Part I: Pre-Date Tunes

There’s a lot to be said for mental preparation. Rather than just wandering aimlessly from one situation in life to the next, feel free to take a few moments to focus on the matter at hand. So you’ve got a date tonight…presumably you’ll be taking a shower, choosing an outfit, combing your hair, all that good stuff, and you’ll need some music to listen to in the process. The right selection here can put you in the ideal state of mind for romantic success. The wrong one can set the stage for disaster. Avoid anything too deep or dark, anything that reminds you of ex-girlfriends or personal failure of any kind. Keep it light, upbeat, but not over the top. This is not the time for the “Rocky” theme or AC/DC’s “Hell’s Bells.”  Satanic imagery is not good for the pre-date psyche. We’re looking for something that reinforces the required self-image: suave, debonair, laid back but totally in charge. That’s you. Here are five musical suggestions (in reverse order) that can help take you there:

5. The Eagles – Key Songs: “Peaceful, Easy Feeling”; “Take it Easy.”

Music snobs may look down on the Eagles, but these guys can serve you well in small doses. Sure you’re a bit nervous for the big date, we can almost see the wheels turning upstairs as you play out potential scenarios in the shower. Perfectly natural, but, hey, “Take It Easy.” Let Obi-Wan Don Henley remind you: Don’t let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy. Close your eyes, picture yourself standing on a corner inWinslow,Arizona, and there’s that girl/guy, my lord, in a flatbed Ford, slowin’ down to take a look at you. That’s how hot you are. Feel the power. “Peaceful Easy Feeling” is packed with relevant insight here as well. We all found out a long time ago what a wo/man can do to your soul. Ah, but s/he can’t take you anyway you don’t already know how to go. Just remember, there’s no way your date can let you down- because you’re already standing on the ground.

4. Bob Marley – Key Song: “Three Little Birds.”

Three little birds upon your doorstep. What could possibly be wrong with that? Answer: Nothing. Don’t worry about a thing, cause every little thing…is gonna be alright. Nobody conjures up the pure joy of stress-free living like Bob. One caveat: Avoid the temptation to spark up a joint. Otherwise you may spend the majority of your night smiling and nodding while having no idea what your date is talking about. Or self-consciously wondering about that offhand comment s/he made about your shirt. Does s/he not like your shirt? What did s/he really mean by that? Lay off the dope and just soak up those positive Marley vibrations. Now go out on your date and sing sweet songs of melodies pure and true.

3. Steely Dan – Key Song: “BabylonSisters.”

In college we referred to this as the EDT’s. Easy Drinking Tunes. It works equally well in the pre-dating context. Just pop in “Decade of Steely Dan,” let it play through, and you’ll be in good hands. Not only does the music strike up an ideal pre-date mental image of hedonistic good times, but, in “Babylon Sisters,” you’re provided with a ready-made visualization (particularly for those on the left coast): “Drive west on Sunset to the sea. Turn that jungle music down. Just until we’re out of town. This is no one night stand, it’s a real occasion. Close your eyes and you’ll be there. It’s everything they say. The end of a perfect day. Distant lights from across the bay.” And if there’s an age gap in play, who cares if your date don’t know Aretha Franklin? Just have her take you along when she slides on down.

2. Sinatra – Key Songs: “My Way”; “Summer Wind.”

Now we’re venturing into the rarefied air of pre-date listening. Not only does Sinatra’s music take you where you need to be, but the man himself personifies what we’re going for. Much as we like the Eagles, you’re not gonna wanna head out for your date picturing yourself as a latter-day Don Henley. Marley was great, but unless you’re a dread-locked chronic pot smoker fromJamaicait may be hard to work the Marley persona into your repertoire. Steely Dan? Cool enough, but a tad dorky. Francis Albert Sinatra. Now that’s someone you can channel as you head off into the night. All swagger and attitude. Warmth and romance without an ounce of sentimentality. Feeling a little pre-date anxiety? Fix yourself a nice martini and let it drift away with the warm Summer Wind. Now go out and do it your way.

1. Joao Gilberto & Stan Getz – Key Song: “Girl from Ipanema.”

Stan Getz may not be as hip as Sinatra, but he’s plenty hip himself. More than close enough to suit our purposes here. Start off with “Girl From Ipanema” and let it go from there. Soak it in. The Brazilian bossa nova. A sublime dose of Latin romance. The musical personification of cool. This music is so cool that anyone who listens to it automatically becomes cool. It’s impossible not to. Picture yourself negotiating your date like a Getz sax solo: effortless, mysterious, self-assured, playful, timelessly sexy.

Where it all began- the original Rao's in Harlem.

If you like a certain kind of food- namely old school, east coast style Italian- Rao’s at Caesar’s Palace gets our nod as the best restaurant in Las Vegas. Rao’s has it all- atmosphere, service, and most of all, exquisite food (more on that in a minute). Above and beyond all that, Rao’s has history. It has mystique.

The Rao’s story begins not in Vegas but in the Harlem region of New York’s upper Manhattan. And it begins not in this century, not in the previous century even, but in the century before that. It was in 1896 to be precise that Italian immigrant Charles Rao purchased a small saloon at the corner of 114^th Street and Pleasant Avenue and named it Rao’s. With his death in 1909 his sons Louis and Vincent, who were born and raised in the house next door to the saloon, took over Rao’s for themselves.

Slowly, as the decades passed, Rao’s developed such a following in the local neighborhood that a small but growing cadre of patrons maintained standing reservations on certain days. Considering that Rao’s only has ten tables in the entire restaurant, that there is only one seating per evening, and that many existing reservations remain from decades before, it is no surprise that it has become virtually impossible for outsiders to land a reservation. The legend of Rao’s exploded on the New York scene once and for all when New York Times food critic Mimi Sheraton published an ecstatic review in 1977. No longer was Rao’s a hidden gem for those in the know. Now, all of a sudden, it was one of the most sought after- and elusive- dining destinations in all of New York.

In this regard, food lovers everywhere rejoiced with the opening of a second, much larger Rao’s at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas. The design and atmosphere of the Vegas Rao’s certainly can’t match the history and soul of the New York location but it has one key advantage- you can get a table here. And most importantly of all, the food, by all accounts, is exactly the same as the food served at the original location. Which is to say that the food at Vegas Rao’s is delectable. Mouth watering. Old school Italian dishes with a distinctive twist that you won’t soon forget.

Whether you’re visiting Rao’s for a romantic dinner with your significant other or in a large group, family-style, with shared dishes, is the way to go. Start things off with the wonderful Antipasto Della Casa (for two- priced at $29), featuring prosciutto di parma, mild sopresata, roasted bell peppers, mixed olives, buffalo mozzarella, sliced tomatoes, grana padano and gorgonzola cheese over dressed arugula. Swing into the main course with a pasta side dish topped with Rao’s unmistakable signature marinara sauce ($23). Made with san marzano tomatoes, this sauce is truly bursting with flavor, the type of flavor where you can literally taste the quality and freshness of the ingredients. It would be criminal not to pair your pasta with a side of Rao’s traditional meatballs in that same wonderful sauce ($16 for two- they’re not small). If you wanna work some veggies into the mix, check out the Peas & Prosciutto, an ideal complimentary dish ($15).

Also distinguishing itself in the pasta section of the menu is the Orecchiette with Broccoli Rappe and Sausage ($26). If you’re wondering what orecchiette is, it’s a somewhat rare and (if you ask me) vastly underrated circular pasta. The name derives from the word orecchio, Italian for “ear,” because orecchiette bears a passing resemblance to a small ear. Either way, it works beautifully in this dish alongside sweet Italian sausage and broccoli rabe, all sautéed in a delightfully flavored extra virgin olive oil. This dish exemplifies what lifts Rao’s above the masses of ho-hum Italian eateries: interesting variations on traditional dishes and perfectly constructed recipes executed with the finest ingredients.

Moving on to the entrees, two of the more memorable offerings include Uncle Vincent’s Famous Lemon Chicken ($26) and the Steak Pizzzaiola ($48). The first of these consists of quartered charcoal broiled chicken served in an excellent lemon sauce. As for the Steak Pizzaiola, it’s a pan-seared 17 oz. prime shell steak sautéed and topped with bell peppers, button mushrooms, onions, and those same san marzano tomatoes that the marinara sauce is based on. Vegas is full of steak houses that talk a good game, but few, if any, serve a steak as perfectly charred and flavorful as this one. The novelty of the pizzaiola style makes for an excellent pairing with the meat itself. More traditional steak lovers who view this pairing with initial skepticism may find themselves pleasantly surprised if they approach with an open mind.

In these cases, and across the menu, Rao’s serves up consistently memorable dishes that are beautifully flavored but always subtle, never overdone. The atmosphere is about as charming as it gets in a casino location. Indeed, the hardwood floors and moderately sized separate rooms seem far removed from the rows of slot machines and blackjack tables that sit outside and around the corner. The jukebox- a legendary component of the New York Rao’s- sets the tone here as well, with plenty of Sinatra, Johnny Mathis and the like wafting through the air as you finish up another great meal with an after-dinner drink (grappa anyone?) and a healthy slice of creamy tiramisu.

Fassbender should've got an Oscar nod.

Brandon (Michael Fassbender) would seem to have it all- good looks, a sweet bachelor pad in Manhattan, and a solid career. But you can tell from the first frame that this ain’t about wish-fulfillment. On the contrary, this is a near-great movie for the same reason that Entourage and Californication are a joke. Admittedly, if those shows could be accused of peddling unrealistic fantasies of the excesses of the successful single guy, Shame might well be accused of moving a tad too far in the opposite direction. The film is downright obstinate in pursuing its dark vision, excessively so in the case of one final twist that detracts from an otherwise brilliant and disturbing study of modern sex addiction.

Even with that flaw, this remains a powerful movie experience that more often than not bears a shocking ring of truth. Steve McQueen’s direction is stylish without being overstated, establishing and maintaining a consistently eerie tone. His vision of New York, with its darkened streets, gray skies, and sleek interiors is matched every step of the way by a powerhouse performance from Fassbender, who fornicates his way through the city like an L-train moving from chilliness to the far reaches of despair. Fassbender and co-star Carey Mulligan, as his emotional ragdoll of a sister, reverberate off of each other perfectly, expressing a common sense of personal horror from opposite ends of the psychological spectrum.

The film hints at some sort of childhood trauma at the root of Brandon’s affliction, but such an explanation hardly seems necessary in a hyper-sexualized society where getting it on is increasingly detached, or even at odds with, the pursuit of deeper human connection. It is the exploration of that cultural fact, much more so than Brandon’s personal background, that gives the film its real power and meaning.

While it might be tempting at first to compare Shame to a film like  Leaving Las Vegas , with Fassbender using sex as opposed to drink as his chosen method of self-destruction, a more apt tonal comparison might be Carnal Knowledge, with its explosive depiction of the disaffected modern male chasing skirt right off the deep end. Indeed, if Entourage and Californication are like the pop culture equivalent of Charlie Sheen- highly entertaining but ultimately whacked to the point of being unrecognizable- then Shame is like a humorless version of 70’s Jack Nicholson, slowly unraveling, losing his shit, backing off into dark corners that scare us precisely because we know they’re real.

-CM

Plastic Beach may not be as emotionally resonant as LCD Soundsystem’s The Sound of Silver and it may not be quite as musically ground-breaking as Radiohead’s Kid A, but it’s in the ballpark, and that’s saying something. Like those two modern masterpieces, Plastic Beach, for all of its identifiable influences, sounds like the future. Damon Albarn, the musical maestro behind Gorillaz, creates complex but sneaky-catchy electronic soundscapes and balances out his technology-heavy approach by bringing in some of the world’s most distinctive human voices. Snoop Dogg kicks it off on “Welcome to the World of the Plastic Beach” and is followed by a parade of world class vocalists like Mos Def, Bashy and Kano, De La Soul, Gruff Rhys, Lou Reed, Bobby Womack and the Japanese singer Yukimi Nagano. On “Superfast Jellyfish” De La Soul and Gruff Rhys offer a hilariously funky take on fast-food consumption. Nagano stands out on a pair of great duets with Albarn including the dreamy “To Binge,” which sounds like space age bachelor pad music for Leonard Cohen fans. Former Clash guitarist Mick Jones makes a notable appearance as well, laying down a stellar intro to “Plastic Beach.” And then there’s Albarn himself taking the reins on some of the album’s best tracks, including “Rhinestone Eyes.” Through it all, the album takes an uncompromising look at everything from environmental degradation to sweatshop workers to the impact of technology on human relationships. On “Broken” Albarn sings, “It’s by the light/Of the plasma springs/ We keep switched on/All through the night while we sleep…And the space has been broken/Broken/ Our love/ Broken.” But there’s a notable strain of optimism as well. For all the technological prowess of Albarn’s sound, there’s always a human voice straining to break through, none more human than Bobby Womack, alone on “Cloud of Unknowing,” when he sings, “Every satellite up here is watching/But I was here from the very start/Trying to find a way to your heart.” Turns out the future isn’t about jet-powered backpacks after all. It’s about trying to get back to where we started.

-Chris Marakovitz

MARAKOVITZ.COM

Of course rock is full of historical precedents when it comes to approaching the sophomore album after a smashing debut. The first option is to confirm your artistic genius and staying power by creating a second album as good or better than the first (Led Zeppelin, Joy Division, Beastie Boys). Much less desirable is the possibility of whiffing entirely and fading rapidly into obscurity (Violent Femmes). There are those who have pretty much driven themselves crazy trying to find their way after a classic debut (Axl Rose) and those who have continued to produce good work while carefully pulling back from the precipice of mainstream rock stardom (Pearl Jam). And then there’s the Liz Phair approach. After provoking an avalanche of critical acclaim with her debut opus Exile in Guyville in 1993 (Pitchfork ranks it is as the fifth best album of the decade), Phair said of her 1994 follow-up Whip-Smart, “I made sure it wasn’t shitty, but I didn’t worry about whether it was, like, A+.”

This seems, in a nutshell, to be the approach that MGMT has applied to their own follow-up effort. There’s nothing here as boldly original and exciting as Oracular Spectacular’s “Time to Pretend,” “Kids” or even “Electric Feel.” Rather, Congratulations is at times appealingly understated and at other times maybe a bit underwhelming. Still, there’s nothing here that changes the overall impression of MGMT as one of the better young bands of their generation. It’s just that the pleasures of Congratulations are a little less ecstatic, a little more subtle, and, yes, a little less frequent than those of Oracular Spectacular. Cases in point: “It’s Working” and “Someone’s Missing,” neither of which grabs you from the beginning but both of which build up to some unexpected and sneaky-good flourishes.

In other cases MGMT seem to be quoting even more directly from their influences than they did on album one, admittedly a troubling trend. On “Brian Eno” they come right out and name a song after one of their musical idols. Several other songs on the album might well have been named after artists who obviously inspired them as well. “Lady Dada’s Nightmare” could have been called “Floydian Instrumental Interlude.” At times MGMT even acknowledge their influences with winking lyrical references. “Flash Delirium” is pure Bowie and when Andrew VanWyngarden sings: “sue the spiders,” a nod to Ziggy and the Spiders from Mars, it seems more likely that the spiders would sue MGMT for robbing their musical schtick. Still, if “Flash Delirium” is a Bowie rip off, it’s a damn good one, as in, like, it’s almost as good as Bowie. That’s more than enough to make it the best song on the album.

The 12 minute plus “Siberian Breaks,” on the other hand, is a bit on the meandering side, and probably not quite as epic as the band might have intended. It’s a twisting, turning ride leaning at one point in the direction of seventies folk-rock with a shout-out to the Mamas and Papas followed by a Leonard Cohen tribute so dead-on as to border on imitation (“Oh Marianne pass the joint,” sings VanWyngarden). It’s also here where the band begins to deal with the ramifications of their overnight success: “Wide open arms can feel so cold/And you can sit beside me and tell me what it’s worth/But I hope I die before I get sold.” But it’s with the mellow groove of the title track that closes the album where VanWyngarden really lays it out: “It’s hardly sink or swim/When all is well if the ticket sells/Out with a whimper/It’s not a blaze of glory/You look down from your temple/And people endeavor to make it a story.” So maybe MGMT’s sophomore effort isn’t a blaze of glory, but nobody’s suggesting they vacate the temple just yet.

Worth noting here, perhaps, is the fact that everyone on this list is white. Five of the seven are based in the south. Of course this doesn’t mean that all 105 who stiff-armed Newton were southern whites, but our small sample does hint at a trend in that direction.

(If there is an African-American voter out there who left Cam off the ballot, please, by all means declare yourself.)

Meantime, while we don’t have the data to construct a racial breakdown of the entire 105 as compared to the overall population of Heisman voters, we can get some small semblance of such a comparison in regards to ballot content itself. Whether the ballots of the anti-Cam crew have any more “integrity” than the average ballot is a matter of debate. If the public six are any indication, however, their ballots were a tad whiter.

Looking at the overall Heisman voting population we see that Newton came in first followed by Andrew Luck of Stanford and LaMichael James of Oregon. In other words, one white guy on the typical Heisman ballot. Looking at the ballots of five anti-Cam voters (Michael Bradley, to my knowledge, did not disclose who he voted for), we see that all five had two white players in their top three and four of the five put a white player at the top of their ballot.

The only writer in the group to give his vote to an African-American player was Frenette, who voted for Oklahoma State wide receiver Justin Blackmon. He followed up with Moore second and Luck third. Tucker and Molinaro both had Luck first and Moore second or third. Tucker had LaMichael James third (the only James vote on any of the declared anti-Cam ballots) while Molinaro had Auburn defensive lineman Nick Fairley second. Bianchi seemed inclined to associate “integrity” with whiteness as well, placing Moore at the top of his ballot.

And then there was Whitley who, apparently confusing the Heisman Trophy with the Boy Scout of the Year Award, had Stanford’s Owen Marecic (white) number one, followed by Colorado offensive lineman Nate Solder (white) and Texas’ Sam Acho (African-American). Again, in keeping with the trend, white guy number one and two white guys overall.

Does any of this mean that there was an element of racial bias in the voting of the 105? That the word “integrity” has been applied as a euphemism, either conscious or subconscious, for the word “white?”

That where there’s smoke there must be fire?

Honestly?

I don’t know.

While I have snippets of information that imply very indirectly that this may be the case, I don’t have nearly enough to know the truth.

Speculation is well and good, but I don’t make final judgements without all the facts.

And that’s precisely why, if I had the chance, I’d vote Cam Newton for Heisman.

The recent release of “The Promise: The Darkness of Edge of Town Story” confirms something that I have suspected for some time now. Whether we’re talking about the outtakes from the “Darkness” sessions, the remastered original songs, Thom Zimny’s outstanding documentary on the making of the album, or the live dvd’s of the tour that followed, “The Promise” paints a picture of Bruce Springsteen not only as a great American artist, but, quite possibly, THE great American artist.

Think about it.

He has lived the quintessential American life. Born into poverty on the east coast, he poured every ounce of youthful energy he had into his art, his music, maintaining his integrity along the way and still managing, despite himself, to get filthy rich. He has written about the Jersey shore, serenaded New York city, walked the “Streets of Philadelphia,” taken us with him on stark rides through Youngstown, Ohio and the state of “Nebraska,” summoned the “Ghost of Tom Joad,” climbed the fence at Elvis’ house in Memphis, stopped in a little café down San Diego way, sung about immigrants traveling “Across the Border,” wound up with a big ‘ole house in Beverly Hills and then gone full circle, returning home as a whopping success and settling back on the farm in New Jersey where he now resides. It is the living embodiment of the mythical hero’s journey. Along the way, Springsteen has covered every nook and cranny of this grand country, first as vagabond youth, a troubadour with a guitar on his back, and, later, as a superstar, a rich man touring in style. Is there any American artist who has played so many legendary shows in such diverse venues, ranging from small bars like the Student Prince in Asbury Park and Max’s Kansas City in New York to MadisonSquareGarden, every other basketball arena in the country, and on to the even larger shows at places like FenwayPark and Giants Stadium? He has proven the diversity of his talent, playing riveting Dylanesque solo acoustic shows as well as rocking stadiums of 60,000 with the E Street Band behind him, electrifying crowds and eliciting guttural screams from women that would make Elvis himself blush. He has navigated various levels of popularity, beginning with critical acclaim, a cult-following, reaching the front pages of “Time” and “Newsweek,” achieving mass popularity and fame in the 80’s, and now settling into a role as an esteemed elder statesmen of rock n roll, his audience more limited but completely devoted.

Thematically, Springsteen has covered every important point along the American terrain as well. His music offers a perfect balance between a uniquely American romanticism, the American capacity to dream, and a confrontation with the flipside of the American dream, the experience of being disappointed, of having those youthful dreams go unrealized. He often attributes this dichotomy to the opposing personalities of his parents: his father, a bitterly disappointed man, and his mother, the more lighthearted and joyous soul. Two of his greatest albums, “Born to Run” and “Darkness on the Edge of Town,” epitomize this sense of balance. The first of these albums, written when Springsteen was 24 years old, offers perhaps the greatest ever musical expression of youthful American yearning, exhilarating, inspiring, and full of expectations so grand that they border on the hallucinatory. What can be more American than this? On “Darkness,” meanwhile, Springsteen realized that he had to answer for the fact that dreams don’t always come true. It was on songs like “Racing in the Street” that he first began to explore the feelings of disappointment and economic marginalization that he knew so well from his own childhood. There is still hope on this album, but the point is clearly made that you have to fight for what you want in this life. You have to work for it. As he sang in “The Promised Land:” “There’s a dark cloud rising from the desert floor/ I packed my bags and I’m heading straight into the storm/ Gonna be a twister that blows everything down/ That ain’t got the faith to stand its ground.” Springsteen has sung his about this faith repeatedly in his music, and he has demonstrated it in his own life.

Later, on “The River,” a double album, Springsteen continued to weave songs of longing and disappointment (the title song, “Point Blank,” “Stolen Car”) with lighthearted party songs (“Out in the Streets,” “Sherry Darling”). Dad and mom both represented. On “Hungry Heart,” meanwhile, his first radio hit of any significance, Springsteen pioneered a technique that would become a hallmark of his songwriting: a story of loneliness and alienation wrapped within an upbeat, catchy musical package. This technique was perfected on “Born in the USA,” an album that stands the test of time remarkably well. At the time it was difficult to gauge the depth and quality of so many of these songs for the simple reason that they were all so popular. Most notably on the title song, but also on cuts like “I’m Going Down,” “Downbound Train,” “Cover Me,” and “Dancing in the Dark,” chart-topping melodies provided clever disguises for the darker themes pulsing through the lyrics. Those who have heard more recent Springsteen albums, such as “Magic,” may note this songwriting technique on display once again.

In crowning Springsteen as the greatest American artist I am also taking into account the popularity of his work and its penetration of the collective psyche. Surely there are many great American artists, ranging from Emily Dickinson, William Faulkner, and Ernest Hemingway to Jackson Pollack and Mark Rothko. But how many Americans can quote a line from any of these authors or have seen the work of these painters? On the other hand, just mention the lines, “The screen door slams, Mary dress waves,” and see how many people smile and nod in recognition. I will also submit that the best of Springsteen’s work holds up in artistic quality to the names mentioned above. After all, is there really a greater American poem than “Thunder Road?”

You can hide ‘neath your covers

And study your pain

Make crosses from your lovers

Throw roses in the rain

Waste your summer praying in vain

For a savior to rise from these streets

Well I’m no hero

That’s understood

All the redemption I can offer, girl

Is beneath this dirty hood

With a chance to make it good somehow

Hey what else can we do now

Except roll down the window

And let the wind blow back your hair

Well the night’s busting open

These two lanes will take us anywhere…

I could go on, both in this song and in songs like “Born to Run” among many others, but you get the idea. The point is that no artist has lived a more quintessentially heroic American life. And no artist has expressed the ups and downs, the ins and outs, of the American experience as fully and completely as Bruce Springsteen. Who among us has not dreamed big dreams in youth and then struggled with the disappointment and disillusionment of not having things work out precisely as planned? Who has not wrestled with these situations, trying to figure out how and when to let go of youthful dreams, or how and when to hold onto them? Who among us has not enjoyed and celebrated the camaraderie of great friendships and relationships at certain times and then wrestled with feelings of isolation and alienation at other times? All of these points along the spectrum of American experience find powerful and meaningful expression in Springsteen’s music.

When I was much younger, for example, I never really understood or appreciated a song like “Dancing in the Dark.” The concept didn’t resonate with me. At that stage in my life I understood “Born to Run” and “Prove it All Night” and “The Promised Land.” But “Dancing in the Dark?” What’s that all about? Now, in my late 30’s, just a few years older than Springsteen was when he wrote the song, it occurs to me that this song offers the perfect image for a generation of people that have stayed single far later in life than any generation in the history of the human race. Sure you have your freedom, but what does it really matter without some kind of meaningful connection to a lover, to friends, to some sense of community? I have a bootleg of a Springsteen concert from the “Tunnel of Love” tour where, before launching into a haunting acoustic rendition of “Born to Run,” he talks about trying to live up to the promise of that song, of the fact that he had “put all those people in all those cars” and now he needed to figure out a place for them all to go. That’s the beauty of Bruce Springsteen right there, a willingness not only to dream big, but to face the ups and downs and consequences of that journey, that great American ride, for better or worse.

This being the case, those born into positions of wealth and privilege, particularly when they constitute a small minority, are faced with a central dilemma. Outnumbered as they are, how can they prevent a revolt from the vast majorities who, if organized and properly motivated, could easily overthrow the privileged few and demand, if not the heads of their former oppressors, at the very least a bigger slice of the pie? In medieval times such a revolt might be a violent one while in the America of today it might take place at the ballot box. Common sense tells us that people with wealth and power are extremely unlikely to give it up easily. In fact, they’ve been known to become quite paranoid about maintaining it and more than a bit zealous about extending it. As such, history is full of examples of how those in power have managed the task of subduing the masses and upholding the cherished status quo.

The first and most obvious of these options is through totalitarian brutality. North Korea’s Kim Jong Il offers a modern example where a dictator and his small cadre live like rock stars while millions starve. Historically speaking, though, strong-arm tactics are problematic. Totalitarian rule sets up a catch-22. The more you crackdown on suspected opposition the more you raise the ire of the masses whose popular support you cannot survive without. The Somoza family monopolized the Nicaraguan economy for much of the 20^th century (with American support) but eventually succumbed to popular revolt. Initially the Sandinista opposition had been fairly weak, but, in a classic instance of the paranoia of power, the Somozas overreacted to the threat. The more they lashed out, the more traction the Sandinistas gained with the public, until eventually the numbers got the best of them and the regime collapsed.

A much more effective alternative to the totalitarian approach lies in the realm of ideas. If those in power can manage to sell an idea that justifies their own status in the eyes of the people they can rest easy without lifting a finger. This is the Holy Grail for any ruling minority. Perhaps the greatest historical example would be the divine right of kings. In a medieval world where the belief in a judgmental God was absolute, those in power sold the idea that a king was born into power because God wanted him to rule. It followed from this that if you were born into peasantry the Holy Father was equally set on you living a life of squalor. Under this view of the world, to stage a revolt against those in power would be to defy God himself and, in turn, to relegate yourself to eternal damnation. Thus, while the king and his twelve buddies were gorging themselves and fornicating like, well, kings, outside the castle gates and across the mote a mass population that could easily have put an end to the absurd inequality opted to ride it out as best they could and look forward to an improved afterlife.

Jackpot.

Of course it would be inaccurate to compare modern America to Somoza’s Nicaragua or medieval Europe. There are, however, some basic parallels in the broadest sense. Relatively speaking, we live in a country where the vast majority of wealth lies in the hands of a select few. Moreover, this is a new development. Income inequality had been steadily decreasing in America over the course of the entire 20th century before  doing an about face right about 1980. With the onset of the conservative revolution, the distance between rich and poor has suddenly and conspicuosly increased over the last three decades. The richest one percent now holds more total wealth than the bottom 90%, a level of inequality not seen in America since 1928- not coincidentally the year prior to the onset of the Great Depression.

Aside from any moral ramifications that one might wish to assign, history shows that such rampant inequality is bad for the economy as a whole. Alan Greenspan- no socialist sympathizer- has called this rise in inequality a “very disturbing trend” and told Congress that this is “not the type of thing that a democratic society- a capitalist democratic society- can really accept without addressing.” And yet, for the most part, we do accept it.

And so here we have the classic dilemma outlined at the onset. How is it that a small minority can sustain a pattern of increasing wealth and power when it not only violates the interests of the vast majority, but of the most basic principles of sound economics?

The answer is that, right around the late 70’s, the privileged few, perhaps frustrated by their declining power over the course the century, finally stumbled upon an idea they could sell to the masses to justify not only the maintenance but the rapid extension of their own wealth.

Small government.

There it was. The Holy Grail. A modern incarnation of the divine right of kings. This was the idea that government power in any form- but most importantly in the realm of taxation, social programs and corporate regulation-  constituted an affront to personal liberty and to democratic freedom itself. Once this idea gained traction with the public the door was opened for a political revolution that would re-establish the power and wealth of a select few. With this development the entire mechanism (good government), indeed the entire thought process (the belief in such), through which the working and middle classes had promoted their own interests throughout the century was voluntarily, even enthusiastically, handed over to those who had no concern for their welfare whatsoever.

Once again: Jackpot.

As such, it is certainly correct to apply the word “revolution” to the rise of small government conservatism and Ronald Reagan in 1980. It might be even more accurate, though, to refer to this as a “reverse revolution.” Whereas the concept of revolution throughout history is normally associated with an oppressed majority rising up against a controlling minority, in conservative America it’s more a case of a controlling minority re-establishing a self-serving if not oppressive influence over a larger majority.

It’s popular today on the right to use the term “class warfare” to obliterate any argument on behalf of pro-majority economic policies. This, of course, is a wonderful propaganda term itself, applying a Marxist cloak to perfectly reasonable attempts at public policy debate. In fact, the first salvo in the modern American class war was fired from above, with Reagan small government conservatism taking out pillars of pro-middle class economic policy like Apache helicopters blasting retreating Iraqis on the Highway of Death. It’s been a rather one-sided affair. Suck on that Karl Marx.

We should note, of course, that there are real differences between the divine right of kings and small government philosophy as tools of control. We can pretty much characterize the divine right of kings as a total fabrication whereas the concern for small government does have a legitimate basis in reality. In fact it is this historical underpinning that has made it such a saleable concept. The 20^th century is full of examples of centralized governments and totalitarian regimes that not only failed miserably but were responsible for untold human suffering. All Americans are right to be wary of the overextension of government power in any real way that threatens to lead us down such a path.

Such wariness seems more than a bit misplaced, however, when applied to things like progressive taxation and corporate regulation. In fact, taxing wealthy people to pay for new roads (or wars) is a pretty legitimate exercise of government power. So too is preventing corporations from polluting our air and water. Or poisoning the food we eat. And countless other things that are strictly a matter of common sense for any sane society. And yet the American people are sold a small government philosophy so absolute and relentless as to find fault with even these rather obvious and necessary uses of government power.

The key word here is “sold.” Because, if you look closely- and here’s where some of the ulterior manipulations of small government rhetoric can be exposed- it is demonstrably true that conservative politicians and policy makers don’t really believe in small government as an absolute guiding principle. There are many areas in which conservative policies are happy to apply government power in a pretty zealous manner. On the one hand conservatives argue that the government is perpetually inefficient and incompetent. On the other hand, they vigorously support the death penalty, accepting the premise that government can fairly and accurately determine cases where a human life can be taken. Is there a bigger exercise of government power than that? One could argue that our penal system itself, holding a higher percentage of our citizens in jail than any country in the world, constitutes a pretty heavy application of government power. Conservatives also believe that government should make laws outlawing abortion and gay marriage. Where’s the freedom and liberty in that? Remember the Terry Schiavo case? A special session of Congress called just so conservative lawmakers could exercise control over the personal decision of a single American family. Now that’s some big-ass government.

And then there’s the military. Is there really a bigger bureaucratic labyrinth in the American government than the military? Usually conservatives tell us that the government is completely inept and virtually useless in carrying out major initiatives. And yet they support the massive logistical outlay of multiple foreign wars. And then they tell us how wonderful and miraculous our military performance is. However true this assessment may be, it does seem a little inconsistent, no?

Which one is it? Government is inefficient and useless or government (the military being, in essence, the government) is totally awesome?

And here we see that small government rhetoric is often just a smokescreen for the real governing principle of modern conservatives: protecting the interests of the wealthy and powerful few at the top.

In essence, conservative policy adheres to small government principles when it serves these interests and just as quickly reverts to exercises of massive government power when it suits them as well.

Once again, the guiding principle is not small government. It’s the protection and extension of the interests of a wealthy and powerful uber-minority. Even when it’s bad for the majority. Even when it’s bad for America.

Let’s take a closer look. As mentioned, the area where small government philosophy really makes hay is in regards to progressive taxation, social programs and corporate regulation. Conservative politicians want as little of these as possible because they threaten the extreme wealth of their constituency. They certainly want to eliminate all “entitlement” programs, of course, because, admittedly, these are programs that the wealthy pay into without actually benefitting from. The top one percent can afford good schools, good health care. If a hurricane is coming they can skip town and hole up in the Four Season for as long as it takes. They don’t need government services. So why would they want to support them with their tax money? Seems unfair.

Yay small government!

With the death penalty, on the other hand, the government suddenly becomes an all-powerful, all-knowing Godlike entity. This inconsistency is easily explained by the fact that the death penalty, and the penal system itself, are perfectly in step with the concerns and interests of the wealthy minority. People in the top one percent don’t tend to find their way onto death row. On the contrary, death row is populated by the extremely poor and disenfranchised. This is not the time nor the place for a dissertation on the causes of crime, but there is strong evidence to suggest that high crime (which we have here in America) is a predictable offshoot of economic inequality. As the top one percent increases its wealth and power, then, they’ll want to stay on top of that increasingly pesky and pissed off criminal element. In this case, government rocks! Just don’t tell the tea partiers.

The military can be seen as an offshoot of this same impulse on a global scale. It seems pretty undeniable to say that America, while using its military idealistically in some cases, has often used it to protect our economic interests abroad and/or to do deal with any backlash from said endeavors. Thus, the military serves a role in increasing the wealth and power of the top one percent while at the same protecting it from miscellaneous global threats. And, best of all, it’s the poor and middle class kids who fight the wars. Win-win for the economic elites- they reap the benefits without making the sacrifice.

And while we’re considering the military, one would think that, if you’re a believer in the ability of the American military to implant democracy in a place like Iraq, it seems a small step from there to believe, let’s say, that a well-funded FEMA could be of some use in a case like Hurricane Katrina. Yet conservatives make no such leap. On the contrary, it was Bush II who downsized FEMA considerably, with his initial FEMA director Joe Allbaugh announcing that the agency constituted an “oversized entitlement program” and that “Expectations of when the federal government should be involved and the degree of involvement may have ballooned beyond what is an appropriate level.” To review: fighting two wars across the globe and implanting democracy in Iraq=appropriate exercise of government power; providing necessary assistance to Americans caught up in a natural disaster=inappropriate use of government power.

Again, the distinction has nothing to do with any kind of real dedication to small government in principle. It has to do with the fact that FEMA, unlike the military, provides no real benefit to the wealthy elites. Did you see many rich folk waving for help or dying in the streets in New Orleans?

Social issues like gay marriage and the Terry Schiavo case have no discernable economic motive, but they fit nicely into the overall effort to bolster political support. Gays make people uncomfortable across the social, economic and political spectrum, and therefore gay bashing is an effective way to gain public support for politicians primarily concerned with the economic interests of the elite.

Opposition to safe, legal abortion, on the other hand, is a two-fer. It serves the same electoral purpose as gay-bashing while simultaneously promoting a policy that has far more deleterious implications for the poor and middle class. Common sense dictates that the most desperate situations are those where the expectant mother is financially marginal, unable to properly care for a child, and perhaps looking at a lifetime of poverty with the child as opposed to a chance for education and/or a career without one. These types of concerns don’t come into play for the daughters of the rich. As happy as they are to support government extension of power over women’s bodies through legal limitations on safe abortions, however, conservatives revert to small government crusading when it comes to federal funding of abortion. Rich women will always be able to afford safe abortions. Poor women are on their own.

The undeniable conclusion is that small government is not, in reality, a useful or actual governing philosophy across the board. It’s a canard, and, more importantly, a tool of manipulation. Prior to 1980 the wealthiest folks in America were lacking such a tool. And their hold on power was dissipating as a result. They had no real mechanism for selling the policies that served their interests because these policies were contrary to the interests of the majority and to common sense itself.

And, then, in a bit of a perfect-storm scenario, the power of an idea took hold. The totalitarian experience of the 20^th century opened the door to the successful promotion of small government as an ideal. Economists like Milton Friedman pioneered the idea that government intrusion in the economy and on high-level wealth was inherently anti-democratic (a key point in the formation of small government rhetoric as an effective weapon). And then came Rush Limbaugh, FOX News, and the rest of the right-wing media army- the perfect mechanism for selling the small government philosophy. Bill O’Reilly, Glenn Beck. They’re men of the people. Just a couple of average Joes lookin’ out for the folks. You couldn’t ask for better messengers.

O’Reilly and Beck are at their best when railing against the liberal “elites”- a rhetorical magic trick in which the middle class is encouraged to (and generally does) regard the Democrats as the ones who are out of touch with their interests. Obama, Reid, Pelosi, they’re all hoity-toity elites with no clue how the average guy thinks and feels. Conservatives, by comparison really do know how the average guy thinks and feels. Actually, this might be true, but conservatives are more interested in using this information for political manipulation than public policy that serves anyone’s interests aside from their own.

This is precisely why candidates like George W. Bush and Sarah Palin tend to wind up on center stage in Republican political campaigns. They wrap up pro-elite economic policy in a down home, folksy package, promoting the intended false impression that the out of touch elites are on the left rather than the right.

Indeed, while there may be some form of liberal elite in this country, the only elites that really matter, the ones that are truly dangerous, are those on the right using small government rhetoric to dominate policy. Nobody epitomizes this modern menace better than right-wing idea man Bill Kristol. Born into a politically and economically prominent family, Kristol went to a fancy Manhattan prep school, then Harvard, then hit the ground running thanks to daddy’s connections.

Kristol’s education, his health care, his path to glory were pretty much set in stone from the get-go. Yet he leads the charge against improvements in health care, education and opportunity to those below him on the economic ladder. He also never fought in a war or served in the military- but was a leading proponent of going to war in Iraq. His maniacal fear of retreating one inch from the privilege he was born into seeps through in the famous memo he wrote to fellow conservative insiders urging defeat of Bill Clinton’s 1994 health care plan:

“[If passed, the Clinton health care plan] will re-legitimize middle class dependence for ‘security’ on government spending and regulation. It will revive the reputation of the party that spends and regulates, the Democrats, as the generous protector of middle class interests. And it will at the same time strike a punishing blow against Republican claims to defend the middle class by restraining government.”

Notice that Kristol is focused here on Republican “claims” to defend the middle class through small government policies. He’s not concerned with actually protecting those interests- just claiming to. Because his real objective is to protect to interests of his own cohort, the extreme economic elite, by convincing the other 99% to misconstrue their own best interests and play along.

And then there’s former president George W. Bush. Nothing exposes the vacancy of Bush’s supposed small government philosophy like his business dealings in buying the Texas Rangers baseball franchise in the late 1980’s. Bush tapped into daddy’s rolodex to assemble a group of investors, gladly accepted $200 million in tax payer money to help build a new stadium, and, most egregiously (and hypocritically) of all, worked with local government to use eminent domain to force private landowners off their property so that he and his cronies could develop the land around the new stadium for personal profit. Once again: George W. Bush used eminent domain to force private landowners off their land so that he and his cadre of wealthy, connected private investors could cash in. Initially the dispossessed landowners were compensated at a rate far below market value. Only years later, after lengthy lawsuits, were they awarded a fair market rate. Read all about it here.

This episode from the business life of George W. Bush exemplifies how the wealthy and powerful are quick to apply small government when it suits them (reduced taxes for the wealthy, reduced corporate regulations) and then equally quick to embrace the most egregious big government tactics (eminent domain) when it serves them as well. Yet again, we see that “small government” and “individual freedom” are smokescreens for the real guiding principle: the extension of wealth and power for the privileged few.

In times like these it’s hard to say whether modern society as a whole is making any kind of “progress” aside from the technological. But, for the richest one percent, when it comes to addressing the age-old dilemma of securing and even extending their hold on power against all odds, the last thirty years of American life give indication that they are perfecting their craft.

Under the divine right of kings in medieval Europe the vast majority stoically accepted their fate and tolerated life on the margins.

In small government America they take to the streets and demand it.

One look around the not-so-plush interior of the Panda and you know Elijah Jones isn’t in it for the money. He’s not in it for the chicks either- his girlfriend Shab Bashiri is a singer in the band. He makes little or no mention of achieving international fame, attaining worldwide musical dominance, or someday starting a clothing line. He’s living completely in the moment, excited about tonight’s performance, about the music he’s creating, the people he’s working with, and the road life he so clearly thrives on.

And as far as I can tell he’s happier than a pig in you-know-what.

As a child his mother used play him the intro to “Layla” on the piano and his father was a Baptist preacher. Watching The Constellations onstage it’s apparent that he’s inherited more than his share of musical talent- and he’s got a bit of the preacher in him as well. Actually, preacher doesn’t quite describe it. He’s more like a shaman, refusing to accept anything less than the provocation of an absolute unholy frenzy among his bandmates and anyone else with a pulse who happens to be in the immediate vicinity.   

Then again, it’s not like the rest of The Constellations are lacking for inspiration. Keyboard player Jamie Gordon hovers over his ivory machine like a man possessed, venturing forth now and again to give the cow bell a rhythmic beat down. Bass player Wes Hoffman is a sight to behold, strutting around the stage like a latter day John Belushi with an afro the likes of which haven’t been seen on a white man in these parts since the MC5 rolled through town in 1972, all the while laying down beats so fundamental to the band’s sound that they’re more like frontbeats than backbeats. If there’s such a thing as a “lead bassist” Hoffman is surely that. Drummer Nackers is often frontal to the group’s sound as well, joining with Hoffman on songs like “Setback” to pound home vicious “Tomorrow Never Knows”-like pulsations. Guitarists Trevor Birdsong and Ryan Franklin fill the gaps with perfectly timed funk flourishes. And last but certainly not least, Bashiri and Alaina Terry are much more than window dressing, though they do provide a welcome bit of eye candy. Bashiri and Terry may be backup singers but they’re very much in the foreground of the live show, providing a dreamy 60’s feel that is essential to “Setback” and laying important mood-setting sonic foundations for Jones to riff off on “We’re Here to the Save the Day” and “Weighing Me Down.” In the middle of at all is Jones, the vortex around which all else swirls. Let’s just say this isn’t a band lacking for energy or onstage theatrics.

In a memorable set at Spaceland on Monday night The Constellations flashed a musical style that might best be described as 60’s psychedelia meets hip hop with healthy doses of guitar funk, soul and punk rock attitude mixed in. It’s a testament to the band’s overall chemistry that so many eclectic influences and talented musicians can come together in such a cohesive manner. On songs like “Felicia” the band demonstrates a strong pop sensibility. In fact, “Felicia,” is downright infectious, the kind of tune that you can’t get out of your head after you hear it once or twice.  This seems fitting, since the song is about a girl you wouldn’t easily forget either- the kind of girl your mom warned you about and your dad dreamed about. Not surprisingly it’s the first single in the U.S. off the band’s forthcoming album Southern Gothic, scheduled for release June 22 (although “Felicia” as well as “Setback” are currently available on iTunes as singles.)

For all the sense of fun that the band conveys in playing these songs, their music also bears the mark of a dark and dirty southern influence as well. “Setback” gives strong indication of this, with Jones playing the role of the street poet, identifying with the grift and grime of his beloved Atlanta. Jones has a way of celebrating and even romanticizing the desperate characters of the street that is reminiscent of early Springsteen. This came across loud and clear on the Monday night closer “Step Right Up,” which Jones introduced with an intentionally maniacal laughing scream and which culminated with all kinds of sinister mayhem breaking loose onstage. It’s something that Jones re-wrote from a song originally created by Tom Waits- the artist he most respects and admires among his many influences.

Before including the song on Southern Gothic, Jones had to get the green light from Waits himself. Although they never met in person, Waits requested copies of the song and lyrics before eventually giving his okay. Imagine being an artist in any genre and gaining such a stamp of approval from your biggest hero. Now that’s satisfaction that bottle service can’t buy.

At 117,000 miles, the Velvet Panda is on its last legs, but The Constellations will be going strong in the coming months, hitting the festival circuit in their new van, already christened the Vanna White, with stops at Bonnaroo and Lollapalooza among others scheduled along the way.

Part I: Pre-Date Tunes

There’s a lot to be said for mental preparation. Rather than just wandering aimlessly from one situation in life to the next, feel free to take a few moments to focus on the matter at hand. So you’ve got a date tonight…presumably you’ll be taking a shower, choosing an outfit, combing your hair, all that good stuff, and you’ll need some music to listen to in the process. The right selection here can put you in the ideal state of mind for romantic success. The wrong one can set the stage for disaster. Avoid anything too deep or dark, anything that reminds you of ex-girlfriends or personal failure of any kind. Keep it light, upbeat, but not over the top. This is not the time for the “Rocky” theme or AC/DC’s “Hell’s Bells.”  Satanic imagery is not good for the pre-date psyche. We’re looking for something that reinforces the required self-image: suave, debonair, laid back but totally in charge. That’s you. Here are some musical suggestions (in reverse order) that can help take you there:

2. Sinatra – Key Songs: “My Way”; “Summer Wind.”

Now we’re venturing into the rarefied air of pre-date listening. Not only does Sinatra’s music take you where you need to be, but the man himself personifies what we’re going for…Francis Albert Sinatra. Now that’s someone you can channel as you head off into the night. All swagger and attitude. Warmth and romance without an ounce of sentimentality. Feeling a little pre-date anxiety? Let it drift away with the warm Summer Wind. Now go out and do it your way.

1. Joao Gilberto & Stan Getz – Key Song: “Girl from Ipanema.”

Stan Getz may not be as hip as Sinatra, but he’s plenty hip himself. More than close enough to suit our purposes here. Start off with “Girl From Ipanema” and let it go from there. Soak it in. The Brazilian bossa nova. A sublime dose of Latin romance. The musical personification of cool. This music is so cool that anyone who listens to it automatically becomes cool. It’s impossible not to. Picture yourself negotiating your date like a Getz sax solo: effortless, mysterious, self-assured, playful, timelessly sexy.