mis-de-MEAN-or HOM-ic-ide:

The Weeknd can provoke some intriguing conversations based on the questions that its singer Abel Testafaye inspires. Why won’t he tour (yet, Coachella is coming)? Why would he ever dare to rock an outdated and terrible box haircut? Is he really a colossal asshole who thinks that his pain matters and others does not, particularly when those others are the women he allegedly fucks? Did he really gang rape some drugged out bitch as is depicted in the song “Initiation?” And plenty of others.

The answers to those are most likely: 1. who knows/he’s trying to cultivate an aura of mystery or he’s scared of America. 2. he’s Canadian - only possible explanation. Then again so is Drake and Drake would never pull that shit. 3. Possibly. 4. Probably not, but did he witness it or similar events, or passively take part in such a thing? More likely than not.

And finally, does all of that really matter if the music is good (which it is)? No…and yes.

To get it out of the way, I think The Weeknd is very good with flashes of greatness. House of Balloons is great all the way through. Thursday is uneven (two good tracks, one meh track, three great tracks in a row and then three more songs worth of meh) but overall interesting. And Echoes of Silence makes for a fascinating listen all the way through, even when what it is depicting is horrific, as in the middle stretch of the record.

“Initiation,” the fifth track on Echoes, is one of the most disturbing songs I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard plenty of horrorcore rap and metal and industrial, including Throbbing Gristle songs that depict home invasion and castration and cannibalism all in one track (“Slug Bait,” if you’re curious). Through vocal manipulation and a NIN-indebted drum track and devilish, stark lyricism, the song depicts the seduction, inebriation (both willing and peer-pressured) and eventual gang-date-rape of one of the countless fallen female angels Testafaye’s lyrically-invented self seems to encounter. (If he really is like this and he has a reputation for it, one would think he’d be bad at luring girls in, but his authenticity or lack thereof is not the issue here.)

You could write a thinkpiece just on that fucking song, particularly if you pieced the stems of the tracks apart and interpreted it on a solely musical level and then added the horror of the lyrics. It is lurid, objectionable, morally irresponsible in many ways, terrifying and utterly brilliant from a musical perspective. It simulates the feeling of being fucked up on booze and drugs and afraid and menaced in a way that is so real the feelings it inspires are palpable and may make you think yourself ill, or dizzy, or shaking mildly from fear.

That song isn’t even the first time The Weeknd has broached the subject of questionably consensual group sex - “Life of the Party” on Thursday is about it too, but not in quite as explicit a manner, and with less question of the girl’s willingness. “Life” seems like the broad in question is fine with what’s happening, relatively at least. “Initiation” makes it seems like the girl either has no clue what’s going on, is too scared to resist or is too much a casualty of a hard-partying lifestyle to give a fuck about what’s happening to her. Or a combination of all three.

I’m only spending so much time on this song since it seems to illustrate a major theme of The Weeknd’s music (duh). There is no bottom to the glass that these songs’ characters keep pouring their booze into, but they keep pouring. Nothing makes them feel better. But they pretend as if it does. If this is anything close to Abel Testafaye’s real life, I feel (somewhat) sorry for the motherfucker, because he’s borderline pathetic in the character he creates. He hides behind his weed smoke and pills and X.O. in tumbler glasses. “Bring your drugs, baby I can bring my pain.” (From “Wicked Games” off House of Balloons.)

As the Weeknd’s albums progress Testafaye grows more and more objectionable, at least in this persona he creates. Men talk about battle cause they weren’t there, and the same is (to some extent) true of sex. Given the degree to which he exaggerates his sexual conquests (almost all of which are drug-induced to some extent) he has to be full of shit to some extent. Then again - does it matter?

The answer is yes…and no. The Weeknd’s music is something that no one else is doing in quite the same way - it’s an amazingly listenable take on R&B that illustrates the life and times of the millennial generation for better and worse, mostly worse. The people of my generation are fucked, if even a significant portion of them are behaving like the characters in these songs, and in my personal experience I’ve seen a fair amount of people who have done exactly that.

(Side note: based on some of the comments on the YouTube video for “Initiation,” it’s possible that the song is not about gang rape per se, but rather a drug overdose leading to a slightly-less-than-consensual coupling. Who knows. I think my original reading is a bit closer to the truth but I’m willing to say I might be wrong.)

In any case…I’ve gotta wrap this shit up. My point is that The Weeknd’s music is largely excellent, and in many ways necessary for the current musical atmosphere. But what is it saying in the long run? Some people might disagree with me, but I believe that all music ought to say something, mean something, and I’m not entirely sure what The Weeknd’s songs truly mean, or if that meaning is something with which I could relate.

But I don’t think they’re meaningless, and they generally sound great. So that’s a start, at least.

inre: the last post i made a fucking while ago, 11/22/63 definitely ranks in the top 10 of Stephen King’s books, and definitively so.

So, 11/22/63 made it into the New York Times 10 best books of the year list. Harold Bloom and at least a dozen other asshole critics and lit snobs are totally boiling over with rage, and I love it.
I haven’t read beyond the first 30 pages of it, cause I haven’t been able to justify buying it. But those pages were pretty excellent.
Then again, a lot of his recent work has been excellent, especially Full Dark, No Stars, which contains some of the most disturbing material he’s written since It and portrays it for deep emotional impact, not shock. He’s always been better than the doubters gave him credit for. Nice to see the credit finally showing up.

People are concentrating on the wrong mixtape rap stars right now, as usual. All the focus is going to A$AP Rocky’s tape, but I honestly think Meek Mill’s Dreamchasers tape and Cold Day in Hell by Freddie Gibbs are way better. Especially the Gibbs tape.

Then again, Gibbs’s tape doesn’t have a knockout like “Tony Story.” Point is theyre both good. And free.

mellowhoward:

if one more person.

tells me.

tells anyone.

out loud.

on facebook.

that twilight is romantic.

i will make my own urine rain from the sky.

because twilight is a comedy.

Drake’s new album is wicked solid. It’s nice to see that the sophomore album curse didn’t affect him - not that I have any particular allegiance to him, but we so often see musicians today become victims to the 15 minute/disposability culture. By all indications, Drake seemed likely to suffer that fate, to languish as a several-hit oddity who also happened to be that twat from degrassi.

I don’t have the wherewithal right now to fully review Take Care, but rest assured it eliminates any hints of “novelty” that may have previously attended his persona and music. Favorite track - “Lord Knows.” Other standouts - “Crew Love,” “Underground Kings,” “Marvin’s Room,” “Hell Ya Fuckin Right,” “Take Care,” “Make Me Proud.”

Anyone who’s a dedicated fan of intense storytelling rap needs to hear “Tony Story” by Meek Mill, like, right now. Shit is intense and ridiculously detailed. It’s on his new Dreamchasers mixtape, which is online and free.

the pilot for this show is wicked good shit. now if ryan murphy can restrain his camp urges for just this one show (please, please, PLEASE GOD DON’T RUIN IT WITH CAMP YOU SCHMUCK, THIS ISN’T GLEE OR FUCKING NIP/TUCK) it could be truly great.

is totally one of the most interesting directors to come to prominence in the past few years.

Drive was unbelievably good. Sparse, technically excellent, extremely stylized but with substance to spare (if you doubt that at first when you see it, just take a closer look at Ryan Gosling’s facial expressions). Well-acted, incredibly and realistically violent but not gratuitous or excessive in its brutality - it’s on the screen for a few moments, it’s as ugly as it needs to be (well maybe a little bit uglier, but whatever) and then it’s gone. Violence should always look like that - the suffering and death depicted must disturb us, not provoke our excitement. Furthermore, it’s just a hell of a movie, as arty as anything in the smaller cinemas, as gloriously pulpy as anything Jim Thompson or James Ellroy ever wrote (but with more subtlety) and brilliantly written and directed. Not a minute of footage or a line of dialogue or a sound effect or note of music is wasted.

Bronson is good too, though I have to say I don’t remember everything about it. Will have to watch again.

Watching Valhalla Rising right now. Also crazy-violent but not gratuitous, beautifully shot, enigmatically written, fascinating. It’s honestly not clear exactly what the fuck the movie is about, except that it’s got Vikings, crusaders (it takes place at the turn of the second millenium A.D.) a silent runaway slave/warrior who has red-tinted hallucinations, anachronistic dialogue (when there is dialogue, which isn’t often) and it totally looks like something Werner Herzog could have done, but a little easier to watch. That’s totally a compliment.