This evening is the final night of Hannukah.
So, in the words of Adam Sandler, "If you're the only kid in town without a Christmas tree, here's [two lists] of people who are Jewish just like you and me."
"Creating People On Whom Nothing is Lost" - An educator and writer in Colorado offers insight and perspective on education, parenting, politics, pop culture, and contemporary American life. Disclaimer - The views expressed on this site are my own and do not represent the views of my employer.
This evening is the final night of Hannukah.
So, in the words of Adam Sandler, "If you're the only kid in town without a Christmas tree, here's [two lists] of people who are Jewish just like you and me."
Artists are finding it increasingly difficult to afford living and studio spaces in an increasingly large number of metro areas. A recent piece in the New York Times spotlighted the decreasing number of artists living and working in the city.
So, how about living for free in gorgeous penthouse apartment in the thriving art scene of the RiNo (River North) neighborhood in Denver? That's the opportunity with the "Residency at FLORA" program, recently spotlighted in Denver's alt-weekly Westword: Artists Can Live in a RiNo Penthouse Through New Residency
What more can be said about the impact and influence of Jane Austen?
In the world of English literature, the woman from Hampshire, England, who wrote just six novels in her brief and largely uneventful life at the dawn of the nineteenth century, must be considered one of the most significant writers of her time. However, as I noted in a post yesterday about the incredible cottage industry of Austen retellings, adaptations, derivatives, and cultural events, she is also one of the most significant writers of our time as well.
Her novels have had an outsize influence in the centuries since her death. Not only are the books themselves beloved — as sharply observed portraits of British society, revolutionary narrative projects and deliciously satisfying romances — but the stories she created have so permeated culture that people around the world care deeply about Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, even if they’ve never actually read “Pride and Prejudice.”I have a few interesting personal connections to Jane. For one, one of my children is named after Austen, and I grew up in Alton, Illinois. What I didn't know until just a few years ago is that the Jane Austen House, which she wrote most of her novels in Alton, England. And, of course, as a long-time high school English teacher, Austen's Pride & Prejudice was a staple in my AP English curriculum. I used to introduce the 19th century novel of manners as one of the original romantic comedies.
Almost from its inception, Punk was declared dead and over.
The basic idea behind that early mortality and the surprising staying power post-mortem seems to mostly to do with the belief within the early scenes -- New York's Lower East Side and London -- that once punk was on the radar of the mainstream, it was no longer punk. Pivotal music writer Lester Bang felt this way, as did the pioneering punk band Crass which delivered the song "Punk is Dead" in 1978. Mark Perry, founder of the zine Sniffin Glue, argued punk died the minute the Clash signed to a major record deal.
While it all started for me with the Ramones, Clash and Sex Pistols in the early 1980s, past the date punk was declared dead, punk actually gained steam and became the counterculture that exists to this day with the second wave punk bands and scenes sprouting up across the United States and the world. From New York to Washington, DC to Los Angeles to the Bay Area, the spirit of punk -- grounded in the DIY attitude that "I can do that, too ... even better," -- invigorated the culture of punk, and it moved beyond anything the small crew of independent musicians and writers may have imagined in the mid-70s.
Punk is an interesting phenomenon -- for something seemingly grounded in simplicity, it's actually quite a complex history discussion. And stories of punk history and scenes and culture and artists and the "punk ethos" are endlessly fascinating to me. With that in mind, I truly enjoyed this recent piece in Ultimate Guitar magazine that points to the pivotal role "two bands, two songwriters, and two labels" played in maintaining punk for what it was, is, and will become. Punk Survived Growing Pains in The '80s: But These Two Bands Are (Likely) Responsible for Saving the Genre | Ultimate Guitar
The rise and relatively quick near fall of punk is well documented in the genre's history. While early punk scenes in the UK, NYC, and LA flourished, they just as soon began to flicker, for a variety of reasons. In the UK, early leaders of the movement who had mainstream success, like The Clash and Sex Pistols, eventually fell apart, while across the Atlantic in NYC, a good chunk of the scene embraced the post-punk movement. Things went a little differently in LA, however, as I would argue the punk scene took a bigger hit, or had a higher fall from grace, than it did in either London or New York.George Clooney is just sixty-four years old, but he has the old school Hollywood charm that has been the essence of the movie star myth since the days of Jimmy Stewart, Carey Grant, and others. And that "myth" has always been the fundamental romanticization of the lives of the glitterati. Clooney's most recent film - Jay Kelly, streaming now on Netflix - is a deceptively simple yet touchingly poignant look into that world.
The movie will, no doubt, garner numerous accolades and award nominations for Clooney, whose title character is an aging movie star just like himself facing the end of a career and a self-accounting for what sacrifices got him to where he is, and for Adam Sandler in a thoughtful and vulnerable role of the "manager" to a Hollywood star. Writer and director Noah Baumbach will almost certainly collect nominations and award for Best Original Screenplay.
I just want it noted for the record that on September 23, 2023, when Deion Sander's -- or "Coach Prime's" new CU Buffs football team was rolling to a great start, and then Bo Nix and the Oregon Duck's came to town and absolutely pasted the Colorado team 42-6 with Nix on the Duck's first drive drilling a 40+-yard touchdown pass to the corner of the end zone, I said, "The Denver Broncos should draft Bo Nix next year. I want Bo!"
And now, in one of the wonkiest years in recent NFL history, the Denver Broncos with their sophomore year QB are sitting atop the AFC West Conference with a tie-breaker lead over the New England Patriots for the number one seed while the dynastic Kansas City Chiefs are idling in third place with a sub-500 record at 6-7. And my bold prediction is the Broncos are going to the Super Bowl. And the ideal NFC opponent is another team dear to my heart, a team that has been waiting quite a while to get back on top -- The Chicago Bears.
I know, I know. Two teams with second-year quarterbacks and winning records but a a lot of close games, along with several holes in their offense and defense, amidst a league with a lot of teams like the Patriots and the Packers and the Lions and the Chargers ready to step up and take the crown. But a Denver-Chicago Super Bowl would be a heckuva game.
My favorite Christmas song is a rather unorthodox one in that it's not one of the traditional songs like "White Christmas" or "Carol of the Bells." It is, instead, an alternative song from a favorite indie rock band -- "2000 Miles" from Chrissie Hynde & The Pretenders.
I've always been a nonfiction geek, and the type of research-based commercial nonfiction that took off in the early 2000s with books like Malcolm Gladwell's The Tipping Point: How Little Things can Make a Big Difference has always been like catnip to me. Right at the turn of the century, it seemed like there was a hunger for "ideas" and accessible writing about the latest developments in science, psychology, economics, and other traditionally "dry" reading. Writers like Gladwell, Michael Lewis, Daniel Pink, and more began churning out book length explorations of the kind of stories that used to make great airplane reading in magazines like Wired, Fast Company, Forbes, The Atlantic and countless which took off during the 90s, a true heyday of magazine writing.
So, I shared my blog post about "Bandcamp not Spotify" with some friends who are in high finance and venture capital. And one of them really didn't like it. He is convinced that streaming is much better for all involved parties, especially him as a consumer who gets a nearly endless supply of practically free music on Spotify and AppleMusic. He is basically missing my point that if, as a fan, you really like a singer or band's music, you should support them more authentically by purchasing a digital product or even the physical form, for which the artist receives a much better payout.
Being a finance guy, and also someone under the age of forty, he can't understand why I can't agree that it's much better for the artist to have endless streaming fees for perpetuity, as opposed to the consumer buying the LP one time for $15.99 or the song (via the iTunes/Bandcamp model) for $0.99. He gets into all sort of finance theory terms talking about projection and .... blah, blah, blah. And I am unable to convince him that a band would rather have tens of thousands of fans buy a product and give them a large sum up front than to depend on millions of fans occasionally streaming the song for $0.0028 a listen over several years.
By the way, the artists and musicians I've heard from agree with my take, even as they acknowledge the reality of streaming and concede its benefits -- specifically the extended reach and exposure that wasn't possible before streaming. That said, we all know that while a million streams sounds impressive, that only earns the artist about $3000, and that would be divided among all band members. But, if a million or tens of millions of streams were instead the sale of ten to fifty thousand albums or CDs or digital downloads at $15, the artist would be earning hundreds of thousands of dollars.
The point is that the finance guys are not creators or producers. They don't make anything, so they can't really appreciate the value of the labor. And they like getting stuff cheap. And my original point is that if you really like an artist, you can support them by buying the product for real dollars, rather than just renting it for microscopic portions of a penny at a time.
Tip your servers, and pay your artists.
The other day I noted that Gen Z's use of the word "bet" is the equivalent of Gen X using "word." When I said that, a colleague asked what the Millennial word was, and I glibly and somewhat sarcastically scoffed that Millennials had no word -- they just copied Gen X. That said, I think "word" remained the word for a while
With that in mind, I've noticed a strange uptick in news, or perhaps better said "commentary" on Generation X lately. Since 2025 began, there's been a steady stream of Gen X stories, features, lists, and more with an ironically heavy bit of nostalgia. The most recent one -- which I passed on to my Millennial colleague and a fellow Gen Xer who, because I work in a library and featured Coupland's pivotal novel Generation X: Tales from an Accelerated Culture, rolled her eyes and said she's never read and doesn't need a book to tell her who she is -- is an extensive and engaging piece from Gen X culture writer Amanda Fortini in the New York Times asking: "Is Generation X the Greatest Generation?"
There’s a collective fascination with Generation X, for both good and ill, as told by numerous think pieces and memes that have begun proliferating like gremlins in recent years. Most of these memes are humblebrags created by Gen X-ers themselves, applauding our toughness and resilience, honed by benign parental neglect (“The official sports drink when I was a kid,” reads a caption over a child drinking from a garden hose), or celebrating our own coolness, an aura cultivated by pretending not to care (“Them: The world is falling apart! Gen X kids: Have you ever had a bologna potato chip sandwich?”). Many express nostalgia for the lost relics of a simpler time, like mixtapes, malls, daytime soap operas, the mentholated burn of Noxzema or the ritual Friday night rental of Blockbuster videos.As readers of this blog may know, I am obviously Generation X, and I am a Gen X writer, having published my Master's thesis on the novels of Douglas Coupland, and putting together a steady stream of Gen X commentary, including a popular piece on "Gen X Parenting."
If you really like a band, and you appreciate the music - the art - you should consider purchasing a digital download of the music on Bandcamp, rather than endlessly streaming it for free on Spotify. Bandcamp supports artists and enables them to earn money from the appreciation of their creativity, as opposed to Spotify and other streaming services which simply exploit the artists and the system, earning billions in fees while paying next-to-nothing for the product.
Earlier this year, Swedish musician Bjork called out Spotify and streaming services, calling them "probably the worst thing that has happened to musicians." And as a music fan, an artist, a writer, and a consumer, I couldn't agree more. Snoop Dogg made a similar claim two summers ago during a panel at the Milken Institute. The music and culture icon who changed the game of hip-hop in the 90s went off script, and said "Can someone explain to me how you can have a billion streams and not get a million dollars? Cause that shit don't make sense to me."
Snoop and Bjork are, of course, speaking from a time when all musicians could sell an actual product like an album, a cassette, or a CD, and earn a nice living from the deal, even when record companies and producers took a significant cut. The creation of MP3 files and streaming -- beginning with Napster -- changed everything, and not for the better as far as the artist is concerned. However, Napster and streaming didn't ruin the possibility of earning a decent living as a musician at that point, and the visionary artist and businessman Steve Jobs had much to do with that.
iTunes was a brilliant innovation and a real game-changer, enabling music fans to purchase single songs as digital downloads for $.99. That was actually a win-win for the artist and the consumer. For, as anyone over the age of thirty recalls, there were times you liked a song or two from a new release, but didn't want the entire album/CD/cassette for $10-$15. And, a perk of the iTunes was that those of us who had significant CD collections could upload all our albums to the iTunes account and carry our music everywhere on our iPods and later iPhones.
However, the predatory Swedish businessman and "technologist" Daniel Ek basically went and ruined everything, enriching himself to the tune of billions in the process. It's a bit of a complicated story to understand how Ek moved Spotify into such a dominant position, manipulating record companies and the biggest artists into signing lopsided deals for music acquisition in exchange for "access and exposure." And that deal is absurdly slanted to enable the company to earn billions in membership fees while paying microscopic "revenue sharing" with artists of basically $0.0032 per stream. If it were an iTunes model, a million "streams" or downloads would make nice profits for the band, too.
And, of course, as a Gen Xer, I won't claim that in the 70s and 80s I didn't make bootleg copies of cassettes or record songs off the radio. But for all that "theft," we still purchased a helluva lot of music, and honestly the 80s and 90s were the absolute heyday for bands making money on their music, even moderately successful ones. Granted, on the current streaming platforms, the biggest artists are still making huge cash. And I will concede, as will most musicians, that streaming has benefits of extending reach, garnering many listeners who would never know of the band or the song without streaming. But, as a music writer and researcher, I know of far too many excellent musicians who stream a ton of music, but still work and struggle to pay the bills, which wouldn't have been a problem with comparable sales in the pre-streaming era.
So, that is why I don't have a Spotify or AppleMusic account, and that's why I do have a Bandcamp account. While I haven't fully committed to the return to vinyl, I definitely plan to. And I have started purchasing digital downloads of some new favorites on Bandcamp. I will also acknowledge that I do "stream music," having had a Pandora account for years (I am, after all, in my 50s). But I see Pandora more like listening to the radio, which I also do extensively, and unlike radio, Pandora actually pays fees to the artists. Also, I have often pulled up music on YouTube, but I make an effort to listen to the ads so the artists still earn a little something from my appreciation of their art.
Now, I am sure that this post has plenty of inconsistences and even potential hypocrisies which I haven't fully thought through. But I stand by my position that Spotify and its streaming model has not been good for musicians. And, honestly, I think that the heavyweight artists could make a significant impact on the industry if they collectively moved to demand at least the option of buying digital downloads that would be shared with the artist.
By the way, this situation and point of view came on my radar just recently, when Westword, Denver's alt-weekly published a piece about Alternative Streaming Platforms for Denver Artists. And here are a couple other links to aspects of this issue.
Pandora's New Deal: Different Pay, Different Play : NPR
AM and FM Radio Do Not Pay Royalties to Artists -- That's Un-American
Earlier this year, I published a piece on PopMatters about 10 Brilliant Music Books on the Art & Industry. Originally planned for last winter as a sort of 2024 gift guide of the best new releases for the music lover in your life, the piece morphed a bit into just a list of great books about music.
For many music fans, the next best thing to the actual songs is the story “behind the music”. For book lovers who are also music lovers, a well-written and often unexpected music book is a treat that feeds both passions. Music books come in various formats, including band memoirs, music criticism, and pop culture philosophizing. From Lester Bangs’ collection of reviews in Psychotic Reactions & Carburetor Dung to Henry Rollins’ incredible journal-turned-memoir Get in the Van: On the Road with Black Flag, the music book is a valuable part of the art and the industry, providing fans with insight and context on the artists and the music they love.There's no hype about duct-taped bananas coming out of south Florida this year, but it's almost Art Basel Miami time, so there will undoubtedly be something stirring in the art world.
Arguably the biggest and most significant art festival in the United States each year, Art Basel Miami arrives this weekend, December 5-7, and while most of us art geeks will not be attending and rubbing shoulders with the world's elite artists, gallerists, dealers, patrons, and fashionistas, we can still live vicariously through the coming tidal wave of press and social media coverage.
The New York Times has a primer for those interested in attending:
The Miami Beach edition of Art Basel is unique in that it takes place on a single floor, rather than in a multistory location as the other Basel fairs in Hong Kong, Paris and Basel, Switzerland do.And, of course, many other arts and culture writers will offer their insights and advice as well. Art Basel Miami is sort of the cornerstone of Miami Art Week, and there will also be plenty of coverage for art events flanking the festival, such as this piece from Casey Brennan for Grazia Magazine: "Everything to Know About Miami Art Week 2025"
Every December, Miami Beach becomes a stage where the worlds of art and fashion intersect under sunlight and spotlights. This year, Art Basel Miami Beach returns the first week of December, marking its twenty-third edition and a clear step forward for the fair’s evolution.