't say goodbye".
Not exactly Emily Dickinson. Indeed almost all of her songs are just cut and paste versions of the "relationship confusion" sentiments expressed with rhyming cliches. And once she started to have a crack at writing music and structuring songs, well, just listen to the output and be underwhelmed. Someone should really have taught her more than four open chords on a guitar. Check out a Youtube clip of a London gig. It is embarassingly bad.
Lady 2 has perhaps the weakest voice of any singer you'll ever hear outside of a kindy carpet singalong... BUT she does have a mum who has been an institution at ABC music radio for decades. Now that would in no way give her a leg-up in the promotions stakes. How dare anyone draw such an inference.
And then we get to lady 3. What can you say about her Like a Version performance and her Diana requiem tune? Inspiring, uplifting?
"Get yourself up, get yourself out of bed, this is a new day today!", she implores us in a breathy croak over a chord structure about as interesting and harmonically rich as the backing track for a breakfast cereal ad.
But put these 3 princesses of pop together in one supergroup and what do get!
"You know you always can rely on me, you can rely on, ly on, you know you can rely on me, when you go I always leave a light on, light on, I leave a light on light on, and you know you always have been right on, right on [etc etc] "
All of it performed over a 1980 Casio shuffle beat and the same four chords in a dirge of mind-numbing blandness.
And then came the TripleJ TV promo...
A whole bunch of listeners gave the ladies a huge thumbs down on the Facebook page. They weren't excited about the upcoming show at all. In fact the big-up of the ladies was the catalyst for an extraordinary expression of disenchantment with TripleJ programming decisions.
Don't these listeners know that all Aussie music played on TripleJ is amazing?
Rip
One night in particular saw an unseemly torrent of pottymouth criticism of the Jays on Facebook. A certain trio of ladies - a trio who had enjoyed extraordinary publicity throughout the nation via press, radio and TV promotion - were due to air on TripleJ TV's second outing. "Who's looking forward to this!" enthused TripleJ's social media arms. "Who's up for some great Aussie music tonight!"
Oops. Oh, dear. The texts and tweets arriving were not exactly full of praise. Decorum prevents me from repeating the word-for-word contents but suffice it to say a whole bunch of Jay listeners weren't nearly as enthusiatic as the programmers about the upcoming telecast. How could this be?
"We love Australian music!"... don't we?
Is it unfair to target the particular artists involved in this case? Or are there lots of bands that TripleJ hypes, who are also objectively, really ordinary. Or even just plain crap?
Let's look at the ladies in question.
Lady 1 got famous thanks to the quality of her songwriter/producer. Indeed, after she ditched him, her music became as thin as her lyrics. Here's a sample of the latter...
"No one wants to be lonely, but what am I to do,
I'm just trying to be honest, I don't want to hurt you too".
"Thinking of him each day, when he is miles away,
You know it won't serve you well, it's better for time to tell".
"But yours is a face my mind won't erase
and I know I can't say goodbye".
Not exactly Emily Dickinson. Indeed almost all of her songs are just cut and paste versions of the "relationship confusion" sentiments expressed with rhyming cliches. And once she started to have a crack at writing music and structuring songs, well, just listen to the output and be underwhelmed. Someone should really have taught her more than four open chords on a guitar. Check out a Youtube clip of a London gig. It is embarassingly bad.
Lady 2 has perhaps the weakest voice of any singer you'll ever hear outside of a kindy carpet singalong... BUT she does have a mum who has been an institution at ABC music radio for decades. Now that would in no way give her a leg-up in the promotions stakes. How dare anyone draw such an inference.
And then we get to lady 3. What can you say about her Like a Version performance and her Diana requiem tune? Inspiring, uplifting?
"Get yourself up, get yourself out of bed, this is a new day today!", she implores us in a breathy croak over a chord structure about as interesting and harmonically rich as the backing track for a breakfast cereal ad.
But put these 3 princesses of pop together in one supergroup and what do get!
"You know you always can rely on me, you can rely on, ly on, you know you can rely on me, when you go I always leave a light on, light on, I leave a light on light on, and you know you always have been right on, right on [etc etc] "
All of it performed over a 1980 Casio shuffle beat and the same four chords in a dirge of mind-numbing blandness.
And then came the TripleJ TV promo...
A whole bunch of listeners gave the ladies a huge thumbs down on the Facebook page. They weren't excited about the upcoming show at all. In fact the big-up of the ladies was the catalyst for an extraordinary expression of disenchantment with TripleJ programming decisions.
Don't these listeners know that all Aussie music played on TripleJ is amazing?
Rip
F**K festivals
Festivals are killing music. TripleJ knows this and yet it promotes festivals like the Catholic church promotes the Stations of the Cross. TripleJ promotes festivals because it has to. There just ain't enough venues for the thousands of bands being hyped by TripleJ and TripleJ Unearthed. Each week Unearthed spews out another "amazing" or "awesome" featured artist. That's 52 new bands a year looking for gigs. Where are they gonna play? There are already thousands of established artists struggling to get into these rooms. The new kiddies can play at the festivals, of course! Festivals can put 52 acts on the bill and no one will give a toss whether any of them are any good because - let's face it - no one goes to festivals to listen to the music. You go to festivals to hook up/or and get shit-faced.
Trouble is, some of the festivals are already folding. The market is saturated. The festivals have become bloated Disneyworlds, where music is just the background, the excuse for spending ten hours of enforced intimacy with 5000 dickheads you would normally cross the road to avoid.
No musician wants to play festivals. Unless they're headlining, of course. Festivals are not about music, they are about big crowds. Punters aren't there to listen to bands, they are there because they can move from one act to the next when they get bored. If you want to listen to a band, you go to the band's gig. But, of course, the gigs are drying up too.
TripleJ has now started a campaign (SLAM) to get people out to gigs. The promotional vox-pops feature kiddies talking about how "amazing" it is to see musicians up close and raw, unassisted by their studio production team. Wow. Who'd a thought it?
Of course, live music goes on in venues seven nights a week across the country. Masterful musicians are at work in bars and clubs and concerts all over the place - but TripleJ listeners would never get to hear of any of these performers. Because they aren't fashionable. They aren't on TripleJ. Chicken and egg.
What TripleJ listeners get to hear - and hear lots of - are the fashionable bands. TripleJ loves them. TripleJ loves Snakadaktal and San Cisco and Cloud Control and Tame Impala because they have the look - whatever this month's look happens to be. As for musicianship? Who gives a shit. TripleJ is not about music: it's about what's in fashion. Change the fashions fast enough and you solve the "too many bands on the circuit" problem. Last month's darlings are replaced by the next big thing before you can say "indie". And who cares which indie acts are on the bill at festivals anyway? They are all the same.
Rip
Trouble is, some of the festivals are already folding. The market is saturated. The festivals have become bloated Disneyworlds, where music is just the background, the excuse for spending ten hours of enforced intimacy with 5000 dickheads you would normally cross the road to avoid.
No musician wants to play festivals. Unless they're headlining, of course. Festivals are not about music, they are about big crowds. Punters aren't there to listen to bands, they are there because they can move from one act to the next when they get bored. If you want to listen to a band, you go to the band's gig. But, of course, the gigs are drying up too.
TripleJ has now started a campaign (SLAM) to get people out to gigs. The promotional vox-pops feature kiddies talking about how "amazing" it is to see musicians up close and raw, unassisted by their studio production team. Wow. Who'd a thought it?
Of course, live music goes on in venues seven nights a week across the country. Masterful musicians are at work in bars and clubs and concerts all over the place - but TripleJ listeners would never get to hear of any of these performers. Because they aren't fashionable. They aren't on TripleJ. Chicken and egg.
What TripleJ listeners get to hear - and hear lots of - are the fashionable bands. TripleJ loves them. TripleJ loves Snakadaktal and San Cisco and Cloud Control and Tame Impala because they have the look - whatever this month's look happens to be. As for musicianship? Who gives a shit. TripleJ is not about music: it's about what's in fashion. Change the fashions fast enough and you solve the "too many bands on the circuit" problem. Last month's darlings are replaced by the next big thing before you can say "indie". And who cares which indie acts are on the bill at festivals anyway? They are all the same.
Rip
Tuesday 28 February 2012
It's all about music. Yeah, right.
Musicians don't listen to TripleJ. They listen to records and they go looking online and elsewhere for music. They go see lots of concerts by people who they admire and can learn from. They listen to old stuff, unhyped stuff, interesting stuff... good stuff. They don't listen to Australia's youth music station.
A quick scan of the Hottest 100 Top Ten tunes will show you why.
10. 'I love it'
Generic hiphop with all the angsty punch of a Hillsong sermon. Dull.
9. 'Endless Summer'
Sub-U2 stadium bland. Instantly forgettable.
8. 'Boys like you'
Pretendy tough-guy's self-obsessed raving meets nursery-rhyme. Dopey.
7. 'Awkward'
Throwaway gimmick tune made even worse by incompetent vocals. Use-by date...?
6. 'Video Games'
Leaden, ponderous, faux ballad. Contrived emotion, didn't work.
5. 'Midnight City'
Soul-less electro dance, suitable only for TV soapie theme. Snore.
4. 'Feeding Line'
Too restrained to be pop or rock; too much drums to be folk. Whistling solos and 'whoa, ho' backing vocals everywhere. Are these fellows Snow White's housemates?
3. 'Brother'
Weird animal sounds do not make a song. Somebody get this dude a vet.
2. 'Lonely Boy'
Sanitized pseudo blues-rock. Repetitive without being catchy.
1. 'Somebody that I used to know'
Just watch a live version of this tedious dirge. Baa, baa, black sheep. Musical black hole.
Not one of these "amazing" (TripleJ's favourite term of assessment - apart from "awesome" of course) tracks will be still played or covered in years to come.
See, it's not really about music: it's about fashion. Like you didn't already know that?
Rip
A quick scan of the Hottest 100 Top Ten tunes will show you why.
10. 'I love it'
Generic hiphop with all the angsty punch of a Hillsong sermon. Dull.
9. 'Endless Summer'
Sub-U2 stadium bland. Instantly forgettable.
8. 'Boys like you'
Pretendy tough-guy's self-obsessed raving meets nursery-rhyme. Dopey.
7. 'Awkward'
Throwaway gimmick tune made even worse by incompetent vocals. Use-by date...?
6. 'Video Games'
Leaden, ponderous, faux ballad. Contrived emotion, didn't work.
5. 'Midnight City'
Soul-less electro dance, suitable only for TV soapie theme. Snore.
4. 'Feeding Line'
Too restrained to be pop or rock; too much drums to be folk. Whistling solos and 'whoa, ho' backing vocals everywhere. Are these fellows Snow White's housemates?
3. 'Brother'
Weird animal sounds do not make a song. Somebody get this dude a vet.
2. 'Lonely Boy'
Sanitized pseudo blues-rock. Repetitive without being catchy.
1. 'Somebody that I used to know'
Just watch a live version of this tedious dirge. Baa, baa, black sheep. Musical black hole.
Not one of these "amazing" (TripleJ's favourite term of assessment - apart from "awesome" of course) tracks will be still played or covered in years to come.
See, it's not really about music: it's about fashion. Like you didn't already know that?
Rip
Saturday 25 February 2012
Shittest 100: what's gone wrong with TripleJ
What do anarchists and libertarians have in common? Both believe that the state can too easily become too powerful, too influential within domains where it has no moral legitimacy. Sure, we have governments because we must have a body to manage the armed forces and the police, administer the laws and redistribute taxes. But why, for example, should governments fund sports, film production, theatre, art galleries, writers' festivals, TV channels showing drama and comedy, or radio stations devoted to music?
Theorists can of course debate over this topic for ever. So let's make the issue more specific.
Why are we all paying for TripleJ? Who makes the playlists? And when did it become cool for the government to anoint each new fashion in popular music?
First some history. TripleJ began as 2JJ back in the 1974. For years, it was run from a cramped, makeshift, almost Dickensian suite of rooms in a rabbit warren off William Street, Kings Cross. You could only pick it up in Sydney, and often only when the geographic and atmospheric conditions between you and the transmitter were favourable. The program presenters as I remember them were hairy, counterculture stoners, mostly rejects from commercial radio, older dudes and and ladies who had their own comprehensive record collections and who were permitted - encouraged even - to bring stuff in to work and share their gold with the listeners. When the station opened, I was in high school, I heard the very first broadcast, and I loved it.
Sure, this was government radio from the get-go. But to the limited and loyal listenership, it felt more like a secret society. In the world at large, whether you were hanging at the shopping mall, buying a pie at the beachside takeaway or being stalked on Parramatta Road by a GTS Monaro with its windows down, you did not hear 2JJ. Suburban and city clubs weren't interested in this 'alternative' station's catalog; they had their own, well-patronised discos and cover bands. And in the workplace, God help you if you tried to shift the radio dial from high-rating 2SM or one of its clones for a break from the 20-hits playlist and constant, intrusive promotions. Because, inevitably, most of your bogan workmates just didn't 'get' the Jays.
Throughout the eighties, Double (and then Triple) J maintained its niche market and cool image by playing the stuff the others wouldn't touch. In tandem with the burgeoning pub rock scene, The Jays helped Aussie music in particular to reach many formerly disenfranchised younger punters across the country. But during the nineties, noting the expanding broadcast coverage of Australia's 'youth network', the commercial stations themselves began to mine TripleJ for potential hits. Obviating the need to risk sponsor-paid airtime by trying out alternative sounds, the mainstream simply watched and waited while the Jays broke the new waves of music rolling in from New York or London, Seattle or Manchester or wherever. Then, three months after JJJ had discovered the next big thing, MMM, for example, would start flogging it. A good business strategy indeed.
During the naughties however things really began to move at TripleJ. After a major overhaul of on-air staff some years earlier TripleJ had acquired the vibe of a slick corporate house. Presenters became younger and segments snappier, station IDs and promotions more frequent and gratutious. With a frontline roster boasting former stand-up comedians, TV satirists and indie rock stars TripleJ was becoming more and more a celebrity circle. At last the Jays were seriously challenging the other music networks in the ratings, and didn't they know it.
"We love Australian music!" became the raison d'etre, the mission statement, expressed in a constant chant of ever-younger promotional voices. And to demonstrate its zeal, the station had ramped up its regional and city-based talent contests in an almost maniacal search for new bands to hype. Weren't there sufficient already? By the second decade of the new millenium all this "unearthing" had finally become too costly and labour-intensive an exercise. Where others may have ditched the competition concept altogether, TripleJ's masterstroke was to set up an entire alternative station using easy-access digital platforms, a skeleton staff and minimal
hardware. Unknown bands no longer had to wait for the Unearthed wagon to roll into their town. Now, all they had to do was record themselves and send a file and photo in to TripleJ for cataloguing. Instead of scouts going out looking for talent, the talent would simply come to the station. Another great business strategy.
All that talent delivered to the door free of charge. Win win... or was it?
Well, what indeed have we got for our tax dollar? What's being hyped on one or other of the Jays these days?
Have a scan of the Unearthed Charts - if you have a spare month or two. And try to find anything that is actually any good.
Have a sample listen to the "Hottest 100" and ask yourself honestly whether or not there's more than a handful of strong, well-crafted, emotion-laden pieces of music that will still matter in the future.
I'll get back to you shortly.
Bye for now.
Rip.
Theorists can of course debate over this topic for ever. So let's make the issue more specific.
Why are we all paying for TripleJ? Who makes the playlists? And when did it become cool for the government to anoint each new fashion in popular music?
First some history. TripleJ began as 2JJ back in the 1974. For years, it was run from a cramped, makeshift, almost Dickensian suite of rooms in a rabbit warren off William Street, Kings Cross. You could only pick it up in Sydney, and often only when the geographic and atmospheric conditions between you and the transmitter were favourable. The program presenters as I remember them were hairy, counterculture stoners, mostly rejects from commercial radio, older dudes and and ladies who had their own comprehensive record collections and who were permitted - encouraged even - to bring stuff in to work and share their gold with the listeners. When the station opened, I was in high school, I heard the very first broadcast, and I loved it.
Sure, this was government radio from the get-go. But to the limited and loyal listenership, it felt more like a secret society. In the world at large, whether you were hanging at the shopping mall, buying a pie at the beachside takeaway or being stalked on Parramatta Road by a GTS Monaro with its windows down, you did not hear 2JJ. Suburban and city clubs weren't interested in this 'alternative' station's catalog; they had their own, well-patronised discos and cover bands. And in the workplace, God help you if you tried to shift the radio dial from high-rating 2SM or one of its clones for a break from the 20-hits playlist and constant, intrusive promotions. Because, inevitably, most of your bogan workmates just didn't 'get' the Jays.
Throughout the eighties, Double (and then Triple) J maintained its niche market and cool image by playing the stuff the others wouldn't touch. In tandem with the burgeoning pub rock scene, The Jays helped Aussie music in particular to reach many formerly disenfranchised younger punters across the country. But during the nineties, noting the expanding broadcast coverage of Australia's 'youth network', the commercial stations themselves began to mine TripleJ for potential hits. Obviating the need to risk sponsor-paid airtime by trying out alternative sounds, the mainstream simply watched and waited while the Jays broke the new waves of music rolling in from New York or London, Seattle or Manchester or wherever. Then, three months after JJJ had discovered the next big thing, MMM, for example, would start flogging it. A good business strategy indeed.
During the naughties however things really began to move at TripleJ. After a major overhaul of on-air staff some years earlier TripleJ had acquired the vibe of a slick corporate house. Presenters became younger and segments snappier, station IDs and promotions more frequent and gratutious. With a frontline roster boasting former stand-up comedians, TV satirists and indie rock stars TripleJ was becoming more and more a celebrity circle. At last the Jays were seriously challenging the other music networks in the ratings, and didn't they know it.
"We love Australian music!" became the raison d'etre, the mission statement, expressed in a constant chant of ever-younger promotional voices. And to demonstrate its zeal, the station had ramped up its regional and city-based talent contests in an almost maniacal search for new bands to hype. Weren't there sufficient already? By the second decade of the new millenium all this "unearthing" had finally become too costly and labour-intensive an exercise. Where others may have ditched the competition concept altogether, TripleJ's masterstroke was to set up an entire alternative station using easy-access digital platforms, a skeleton staff and minimal
hardware. Unknown bands no longer had to wait for the Unearthed wagon to roll into their town. Now, all they had to do was record themselves and send a file and photo in to TripleJ for cataloguing. Instead of scouts going out looking for talent, the talent would simply come to the station. Another great business strategy.
All that talent delivered to the door free of charge. Win win... or was it?
Well, what indeed have we got for our tax dollar? What's being hyped on one or other of the Jays these days?
Have a scan of the Unearthed Charts - if you have a spare month or two. And try to find anything that is actually any good.
Have a sample listen to the "Hottest 100" and ask yourself honestly whether or not there's more than a handful of strong, well-crafted, emotion-laden pieces of music that will still matter in the future.
I'll get back to you shortly.
Bye for now.
Rip.
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