Let's Talk About Girls

Have you ever read the 33 1/3 album review of Celine Dion's Let's Talk About Love album? I can't recommend it enough. 33 1/3 is waging a one-series war to keep pop music criticism alive. The series gives a music critic an album and book length to review it. By all accounts, the series is a fantastic success, but the review of Miss Dion's magnus opus is probably the most cited and most read.

The setup: 33 1/3 gave a hipster dude one year and the most horrible of tasks: to learn to appreciate Dion's music. What makes the book so awesome is that the dude actually gets there. By the end of the book, he states that he really, truly enjoys Dion's music, and this reader completely believes him.

How did he get there? First, he acknowledged that, technically, Celine Dion is amazing. Each and every person reading this blog has rolled their eyes at Dion's "oversinging," but we should all be able to admit that her voice is amazing, that there's nothing she can't do with it. So why do so many people have such a visceral negative reaction to Dion's music, when she's such an obvious, undeniable talent?

The author's contention is that the hate stems from the class consciousness of the listener. He shows how Dion's music has its roots in genres traditionally favored by the working class, genres that upper and middle class listeners have learned to reject as a way to separate themselves from "the rabble." The pop culture industry took that class consciousness and made it mass consciousness. In other words, they made it uncool. I don't want to like something that sounds like something the female students at Tech School might listen to.

In short, what we think of a piece of art depends highly on the trappings that surround it. Dress something (like country music) up in the clothes of Red America, and people like me are going to hate all of it, even despite the undeniable talent of someone like Alan Jackson. Dress something up in upper middle class clothes, language, mannerisms, and experience, and people like me will fall for it.

I can't stop thinking about that review when I hear people talk about Girls. If you like Girls, bully for you. I liked Entourage, because it was a fairy tale very typical to someone of my age at that point in time. However, I never claimed that Entourage was particularly good or meaningful. Girls is getting such accolades, and we have the class trappings of the show and its target audience to thank for it.

Girls is not original, profound, or even particularly well done. It trades in exactly the same shock aesthetic as the worst reality TV: promiscuous sex, bad behavior, and balling with no concern for real life trivialities like a job. It's JUST rich 20 something white girls pretending to be broke but otherwise acting like Real Housewives. You can argue that allowing young women a venue to express their sexuality on their terms is a good thing, but it's not like that hasn't been done before. Sure, there's some angst, but that's because, in the upper class 20 something worldview, there's SUPPOSED to be angst. It's not a very fulfilling fairy tale for the rich and elite if they don't rage against something. If you're just happy all the time, you must be stupid. You probably like Celine Dion or something.

But unlike the Real Housewives, these girls wear respectable clothes. They went to the right schools. Their vocabulary could ace the SAT Verbal. And, of course, Lena Dunham comes from NYC art royalty, so how could she possibly make something mundane? These cues, and these cues alone, have been enough to convince Very Important People (thanks, Paul) that Girls is an important snapshot of our cultural gestalt.

I don't begrudge the twenty something who are into the show, because, shit, every generation should get to retell the same old story in a way that resonates with them. If young women want their own Entourage, they should get it and enjoy it. What bothers me is older folks who should know better.

PS: I'm willing to grant a little ground on one of the most criticized aspects of the show, which is Lena Dunham's willingness to be naked on screen. Potentially positive message about body types and beauty there.

The Juan Maclean Isn't Terrible

In the fall of 2005, an ambitious young hipster named Cereffusion wanted to impress the cool, older kids, so he recommended this hip new music act he discovered.  The only problem is that they were terrible.  Cliched.  Pretentious.  Boring.  So the cool, older kids laughed at poor Cereffusion, who was so sad that he grew a beard.

However, time exonerated the plucky upstart.  Somewhere between 2005 and 2009, The Juan Maclean learned how to make songs like "No Time."  Cereffusion's faith had been rewarded, because what was once pretentious and boring had blossomed into something pretty and funky, in a post LCD Soundsystems white hipster kinda way.  Near as I can tell, it's also a love song between a human and a robot.  Yes, please.

He also shaved the beard.  Truly, it is a heady time for our protagonist.

The Three Best White Breakup Songs

Yes, we are going to Jim Crow this category, for a couple reasons.  As we'll see, a song by a white artist inspired this list, so I'm in a white artist kinda mood.  Besides, picking the best breakup songs by black artists is exceptionally easy.  Marvin Gaye conveniently collected them all on one record.

These songs are ranked by my love for them, and the rankings conveniently dovetails with their place on the continuum of "how far along are you in the breakup?"  The further we go down the list, the further into despair we descend.

3. "Never Talking to You Again" Husker Du: It's gotta kill Bob Mould that the best Husker song was Grant Hart and an acoustic guitar, right?  Especially since this song might be about him?  This is the song you bump when you've tried everything to fix the relationship, but it only gets worse.  You're just too exhausted to try anything else, and you just want the other person to go away as quickly as possible, but "as quickly as possible" takes years too long.

2. "Serpents" Sharon Van Etten: Admittedly, I just found this song within the last two weeks.  It hasn't passed the test of the time like the other two, but I complete confidence it will, since, like, I haven't stopped listening to it for the last 72 hours.  This song is a brilliant, confused mess.  Van Etten is alternately magnanimous and furious but always bitter and resigned.  She's trying to convince the listener that she's done with this arsehole, but you both know she's lying.  She might want to be done, but not enough lamps have been smashed yet.  You're living this song when you're smack dab in the middle of the awful breakup.  You kind of suspect things have to end, but you can't do it yet, and you are a complete and utter emotional train wreck.  Believe it or not, Van Etten and her band (especially the drummer) pack all this confusion into three minutes of mid-tempo rock perfection.

1. "Rid of Me" PJ Harvey: Ultimately, though, Van Etten can't displace her heroine, at least not at the top of my list.  With this song, words utterly fail me.  I might as well try to describe enlightenment.  Imagine Surfer Rosa without a smidge of humor, channeled through Howlin Wolf and John Lee Hooker, and taken to a very, very dark place.  Then imagine a broken heart can transform quiet, unassuming Goth girl into a malevolent force of nature.  There's simply no way to stand against "Rid of Me."  If Polly Jean wants to destroy you, she will, and I can either pray for you or organize a wake for you.  Unlike the first two songs on this list, this song contains not an ounce of resignation.  This is the sound you make three days after she tells you and it finally sinks in, if you were capable of anger that could summon the gods.

Please note: I am only referring to the album version.  "4 Track Demos" sucks.

The Joys of Turntable

Homes, have you heard the Good News?  Old people can be cool again, all thanks to a little web site called Turntable.  

I know, I know.  Turntable is not exactly breaking news to a lot of you, and you've probably heard me sing its praises sometimes since I joined 7 months ago.  This message is not for you, however.

Old folks like myself tend to miss when new music technologies break.  I got in on Pandora about two years late (as Joni Klopp will be happy to remind you), and stuff like last.fm and Kaaza are still mysteries to me.  As a consequence, the new music I found was limited to whatever I could scrounge up from my friends' blogs and radio shows.  It is a very distressing part of getting older when you start to be not that good at the things that used to matter a lot.  There's only so many times a thirtysomething can talk about the new album by that band they loved in college before s/he feels lame.

But there is hope, and it's Turntable.  Turntable is nice in part because it's so approachable.  Instead of a soulless interface, you get cute little avatars like the ones pictured above.  When you DJ, if people like your song, they hit the "awesome" button, and you get a point.  As you get more points, you can get cooler avatars.  It's a brilliant idea, because it creates an incredibly positive atmosphere.  Everyone wants points, so everyone pretty much awesomes every song.  All that happens if someone doesn't like your songs is that they head over to another room with a different theme.  

So old heads, we can get on and play our My Bloody Valentines and our Gang Starrs, and we'll get head nods, and we'll feel good because we haven't lost it THAT much.  And because we're feeling good and listening to music theme that we like, we're hearing new stuff from the type of people who seek out and awesome MBV and the Foundation.  Combine that with Spotify or Google, and all of a sudden you're up on the new sh!t once again.  Once again, you will impress the cooler friends at your very adult cocktail parties.

Afterword: Right now I'm spinning hip hop in the Shaolin Temple, and the crew wants a shout out.  If y'all want to hear some real hip hop, come on in.  I'll awesome whatever you play.

A Valentine for You

Having done a lot of gratitude posts lately, I was a little hesitant to go forward with the following concept for Valentine's Day.  I'm also conscious of not blowing up anyone's spot.  I guess it's ok to put people's names in these blog entries, but I do want to respect the privacy of everyone, especially the people for which I am most grateful.

But then I thought again.  The world needs nothing so much as it needs joy, equanimity, compassion, and kindness.  In that spirit, Happy Valentine's Day to everyone, but especially to the following people.  I'm keeping names out of it, but I'll be as specific as I can so you know when you're getting shouted out.

The Anthem.  Get Your Damn Hands Up

• To my family, for everything ever but especially for their support over the last year.
• To my professional colleagues who have stood by me through the last year.  I learned that the upper boundary of the best behavior from caring, dedicated professionals is much higher than I had thought.
• To my friends  who have been with me from the jump.  I could not have made it through without you.
• To my friends who I just connected with over the past year.  You've made life in North Carolina richer and more fun than I thought possible.
• To everyone who has contributed to my yoga practice ever.
• To all the students I have had the pleasure of teaching.
• To the airplanes and internet providers that keep me close with all of the above.
• To the sun, the moon, the sky, the earth, and the spirit.
• To Lindsey Andrews, whose former FB profile pick I've been looking for an excuse to steal for months.  Words to live by.

11 Things For Which I'm Grateful

1) The grammatical constructions "for which," "to which," and so on.  They make me feel smart.

2) Pitchers and catchers in eight days.

3) Lavoy Allen balling out.  If they really wanna do this thing, the Sixers need toughness and physical play.  Lavoy isn't enough, but he's been a pleasant surprise.  He battles his man on defense on every position, he rebounds, he hustles, and he makes open jumpers.

4) Recently, the Alliance for Student Activites, an organization dedicated to the promotion of the value of student activities for middle school and high school students, launched its "When X=Student Activities" campaign.  This presentation and its accompanying parts are a grassroots effort that will change the public education debate in this country, and I am proud to be a part of this effort.  Please click on the link above and "like" us.

5) The opportunity to work with Bob Tryanski on #4

6) "Postcards from Hell" by The Wood Brothers

7) The staff of the PASC Grove City Gold Workshop

8) David Uzumeri says that Frank Quitely is almost done with his issue of Grant Morrison's Multiversity, which may come out this summer.

9) A semester of leave, which allowed me to submit on Sunday the best article manuscript I have ever written and researched.

10) "This too shall pass, so raise your glass to change and chance.
And freedom is the only law.
Shall we dance?"

11) New opportunities

Where Eagles Dare

Did I title this post just to get Philly peeps and Danzig fans to click on the Facebook link?

Would I do something so underhanded just to drive blog traffic?

Click on the link for MORE PANDERING

But this post is not about the NFL franchise that is most painful to support.

Nor is it about 80s punk-metal goodness.

This post is about my new favorite yoga pose.

Because I've got a fairly high center of gravity and long, spindly legs, yoga poses where I balance on one leg are relatively challenging for me.  The challenge is double for eagle pose, which I fondly remember Rodney Yee once calling "wobbly."  

You don't have to have ever done yoga to appreciate how funky Eagle Pose is.  Just look at that picture.  Legs and arms wrapped around one another and jutting out at all angles, and one is supposed to stay upright on one leg?  One is supposed to hold that for 30 seconds?  Especially when yoga teachers love to save it for the last 20 minutes of class, when my poor, spindly legs are already dying?

What I remembered during today's practice at The World's Greatest Yoga Studio is that when I adopt the attitude I just described, my Eagle Pose is doomed before I move a single muscle.  

And that Eagle Pose is a metaphor for life.

Think about it.  What makes Eagle Pose, or any pose, difficult?  Gravity?  The ground?  Your mat?  Friend, those things are constant.  Rain or shine, good practice or bad, gravity will always pull down and your mat will always be the same color and texture.  Isn't that a little bit like the world?  When I go outside, the world will still be the same as it was yesterday and as it will be tomorrow.  Jerks will still be jerks.  Traffic will still be traffic.

The real difficulties in both Eagle Pose and life are mostly a function of things we do to ourselves.  In Eagle Pose, I always want to make sure that my arms and legs are as twisted as they can be, that I'm as low to the floor as possible, and that my back is straight as can be.  In short, I try to do too much.  And, inevitably, when I'm trying to be Super Yogi, Eagle Pose kicks my ass.

Life?  Dawg, I have a job and am going to have a job well into the future.  I've got money enough to pay the rent, eat, drink, and fly somewhere whenever I please.  So why am I so worried about job security?  Why do I get myself twisted in knots trying to make sure I'm doing everything perfectly?  Why do I have to find the exact right step for my future, and why do I have to find it now?

I don't.

I can relax into the pose and into life.  

When I am not trying to be Super Yogi, Eagle Pose is bliss.  When I relax, I'm not sure that there's a pose that feels better for my hips and my shoulders.  

In life, I will do the best I can do today and trust that all is coming.  That means I work hard each and every day to maximize my chances at the best possible future, but I recognize I can't wave a magic wand and make all of my problems disappear today.  I will do the best I can today, in this moment, and that is always enough.

And if you made it this far, you've earned your punk-metal awesomeness.

Three Songs Worth Your While

I've been wanting to write about music but can't settle on any one topic, so you get more bang for the buck.

1) "Hymn Eola (Southern Nights Remix)" TONSTARTSSBANDHT: I guess I am kind of surprised that I haven't heard more bands doing the Animal Collective thing since Animal Collective got so popular with the last album.  I'm not the hugest Animal Collective fan, but I'll support anyone that wants to go off the psychedelic deep end.  The title of this track is pretty evocative of its sound: pretty, distant, vocals and a relatively sparse background track that centers around a "bass line" that is actually just dudes singing through a very mild autotune effect.  I like to listen to this track and stare out the window thinking abut summer and puppy dogs.

2) "Marshmellow Yellow" Peaking Lights: Did someone say psychedelic?  Look, when you make a psychedelic dub record, I am all in.  Repetition, mood, and esoteric sounds are the name of the game here.  You're going on a weird little trip to a place where the bass line is just a little unsettled, where little snatches of Moogs and guitar peak in and out at unexpected places, and a guygirl croons one word for eight minutes. Don't be scared.  The whole effect is pretty trancelike and fantastic.

3) "Sweet Louise" The Belle Brigade: Something for those of you aren't as down with the far out sounds.  This is about as straight ahead folk rock as you can imagine.  It's also the song you want to fall in love with and to.  Impossibly pretty.

The patron saint of all music posts is Paul Westerberg.

January in Review

Analytics?  Analytics.  This will be a recurring feature in which I hold myself accountable and review how I did the month before, all in an effort to do better in the future

Days Blogged: 31 of 31, for a 100 percent blog rate

Days Missed, January: 0

Days Missed, 2012: 0

Southern Rap Classic Earned?  Oh, indeed.

Most Viewed Post: Her and Me, January 1st

My Favorite Post: How To Change The World, January 28th

Post I Wish I Had To Do Over: The Ice Cube/Yoga post from yesterday.  I'm in the middle of finishing an article submission of my scholarly work, and I was way too fried to take on something that ambitious.

Three Things I Learned

1. Writing about magic does not go over with my initial audience.
2. TWEDP can be a way to highlight the wonderful things that my friends are doing, and those stories seem to connect with readers.
3. Writing every day is something I can manage.

Three Goals for February

1. Clean up one of my yoga pieces and submit to Elephant Journal.
2. Write about the work to which I am contributing for the Alliance for Student Activities.
3. Write every day.

Reader Ratings: Super.  Thanks for your time and your support.

Is Ice Cube Appropriate in Yoga Class?

Here at TWEDP, we strive to educate our readers. In that spirit, we present the following comment that regular reader and yoga teacher extrordinare Andrea M. left on our FB wall:

“Seriously considered it as an option for rock your asana but then retracted last minute for fear of offending the tribe, who might not appreciate its eloquence.”

The “it” in question?

Now, I don’t know what kind of world Andrea lives in, but a world in which one cannot play Ice Cube freely in every situation is one in which the Taliban has already won.

But in MY world, the Taliban has not won!

In this world, Barack Obama jumped out a helicopter from 1,000 feet with no parachute, killed 17 Taliban nutjob guards using the ancient art of shadowboxing, and ripped Osama Bin Laden’s heart from his chest with his bare hands.

Barack Obama did not defend our freedom just to see us give us the very freedom that drove his vengeance.

So, for my country, I give you

A Spirited Argument To Play Ice Cube’s “Today Was a Good Day” in Yoga Class

Lyrics are in italics. Passionate ranting in regular font.  From the start, I should make it clear that I will concentrate on only those lyrics relevant to the practice of yoga.  Lots of rappers say lots of stuff.

Just waking up in the morning gotta thank God

I should be able to stop after this one line. Ice Cube's entire purpose in writing this song was to express gratitude. Here, he expresses gratitude for the new born day with a terse eloquence that the Dali Lama himself can appreciate, if not match. Gratitude may not be one of the four brahmavihāras towards which Master Patanjali points us, but gratitude is an extremely important virtue in yoga. If I'm not mistaken, the current sign in the front of the world's greatest yoga studio ever is one word, and it isn't "Shelly" (yet).

That sign says gratitude.

No barking from the dog, no smog
And momma cooked a breakfast with no hog

So what is Ice Cube grateful for? First, he is grateful for a clean environment. We yogis like the environment. You may have seen us driving our hybrids to yoga and eating expensive but pesticide-free organic food. We also like non violence, not just to fellow people but to animals as well. The masters are pretty clear that one fully devoted to yoga will give up meat entirely. Surely the masters would approve of Osage Jackson's refusal to touch that swine.

I got my grub on, but didn't pig out

Moderation. Ice Cube understands that gluttony disrupts equanimity, so he eats only what he needs to sustain himself.

Called up the homies and I'm askin y'all
Which park, are y'all playin basketball?

Physical activity is one of the eight limbs of yoga. Cube understands that a sharp body leads to a sharp mind, which is necessary for the meditation needed to achieve the highest states.

Plus nobody I know got killed in South Central L.A.
Today was a good day

First and foremost, Cube is grateful for life. Every day that you and your peoples all wake up is a good day. It's like Tibetan Buddhism in a Raiders hat and black Wranglers.

The Lakers beat the Supersonics

So a natural body of water defeated a sound only produced by a gas-guzzling, man-made artifice? Again, yogis love nature.

In conclusion, Ice Cube is a Zen prophet for the new era. TWEDP strongly endorses the playing of "Today Was a Good Day," "Black Korea," and other Cube classics in any and all yoga classes.

Pain and Gratitude

One of the things I have discovered in the first couple weeks of this project is that it has allowed me to start to talk about things I have previously been uncomfortable talking about.

So.

Let's talk about pain.

If you're a reader this close to TWEDP's inception, you probably know me fairly well, so you know 2011 was an incredibly rough year.  My 2011 ended 8 days ago, as did the Really Bad and Unfair Thing (which we'll call REBUT, because it's funny).  Of course, REBUT may be over, but I have a lot of hurt, anger, frustration, helplessness, disbelief, and fear left.

In short, I have a sadness.

Because I tend to compare things maybe a little too much, I've started to think about the last time I had this big a sadness about me nine years ago.  For all the similarities, the two major differences between 2003 and now are most important.

One, the stuff that happened in 2003 was much, much worse.  At the end of the day, if the people you love are still around, you're doing ok.

Two, I am so much better equipped to deal with pain now.  Age and experience, and the growth and perspective and wisdom that come with it, are just about the most valuable things we can have.  If you're significantly younger than I am, know that it really, truly does get better, not just because tough times don't last but because you start to know that they won't last and you better understand how to bide your time and deal until they end.

Yoga also gets a shout out here.  Through yoga, I have learned to accept what I can't change.  When I was 25, the idea of being really, really sad mad me think I was somehow broken and inferior.  So, in addition to being sad, I was frantic all the time about why I was so sad.  As you can imagine, this combination of sad and frantic did not produce optimal results.

Now, though--ok, I've got a sadness, just like I did before.  That sadness is going to be around for awhile.  I will do everything I can to make sure it leaves as quickly as possible, but I'm not going to try to chase it off with a torch and pitchfork.  It'll be here until it goes, and that's ok.  In the meantime, I might as well make friends with the sadness.  We spend a lot of time reading bad Star Wars books and staring out the window at nothing in particular.  That's what the sadness wants to do, and really, it's not that bad.  I like Star Wars.

Once I accepted the sadness, I could put it into some sort of perspective, which makes it pretty easy to remember that's not all I've got.  I've got the best, best, best mom and dad on Earth.  I've finally got a crew of filthy Durhamites who make the South feel like home.  I've got a disturbingly loyal friend that calls me every day for no particular reason and with whom I share at least 50 percent of a brain.  I've got a yoga community with classes that keep me challenged and instructors who seem to sense when I could really use a compliment.  I've got an organization that trusts little ol' me to follow in the footsteps of a legend and teach 100 high school kids how to be better leaders and people.

LOVINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN IS WHAT I GOT.

(Couldn't resist)

Yup, I got a sadness, but I got a lot of other things that make the sadness seem far less daunting and ensure the sadness isn't going to stick around.  In the meantime, sad sucks, but it's not the worst thing on Earth.

Being Chelsea Handler is.

And if it's Saturday, PANDAS

Hog: a Metal Awakening

There's a long version and a short version of this post.

The long version: Done correctly, metal makes all other forms of music look trite and besides the point.  I can't think of another form of music that so effectively summons forces that are clearly beyond human control.  If that's a cliche, it's a cliche because it's 100 percent true.

Case in point: the homeboy Alec Ferrell is in a couple bands.  Last night, I went to see Hog, his metal outfit.  I try to avoid seeing my friends' bands for as long as possible, because nothing in the world is worse than a good friend and a good dude who is really proud of his really mediocre band.

Alec does not have that problem.

My god.

From the minute Hog got on stage, it was pretty clear that I listen to a lot of meaningless music, and that I need to cut that isht out, because I could spend that time listening to Hog.  As near as I can tell, their songwriting process is as follows:

1. Lead guitarist comes up with series of the coldest riffs you will ever here.
2. Lead guitarist tells the rest of Hog to memorize the riffs and play them as hard as you can.
3. The rest of Hog smiles, because, damnit, what's the point of playing if you can't rock as hard as possible?
4. They spend the next FOUR MONTHS perfecting each song into another version of the Ultimate Nature Machine.

Again, great metal is about tapping into some deeply primal stuff that we puny humans usually can't handle.  You may think that your sensitive singer songwriter, your jam band, your emcee, your dance music producer superstar, your 19th Century German composer, or whatever is tapping into something primal, but the best versions of all these archetypes are ultimately bound by human limitations.

Son, Hog is not human.  Hog is about that full-on Viking god isht.  Thunder.  Lightning.  Monsoons.  Asteroids smacking into the Earth, because the gods went all Ragnarok and sometimes a god's gotta break a planet or two to make an omelet.  Your wars?  Friend, your petty human wars are nothing to the gods, so they are nothing to Hog.  Come at Hog with a tank, and they will call down a f#$%ing glacier on your a$$.

The type of commitment needed to do what Hog does is staggering.  Again, FOUR MONTHS of practice before they play a song out, for a bunch of guys with day jobs.  To listen to Alec talk about effects and head units and arpeggios is to realize that you need to get more serious and passionate about your own creative endeavors, because there are dudes out here who do not trifle, not even for a second.

For the listener, all those sacrifices seem worth it.  Hog is powerful and Hog is sexy and your favorite band would never, ever agree to go on stage after Hog.

The short version: if you ever get the chance, go see Hog.  Don't worry if you don't like metal now, because you will like metal after you see them.

Keytar

2011 goes down as the Year I Got Back Into Music.  Thanks to the combination of turntable.fm and the Washed Out album, I have heard more new music in the last six months than at any time...since college?  Ever?  My only worry is that I consume so many songs that none of them register.  Back in the day, I'd live on nothing but bread, water, and a new Pavement album for months.  Now, I get to listen to so many very good things on demand, but am I not giving enough time to the few great songs I hear?

But that, friends, is a  prototypical first world problem.

Besides, I'm not so far gone that I don't recognize a great song when I hear it.  Exhibit A: Teeth's "See Spaces."

Not only is this one of the catchiest songs you can imagine, but it is a great example of how thoroughly Kids These Days have conquered synthesizers.  I came of age in the era where singer/songwriter types were first trying to come to grips with the new musical DNA that hip hop, dance music, and really cool gadgets bequeathed to us.  A lot of mediocre production got very popular with a lot of people who would never tolerate such tripe out of guitar rock.

And, yes, I'm talking about that f###ing Postal Service record.  Shame on you, white people.

Sometime between now and when I last cared, a generation of Kids who were raised on electronic music grew up, so it's part of their DNA.  These Kids get technology and how to use it, get that, in the brave new world, we are all engineers and we can all make amazing, neat sounds with nothing more than a little effort and good knowledge of, I don't know, ProTools or something.  They understand what good production is supposed to sound like in the way that I once understood exactly how a guitar should sound in different situations.

And they're making really awesome music.  Good, creative acts like Atlas Sound use the tech only/always when the track calls for it.  The production fits and enhances the song.  Timbaland at his peak couldn't get a keyboard sound more appropriate for "See Spaces" than Teeth and their producer.