Upon further review
Nov. 10th, 2008 05:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
penfieldOf all the perks that went with being a features editor for my college newspaper, I mostly miss the mail. Yes, sometimes it would be a press release for Canadian folk dancing or a press packet for the latest Pauly Shore movie, but there was always something. In those days, the mid-'90s, when "spam" still referred only to potted meat, we were hungry for any kind of mail that didn't have our parents' names on it.
The best stuff was always the music. This is not to say that it was good music. Much of it was god-awful, self-indulgent and atonal, and would never be reviewed in the Campus Times even if my co-editor or I had been able to convince a writer to listen to it. Usually these unwanted orphan discs ended up adorning my ceiling shiny-side-down.
But some of it was so tragically awful, or so deliberately awful, that it somehow became -- well, still not good, exactly, and not necessarily artistic, but at least entertainingly provocative.
One of these CDs is still in my music collection, but it had been at least five years since I dusted it off: Amy Arena's self titled debut album.
Judging by her official Web site, Amy Arena is a self-styled model/actress/dancer/blogger/voiceover specialist and animal lover, but her debut work pretty clearly defines her as a starving performance artist.
You'll see what I mean. I was surprised to learn that a video for the opening track, Excuse Me, is actually available on YouTube:
[This video might be marginally unsafe for work, but the truth is that it's probably not safe for anywhere.]
The stridently confrontational attitude on "Excuse Me" purposefully establishes the tone for the entire opus. The central conceit of the song, and indeed the album, is her unflinching, uncompromising honesty. And yet, its refrain is itself disingenuous, since she neither makes nor seeks an excuse for her relentless hostility.
Track 2. Addicted to Dirt
Search, if you want, for a figurative meaning in the song or its title. But the whole point of the song seems to be that she really likes dirt. Literally. If you really want to hear it, maybe you could theorize that it's an ode to nature and earthiness, but then you might miss all the jarringly dissonant chords. As I listen to this song now, it occurs to me that I may never have gotten all the way through it before.
3. Cheeseburger
Turning 360 degrees from the literal to the metaphorical, Arena fetishizes the image of a big, steaming cheeseburger to the point of chanting "I wanna eat it all/I wanna put the whole thing in my mouth." Yum. But by the time she describes projectile-vomiting the cheeseburger on to a corporate male's Brooks Brother's suit, it's unclear whether she's an animal-rights activist satirizing the American meat-eating culture or whether she's a righteous feminist railing against the pervasive socio-political Beefocracy, as it were.
4. Make Love to Myself
This is about pretty much what you expect it to be about. Think the Divinyls' "I Touch Myself," but without the coyness, sensuality or semblance of melody. Nevertheless, this song makes perhaps the most profound observation on the album, asserting that it is possible for one to love another person only after first loving oneself. Repeatedly.
5. I Will Always Love You
Here we begin to get the impression that some guy, at some point, really messed with this girl. Set to a cold, techno-industrial beat, Arena calmly narrates the story of a golddigger who waits patiently for her husband to die, so that she may claim his estate. She couches the fable as a morality play; "it is about the 5,000 years of oppression you have given me and my sisters," she states, matter-of-factly. But I admit I'm not sure I understand the connection.
6. Shit
Is it a meditation on the various forms of fecal matter? Is it a semiotic exploration of what the word "shit" signifies? Is it a vulgar plea for attention? It's all that -- and more. For me, the highlight is when she describes her own digestive process. It's like science!
7. Perverts and 8. Why
These two tracks are brief, spoken-word interludes on sexuality and religion, respectively. I don't know if you'd call it poetry or what, but it's not really intelligent enough to be insightful. I kinda like these tracks anyway, if only because they do not include any people trying to play instruments.
9. New Religion
The one legitimately scary song on the album, Arena screams "I'm gonna start a new religion!" -- off-key -- as she notes the shortcomings of the popular organized faiths. Not exactly blazing new territory, but she does successfully evoke the sounds of Hell.
10. And Then
Maybe this is just my prurient male sensibilities talking, but I actually enjoy Arena's first-person account of her sexual history. It is perhaps the only time that she lets a hint of vulnerability pass through the bravado. So maybe it's a little wrong that I can't help laughing at this absurd juxtaposition:
And then
I was now
a woman
a person
a human being
equal
to any man
or God
And then
I was so horny
I could have done it with a dog
or a cat
or a horse.
But I didn't!
11. Get to Know Me
Ha! As if, after hearing about her love of dirt, castration fantasies and sexual predilections, we still needed or wanted to know anything else. I can safely state that no one wants to hear about her various physical flaws and attributes. And so the counter-intuition works on two different levels: you end up getting to know Arena despite not wanting to, and afterwards you wish you hadn't.
12. Proud to Be a Woman
Common decency prevents me from quoting much of the lyrics because they are so intensely profane. It's too bad, because they are also hilarious. And I don't mean for that to seem dismissive or chauvinist, given the song's title. The song is actually a sharp-tongued criticism of traditional pop-culture femininity, instead favoring a more natural, primal sort of feminism. "I am proud to be a woman in America," she says. The patriotism is largely incidental, except insofar as she would be unable to say most of these things in any other country.
I'm not going to say that "Amy Arena" is as prized a Features Editor acquisition as, say, CAKE's "Fashion Nugget" or even the soundtrack to City of Angels. But in some ways, it is a cherished part of my college experience -- hanging around my freshman dorm room with JSR and JRM, exchanging astonished looks, embarassing questions and hysterical laughter.
Thanks for the memories, Amy. Sorry it took so long for me to get around to the review.
The best stuff was always the music. This is not to say that it was good music. Much of it was god-awful, self-indulgent and atonal, and would never be reviewed in the Campus Times even if my co-editor or I had been able to convince a writer to listen to it. Usually these unwanted orphan discs ended up adorning my ceiling shiny-side-down.
But some of it was so tragically awful, or so deliberately awful, that it somehow became -- well, still not good, exactly, and not necessarily artistic, but at least entertainingly provocative.
One of these CDs is still in my music collection, but it had been at least five years since I dusted it off: Amy Arena's self titled debut album.
Judging by her official Web site, Amy Arena is a self-styled model/actress/dancer/blogger/voiceover specialist and animal lover, but her debut work pretty clearly defines her as a starving performance artist.
You'll see what I mean. I was surprised to learn that a video for the opening track, Excuse Me, is actually available on YouTube:
[This video might be marginally unsafe for work, but the truth is that it's probably not safe for anywhere.]
The stridently confrontational attitude on "Excuse Me" purposefully establishes the tone for the entire opus. The central conceit of the song, and indeed the album, is her unflinching, uncompromising honesty. And yet, its refrain is itself disingenuous, since she neither makes nor seeks an excuse for her relentless hostility.
Track 2. Addicted to Dirt
Search, if you want, for a figurative meaning in the song or its title. But the whole point of the song seems to be that she really likes dirt. Literally. If you really want to hear it, maybe you could theorize that it's an ode to nature and earthiness, but then you might miss all the jarringly dissonant chords. As I listen to this song now, it occurs to me that I may never have gotten all the way through it before.
3. Cheeseburger
Turning 360 degrees from the literal to the metaphorical, Arena fetishizes the image of a big, steaming cheeseburger to the point of chanting "I wanna eat it all/I wanna put the whole thing in my mouth." Yum. But by the time she describes projectile-vomiting the cheeseburger on to a corporate male's Brooks Brother's suit, it's unclear whether she's an animal-rights activist satirizing the American meat-eating culture or whether she's a righteous feminist railing against the pervasive socio-political Beefocracy, as it were.
4. Make Love to Myself
This is about pretty much what you expect it to be about. Think the Divinyls' "I Touch Myself," but without the coyness, sensuality or semblance of melody. Nevertheless, this song makes perhaps the most profound observation on the album, asserting that it is possible for one to love another person only after first loving oneself. Repeatedly.
5. I Will Always Love You
Here we begin to get the impression that some guy, at some point, really messed with this girl. Set to a cold, techno-industrial beat, Arena calmly narrates the story of a golddigger who waits patiently for her husband to die, so that she may claim his estate. She couches the fable as a morality play; "it is about the 5,000 years of oppression you have given me and my sisters," she states, matter-of-factly. But I admit I'm not sure I understand the connection.
6. Shit
Is it a meditation on the various forms of fecal matter? Is it a semiotic exploration of what the word "shit" signifies? Is it a vulgar plea for attention? It's all that -- and more. For me, the highlight is when she describes her own digestive process. It's like science!
7. Perverts and 8. Why
These two tracks are brief, spoken-word interludes on sexuality and religion, respectively. I don't know if you'd call it poetry or what, but it's not really intelligent enough to be insightful. I kinda like these tracks anyway, if only because they do not include any people trying to play instruments.
9. New Religion
The one legitimately scary song on the album, Arena screams "I'm gonna start a new religion!" -- off-key -- as she notes the shortcomings of the popular organized faiths. Not exactly blazing new territory, but she does successfully evoke the sounds of Hell.
10. And Then
Maybe this is just my prurient male sensibilities talking, but I actually enjoy Arena's first-person account of her sexual history. It is perhaps the only time that she lets a hint of vulnerability pass through the bravado. So maybe it's a little wrong that I can't help laughing at this absurd juxtaposition:
And then
I was now
a woman
a person
a human being
equal
to any man
or God
And then
I was so horny
I could have done it with a dog
or a cat
or a horse.
But I didn't!
11. Get to Know Me
Ha! As if, after hearing about her love of dirt, castration fantasies and sexual predilections, we still needed or wanted to know anything else. I can safely state that no one wants to hear about her various physical flaws and attributes. And so the counter-intuition works on two different levels: you end up getting to know Arena despite not wanting to, and afterwards you wish you hadn't.
12. Proud to Be a Woman
Common decency prevents me from quoting much of the lyrics because they are so intensely profane. It's too bad, because they are also hilarious. And I don't mean for that to seem dismissive or chauvinist, given the song's title. The song is actually a sharp-tongued criticism of traditional pop-culture femininity, instead favoring a more natural, primal sort of feminism. "I am proud to be a woman in America," she says. The patriotism is largely incidental, except insofar as she would be unable to say most of these things in any other country.
I'm not going to say that "Amy Arena" is as prized a Features Editor acquisition as, say, CAKE's "Fashion Nugget" or even the soundtrack to City of Angels. But in some ways, it is a cherished part of my college experience -- hanging around my freshman dorm room with JSR and JRM, exchanging astonished looks, embarassing questions and hysterical laughter.
Thanks for the memories, Amy. Sorry it took so long for me to get around to the review.
