Hello. I don’t know why you subscribed to my newsletter, and I haven’t written here in a bit because I’m overthinking what it is you want to read. Yeah, I’m talking to YOU. The person who opened this email and is reading these words. If you’re doing that right now, thank you. If you’re not, you won’t see this, so fuck you. Nah, just kidding. Thanks also to everyone who subscribes but doesn’t click.
You might have subscribed because you read my 33 ⅓ book on Madvillainy. I might have already told you that I’m writing another book for Bloomsbury’s 33 ⅓ Genre series, on ‘Midwest Emo.’ If you like Madvillainy, you might not want to read about Midwest Emo. But if you liked my book at all, I think you will like this next one, too. I can’t promise you’ll like it, though, because I haven’t started writing it yet.
I have been interviewing people and doing a ton of research, which has led me to the conclusion that self-guided deep dives into specific topics—along with interviews, conversation, self-reflection and writing about those topics—can be literally lifechanging. From researching Madvillainy, I learned the importance of making art first and foremost for yourself. Yeah, I lied. I’m not writing this newsletter for YOU. I’m writing it for ME. DOOM & Madlib both make music for themselves that happens to resonate with a wider audience because they stayed true to their personal tastes. I try to keep that in mind whenever I “accidentally” come across a negative review of my book online, like someone who said they appreciated the information but the “creative writing ruined it.” Writing the Madvillainy book also led me into an obsession about fiction/non-fiction hybrid writing, which I believe is an increasingly relevant form in our confusing age.
Side note: I saw Madlib & Freddie Gibbs at the Greek Theater this past weekend. Maybe I should write a newsletter about that. Maybe I will. Probably not. Maybe this is it? Anyways, it was great. Madlib played “Figaro” and kept chopping up the beat to just play a kick and snare on quarter notes, or dropping it out completely to announce whoever he happened to see in the building. Freddie Gibbs was predictably great. They performed with a live band called El Michels Affair and did a bunch of songs from Piñata, which celebrated its 10th anniversary this year. The day after the show, there were a bunch of social media clips about someone named Clairo singing with Freddie Gibbs. I didn’t know who Clairo was before, but I enjoyed her singing. I felt like the social media clips were detracting from the best parts of the set, though, like Madlib instructing the sound engineer to turn that shit up and the lighting person to turn all the stage lights completely off, so you couldn’t see him. They put a spotlight on Freddie. My Modelo cost $20. Here’s a grainy picture of Madlib and Alchemist hugging.
From researching the Midwest Emo book I’ve had some personal revelations about my hometown of Champaign, Illinois. The reason I wanted to write the book at all was because I noticed there were several emo books coming out but most of them focused on bands from the coasts, and failed to properly document the history and contributions of the Midwest. I knew that people all over the world love bands like Cap’n Jazz and American Football. What I didn’t realize before doing this research was how much of a vibrant musical community Champaign-Urbana had in the early 90s, so much so that artists specifically moved there for that reason. According to one person who responded to a tweet of mine that went mini-viral, Rolling Stone referred to Champaign-Urbana in 1991 as a “fledgling musical Mecca.” This was the era of Hum and Poster Children, and later Braid and American Football (whose members insist that they’re not a “Champaign band,” because “nobody cared about” them at the time they were first active). Many other groups existed in this time and place, and whether they became as well-known as the aforementioned bands or not, their sounds have resonated in new music scenes around the world.
My most recent interview was with Steve Lamos, drummer of American Football. He’s also a professor at the University of Colorado in Boulder. He sent me a pdf of his academic writing on “rhythm and resonance” and “notebooking,” both of which have already been lifechanging. I don’t fully understand everything he writes about, but what I took away from it is: the rhythms of everyday life (i.e., regularly practicing songs in an experimental DIY band with friends in a tiny rental house in Urbana in the late ‘90s), can eventually resonate with others or in other aspects of your own life (i.e., American Football (LP1) circulating through internet culture and resuscitating the band fifteen years later, to continue on for at least another decade). The “notebooking” he talks about is a form of rhythm - he writes about where he is, how he feels, and what he does during each of his performances with American Football. When everything aligns, his mind shuts off and the energy of the music in a room with fans singing along is a much larger resonance than the rhythms he’s playing on the drum set.
It’s worth digging into his work to get a better understanding of what he means by rhythm and resonance, as there’s way more to it than what I just inaccurately summarized. I hope to incorporate some of the ideas into my book but also my life. It’s been a great practice already to write about how you feel, where you are, and what you’re doing even while listening to music. Try it out.
I’m also thinking a lot lately about how the history, geography, and cultural characteristics of a place have an impact on the music. Again, I’m thinking specifically about the Midwest and so-called ‘emo,’ but it applies to anywhere and any type of music. What is it about the Midwest that led to this type of sound? How does the architecture of buildings like the American Football House impact the songs? What is it about basements?
Read my book to find out. I gotta start writing it.
Last book update: this weekend, I’m going to Best Friends Forever Fest in Vegas. It’s basically a ‘Midwest Emo’ festival. I’m also going to be working for the first time with Stereogum on some of their coverage. It should be fun. Maybe I’ll write about that. I really gotta get in the rhythm of sending regular newsletters. I need to stop worrying whether or not they’ll resonate, and just write whatever I feel like sending. Or not? Let me know in the comments. Subscribe rate and review. Thank you, goodnight.