REM - Collapse Into Now

REM had a resurgence of sorts with 2008 album Accelerate, rediscovering the passion and spark that made them a household name. Their new fire delivers diminished returns on Collapse Into Now. Accelerate’s jangly guitars and driving drums are still at the backbone of the best numbers, like spectacular opener Discoverer and short sharp pop song That Someone Is You. Unfortunately, and unusually for REM, the softer, quieter numbers don’t work nearly as well. Stipe feels like he’s injected more of himself into these songs, but the resulting lack of cohesion costs the album it’s consistency. It’s still a good listen, but REM are capable of so much more.

So this is an entry for the Power of Tension blogfest. It’s hosted by Cally Jackson and Rachel Morgan, who are two writing bloggers who I am a fan of.

This was co-opted from a piece I was going to write for a Fiction Friday prompt called “Everything is not as it seems”. I was about 600 words into it when I noticed the 300 word limit, so I’ve cut down as much as possible while still (hopefully) retaining the core elements.

Something doesn’t feel right.

Something doesn’t feel right. The screeching guitar is piercing my brain, and I can’t seem to block it out. “Please, no, please don’t do it!” moans the lead singer, but I ignore him, and lurch away from the band.

Something doesn’t feel right. The room is full, each body absolutely motionless, watching the band. The darkness obscures most of their faces, but as I bump into one, I spot a glimpse. He ignores me, focussed entirely on the band, a weird grin stretched across his face. A hunter stalking a prey that doesn’t know it’s already dead.

Something doesn’t feel right. I grab another person, but am once again ignored, in favour of the band. “Please, no, please don’t do it!” I look over at the lead singer, and for the first time register the fear in his eyes. He’s looking at the crowd, making the last plea of a man who knows he is not long for this world.

Something isn’t right, and that’s when I notice what it is. The band has been playing the same song since I arrived 25 minutes ago. The drummer has now collapsed forward over his kit, and the bass player has similarly fallen. The guitarist carries on by desperate rote motion, and the lead singer spots me, and folds his begging into the song, “Please! Help me! Help us! Please!”. I look at the crowd surrounding me, and all I can see is salivating eyes, the licking of lips, fingers flexing, necks stretching.

The guitarist passes out, and falls to the floor, leaving the exhausted, sweaty singer standing alone. He manages to squeak a lone “Please?”. The lights go out, and the room becomes a blurred cacophony of bodies in motion. I hear growling, howling and wailing, before something hits me in the head and I don’t hear any more.

–

I’m not overly happy with it, but it’ll do for the first piece of creative writing I’ve published in a long time.

Having a word limit did help me in one respect - I was struggling with whether or not to have anything after the character woke up. The word limit meant there was no time for that.

So I’ve been thinking a bit about how, as tech people, we explain online concepts to non-tech people. Analogies are usually the easiest method, but I think too often, we fall into the trap of using a non-tech analogy which doesn’t really match the tech concept, and I think we might be doing ourselves a disservice in the process.

Example the first:

Overnight a link began to be shared around Twitter. It showed the URL of Andrew Bolt’s page on the Today show website as having “racistidiot” or similar at the end. A few people lamented the end of the career of a web content editor, until it was discovered that you could place any text you liked at the end of the URL, and it would still present the page.

This morning a tweet by Shaun Davies (@prawn_gravies) who states in his bio that he is the executive producer of news at ninemsn (and I was perfectly happy to take him at his word)  reported the following:

“Hi Sophie, that URL was a hoax perpetrated by someone on Twitter. No-one at ninemsn was responsible.”

This tweet as directed to @sophbenj, who retweeted it, and as a follower, I saw it. I took a little umbridge at the classification as a Twitter hoax, so I replied:

“not a Twitter hoax per se. Site allows anything to be typed at the end of the URL and itll work. Site fault != hoax”

To my surprise, I received a reply from Shaun:

“The hoax originated through one Twitter user. It also spread through Twitter. We’re fixing up the site fault now.”

I replied to this with:

“fair enough,but calling it a twitter hoax makes it sounds like someone on twitter was completely responsible, when in fact…”
“your website was just as responsible.”

Shaun replied with:

“That’s like saying the person who put up a poster in a public place was as responsible as the person who drew a moustache on it.”

Now, it’s a pretty safe bet that Shaun didn’t spend a lot of time on this analogy. He was replying to a lot of tweets, as well as managing a news website, fixing up some problems with the website, and probably reporting to management on the whole thing. Safe to say he probably had a lot on his plate. I went to reply on how that analogy was incorrect, but I found myself stuck - what was the correct non-tech analogy? I thought about it for a few minutes, but couldn’t come up with one, so I went away, and came back, but still nothing. My eventual reply was:

“thats only the same if there was a way to secure a poster from defacing, and through a fault in your poster, it wasnt secured”

Lame, right? I just couldn’t think of a non-tech analogy, which got me thinking - maybe there just isn’t one? Maybe this is an online concept that can’t be explained in non-technical terms. Which lead me to thinking about my second example.

Example the second:

Twitter. Just Twitter. As my workplace takes its first steps into social media, I’m finding myself explaining to people who’ve never seen it, never experienced it, and who are not necessarily computer people to begin with. My first point of reference when trying to explain Twitter is usually “Facebook, but only status messages.” The other day I tried to use this explanation, but the person said he didn’t use Facebook either. And that stumped me. Outside of Facebook statuses, I had no point of reference for what Twitter is, how it works, and how every day people are defining their own Twitter experience. And when it comes to a non-tech analogy? Forget about it.

“It’s like a giant hall full of people from all over the world who are talking all at once, and you can choose who you listen to, but even then you can still hear everyone talking, and sometimes you’ll have a separate conversation with a one or a couple of other people, and everyone else can hear it if they listen to you normally, or even if they don’t but they seek out your conversation, and sometimes someone will say something which you’ll like, so you’ll repeat it to the people who are listening to you, and a bunch of people are just shouting slogans, trying to sell you stuff, and some of them will reply when you ask them questions, but most of them won’t.”

And I haven’t even got started on private accounts, DMs, fake accounts, spam or certified accounts - I’ve barely scratched the surface.

So I think from now on I’m going to start my Twitter explanation with “It’s not like anything else.” Because it’s not some imitation of an existing service, even though maybe that’s how it started out. I think equating it with existing concepts, tools and services might be selling it short in terms of user interactions - it really is a service which allows you to completely define your experience. Want to tweet your every thought or action? You can. Want to be a bit of a lurker who posts only occasionally? You can. Want to have an account purely so you can yell at @TransLinkSEQ about your bus being late? You can do that too.

How about you - how do you explain tech concepts to non-tech people? Got a favourite analogy?

P.S. Special thanks to Shaun Davies for being someone in a position of power who actually replies to tweets, and doesn’t get all huffy when some random (me) starts griping about semantics and his website. Shaun hopefully you don’t mind that I’ve repeated your tweets here, but please let me know if it’s a problem.

Ben Ottewell - Shapes and Shadows

Of the three Gomez frontmen, Ben Ottewell would be the one most likely to inspire excitement with the announcement of a solo album. Unfortunately, the end result is not really solo (he works with a backing band) and is solid rather than exciting. At no stage does Ottewell draw on the raspy power of his soulful voice, or the rough coarseness of his guitar-playing the way he does with the best Gomez tracks. The title track, All Brand New and Blackbird are enjoyable, charming folk, but too many of the songs feel slight and inconsequential. Lucky for us, there’s a new Gomez album around the corner.

Trail Of Dead’s newest album was recorded in just 10 days, but instead of sounding fresh and spontaneous, it feels rushed and incomplete. Pure Radio Cosplay and Summer Of All Dead Souls are the usual ToD thrust-and-cut, but from there, the album meanders. The band, always at their best with long, epic maelstroms, instead turn in a series of short, half-formed songs, including an inexplicable re-hash of Cosplay. The album goes out on a high with The Fairlight Pendant, and five-part medley Strange News From Another Planet, but it never recovers from its weak middle. Setting challenges is good; making complete albums is better.

Cover of Titus Andronicus' The Monitor

I’m not a huge fan of punk, but if all punk were as brilliantly hyper-literate as Titus Andronicus, I would be. It’s unlikely that the band would class themselves as punk, but it’s the closest description for a musical style that flails, carouses, attacks, and mocks in equal measure. Patrick Stickles’s lyrics are brilliant, and he saves his greatest barbs for himself, while behind him, the band keep things moving at a breakneck pace. The album is both epic and tightly contained, lengthy without ever becoming monotonous, and perfectly aimed at its targets without any hope of prompting change. It’s powerful, awe-inspiring, and easily the best album of 2010.

So, to recap, in order, my favourite albums of 2010 were:

#7 Honey Month: Foliage EP
#6 John Steel Singers: Tangalooma
#5 Hans Zimmer: Inception Soundtrack
#4 The National: High Violet
#3 Freelance Whales: Weathervanes
#2 Rocketsmiths: The Bones
#1 Titus Andronicus: The Monitor

And, just for funsies, 7 albums which were almost there but didn’t quite make the cut (in no particular order):

Continue reading 100 albums, 100 words #7 - Titus Andronicus: The Monitor (2010 #1)

Cover of Rocketsmiths' The Bones

Rocketsmiths followed up their superb Parts and Pieces EP with debut album The Bones, trimming some of the jangly saloon elements in favour of distinctive dancey-yet-aggressive pop. Ianboy Apouli’s guitar flourishes are superb, while frontman Dom Miller’s cocky swagger shines even when he’s being self-deprecating, such as on the brilliant Doctor. The back half isn’t as strong as the front, but by the time moody epic Bones closes out the album, you’ll be ready to go back and start again instantly. Sadly, the band called it a day in 2011, possibly prompted by the undeservedly indifferent reaction the album received, and they will be sorely missed.

Cover of Freelance Whales' Weathervanes

Freelance Whales’ debut is a charming snowflake of an album, intricate and delicate. The multi-instrumentalist quintet dance in circles around frontman Judah Dadone, who emotes dreamy lyrics with more than a hint of twee. It would be overbearing, if it wasn’t so beautiful and heartwrenching - when Dadone sings about a ghost he can never catch, we’re right there with him. Highlight tracks Hannah, Broken Horse and song of the year Generator ^ Second Floor will burn themselves into the memory. Dark in nature and light in atmosphere is a difficult balance, but Freelance Whales make it look second nature.

High Violet represents another trip into the dark psyche of The National front man Matt Berninger, not unlike all four of their previous albums. Where it excels beyond its siblings is its accessibility and consistency - every track on the album plays its part in bringing together a cohesive whole. Musically, Bryan Devendorf’s drum work is, as always, a master class in how percussion can support a portentous sound without being dragged into it, and the Berninger’s complex lyrics run rings around the conscious mind. Sometimes it’s hard to know what he means, but never how he feels.

Hans Zimmer’s Inception score represents his third collaboration with writer-director Christopher Nolan, and although it doesn’t hit as many buttons as The Dark Knight score, it still has all the swooping atmospherics and pulsing percussion we’ve come to expect from one of Hollywood’s best composers. Highlights come quick and fast; the tribal beats of Mombassa, the accelerating tension of Dream Is Collapsing, the epic maelstrom of Waiting For A Train (complete with Edith Piaf sample, straight from the film). There’s not a dull moment on this roller coaster ride of a score, and it easily qualifies as one of the best albums of 2010.