Sunday, May 6, 2012

Digitalism dance to the harmony of song

Obviously there aren't meaningful lines between dance, pop, and indie-rock anymore, since more and more instrument-focused acts born as rock bands are leaning on the techniques of electronic music production to modernize their sound. But sometimes that transition works the other way around too, when a traditional DJ-culture act starts to focus more on the songwriting process typical of rock bands. Take Digitalism, the German electro/house team: their 2011 single "2 Hearts," a careering, guitar-driven, post-neo-disco-punk-indie/whatever track may be the most exuberantly danceable "song" (as opposed to a "track," mind you) of the year.

Liquid: Toast with Most

What's the best part of any wedding? Well, besides love or whatever, I mean. It's the drinking, right? It's the experience of elbowing up to an open bar and drinking yourself sideways with your oldest friends in the world (even if one of those old friends is someone's weird uncle you just met five minutes ago). But couples have to be careful about letting the liquid flow too freely: instead of hemorrhaging the unborn kid's college fund by serving every liquor under the sun, it might be smarter to choose a specialty wedding cocktail with just a handful of ingredients. So we asked a few experts around town to share their ideas for creative cocktails that have wide appeal, eschew logistical nightmares, and reflect the true spirit of a wedding - a time for romance, elegance, celebration, and drinking enough to stomach your family all weekend.

The I Formation: My friends hate watching football with me. I couldn’t be happier.

Though pro football has never been more popular on television, attendance in NFL stadiums has decreased for four straight years. The arguments in favor of watching at home are plentiful: It’s cheaper, easier to park, and the view on your HD flat screen is better than from your stadium seat. Despite all of those obvious advantages, attendance has been similarly pitiful at my apartment this season. If my football get-togethers were games, they'd be blacked out more often than the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Why can't I get anyone to watch football with me?

Your first guess is probably that my friends don't enjoy my company, and you'd be right. But I also find myself turning down other people’s invitations and opting for a hermitic approach to football Sundays. It used to be a given that my friends would meet up at someone’s house each week. And this year, only four out of 12 of us bothered to show up for our fantasy draft barbecue. The Bowling Alone effect isn’t just for participatory sports any more. In this age of fantasy football and DVR, rooting for your favorite team has become a pastime that’s best enjoyed by yourself, hunkered down in a fandom isolation chamber. We are now millions of audiences of one.

Some of the reasons I prefer to keep to myself are as old as fandom itself. The inherent shamefulness of overzealous rooting—guilty as charged—causes me to duck out on social obligations, especially when I know the game will be ruined by a fun anchor who's indifferent about sports. (I’ve never understood blind rage until I watched my beloved New England Patriots lose in the playoffs while some killjoy was talking about how football is emblematic of our violent American culture.) The small talk, the elaborate food rituals, and the children milling about all take away from the experience of watching the game. Even so, I’ve always been willing to put up with human contact, as the benefits of a group football hangout usually outweighed the negatives.


Technology has changed that calculus. I no longer need to be in the same room with my friends to share a collective moment of euphoria. Now I can simply share my delight on Twitter or Facebook and collect dozens of electronic high-fives instantaneously. I spend more time now interacting with my friends digitally than in the flesh; it’s only logical that we'd take that approach to sports as well. Right now, for example, my friend is G-chatting me about how much he hates Tim Tebow, while another handful are complaining about their teams on our fantasy league board and a third group is texting me about the Patriots game. In a living room, you'd call that noise. Here at home, it's a lot easier to manage. We're essentially watching TV together—why do we need to be in the same room?
As home-theater technology has filtered down to the masses, we’ve all become captains of our own sport-y spaceships. DVRs have become much more commonplace in just the last few years, with the percentage of DVR-equipped homes increasing from 14 percent to 42 percent since 2007. HD has also become mandatory for sports fans, and diehards can now follow multiple games at once thanks to NFL Sunday Ticket and the revolutionary RedZone channel.

Now that a personalized, crystal-clear picture is at everyone's fingertips, it is pure torture to let someone else man the controls. Watching my friends operate a DVR makes me feel like a nervous backseat driver. When I'm at my in-laws’ house, for instance, I have to watch the Patriots game in a separate room because my father-in-law will inevitably flip over to golf during commercials. Personally, I like to pause the action every time there's a stoppage in play or when, say, the damn Patriots defense allows yet another third down conversion. (That happens a lot.) After I hit pause, I'll walk around the house a few times grinding my teeth. If I did that with company around, it would inevitably lead to someone complaining about being behind real time and somebody else whining that he can’t check his fantasy numbers without spoiling the game that’s now on pause. And they would be right to complain, if those hypothetical people still came over to watch football. Thankfully, I’ve scared them all away.

On the few recent occasions that I have dragged myself to a friend's house, or vice versa, we spend most of the time staring at our smart phones and tablets. What exactly is the benefit of physical proximity in that scenario? “Check out this funny tweet I just sent” doesn't really count as conversation, does it? And there's always the one poor guy who didn't bring his laptop and has to continually ask one of us to check his scores for him. He might as well be watching the game through a hole in a wooden fence like a cartoon character from the 1930s.

This together/alone approach isn’t unique to sports viewership. Consider how video-game producers have moved away from split-screen games and multicontroller hubs and toward online multiplayers where everyone logs in from their couch. A generation of children is being raised with the idea that “hanging out” means logging on and “playing” with your friends online. Internet porn is similarly encroaching on our actual sex lives. It's often more convenient to just get the job done digitally, by yourself, at your leisure.

Is technology like this isolating, or does it allow us to connect with more people more often? In this case, I'd say it’s both at once. I still want to interact with my friends through sports, but I can reach more of my fellow Patriots fans through a single tweet than I ever could have back in the analog era. There are plenty of days, though, when my increasingly personalized approach to sports-watching makes interpersonal connections harder to achieve. If I’m watching on DVR delay, I have to avoid Facebook and texts and chats so as not to spoil the game. That means I’m eschewing both the real-life social experience and the techno-social one—but, hey, at least I don't have to make small talk during the beer ads.

I’ll leave one final thought for the sports philosophers. Fandom is the quintessentially shared experience, the modern expression of the primal collective. But if I’m cheering for Wes Welker by myself—in my house, watching on tape delay, with my phone turned off—does it even make a sound?

Slate

BMA rocks with the tried, true, and new

Matthew J. Lee/Globe Staff
Electronic Artist award winners Freezepop were icy cool and dance-friendly in their synth-pop dance party, with Liz Enthusiasm as the lead singer.

The Liberty Hotel, the cheekily named swank locale and onetime prison, has seen its share of characters both high and low saunter through its stout stone walls over the years. Last night at the 24th edition of the Boston Music Awards, it may have played host to its most interesting rogues’ gallery yet. 

Tough calls at Boston Music Awards

BOSTON MUSIC AWARDS 2011

With Moufy, Viva Viva, Bloco AfroBrazil, Roy Sludge, Freezepop, and others.
At: Liberty Hotel, 215 Charles St., Boston. Sunday, 7 p.m. Tickets: $20-$99. www.bostonmusicawards2011.com

On Sunday the 24th edition of the Boston Music Awards takes over the Liberty Hotel again this year to showcase the best in Boston music. With performances from a dozen-plus of the nominees throughout the venue, it’s a one-stop chance to catch up on all the home-brewed talent you fell in love with this year, or to discover what you’ve been missing out on. We broke down some of the top awards categories below with who we think should win, who has an outside chance, and why.

Thursty: Firebrand Saints

  ERIN BALDASSARI/METRO.
Food, drink and space, the final frontier, are all plentiful at Firebrand Saints. 


From your first visit to the website of Firebrand Saints you can tell something's a little different here.
It's a clone of a NASA website, with a little button for the menu hidden up in the top corner.
Ohhhkaaayy. Inside the newest restaurant in Kendall Square (natch), the interplay of science, art and food continues with beaker-like water glasses, deconstructed video installations of the the TV feed in a rotating collage and sketches of Google map locations projected onto the wall above you while you sit at a grated metal and wooden bar overlooking an open kitchen where hunks of meat rotate on spits.

Tiki's Next Wave

halffull111105
F. Martin Ramin for The Wall Street Journal, Styling by Anne Cardenas
 
Tiki Drinks, from left: Lunch Cart, Fog Cutter, A Day at the Races

Over the past few years, the craft cocktail world has reimmersed itself in the retro delights of the Tiki bar, bringing respect back to drinks that had been maligned as tacky. It's a broad genre, but as a general rule, they give off a summery vibe with flavored syrups, fruit juices and, of course, rum. Lots and lots of rum.