Neon Indian (FOR SMART PEOPLE ONLY)

Contents of a communication (version 1.1) to professor Janis Johnson (expert in American Indian culture, professor at the University of Idaho):

Intended for immediate circulation among academic professors (especially those who specialize in music, music history, American culture / literature, and the American Indian experience) direct from a nice little college town in Idaho:

SUBJECT:
NEON INDIAN (Am. Indian voice in (recurring?) Electropop revival fad)

BODY:
I'll contribute a little hard-hitting pop philosophy in the Western analytical tradition.

What I'm calling the (hopefully recurring) Electropop revival fad (otherwise known as synthwave, or retrowave, and things like that) is a very interesting grassroots movement in the independent music community. For myself, it's a little important to look into what appears to be the aesthetic focus of the movement.

Although many very legitimate exponents of the idea are cropping up all over the Internet, the aesthetic brainchild (properly understood) of the movement appears to be a man by the name of Seth Haley.

The whole focus of the new / revised genre involves exploring different ideas of organic[ity] regarding sequenced, looped, processed, sampled et cetera, digital and analog electronic, digital-electronic, and algorithmic sound synthesis / resynthesis techniques. So far my favorite exponents of this genre appear to be the work of Seth Haley and a private digital edit of my favorite track by Neon Indian (which I cannot release for copyright reasons).

The name of the track is exactly this: "Mind, Drips". (It's important to note that capitalization, grammar, and so forth are all fairly important in the title, and that it be properly quoted to signify that it is in fact the title of the work in question.)

I'll endeavor to use my knowledge of synthesis techniques to try to explain the cultural significance of the movement, as my knowledge, I think, is fairly extensive in this area. I'll try to keep it short, but it may take a while.

I think the most important cultural factor here is the well-observed and fairly obvious fact that digital synth techniques (digital-electronic as well as algorithmic) are almost never expensive, and very easy to come by. On the same hand, however, authentic analog electronic techniques are invariably difficult to procure in just about every possible way. This fact pretty much cuts to the root of scientific and philosophical inquiry itself in the Western tradition.

It would take an extremely long time to get into what I mean by that, and since that's not the focus of this, I'll let that by for now.

I'll first use a short burst of theory to explain this. Authentic analog electronic paths introduce true-random noise into the synthesis structure of the technology, whereas digital techniques are usually suffocatingly precise. In terms of a single step in my aesthetic journey as a musician: I had a struggle at one point trying to come up with powerful, bassy sounds. I assummed, incorrectly, that the right way to do it was with sharp and exact digitally-produced synthesized audio wave files. My working theory at the time was, the more sharp, and the more exact, the more powerful.

Upon even modest historical investigation of the subject, however, it became very clear that I was exactly wrong. The ONLY way I can think of to produce truly powerful sounds is the introduction of reasonably true-random noise.

We don't have to worry too much (as artists, anyway) about the mathematical/philosophical/theoretical notions regarding the definition of "true-random" as I'm fairly sure this is still a point of controversy. However. The salient point here involves organic[ity] using electronics and computers. (Although from time to time so far I also hear a guitar.)

I can't delve too much further into this due to lack of time, though it's all over the Internet. Perhaps it would be best to offer a couple of examples and how they illustrate the point. (Be aware, from time to time, I may fudge a few details.)

TITLE:
Com Truise (aka Seth Haley) — ControlPop

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
This track involves some of the most cheezy synth techniques not from the '80s, but actually (I think) from the '70s (wide filter sweeps). It's very much looped, very repetitive. It begins by (and by? it did repeat at least once here) harsh and grating pop music (esque?) samples. The point of organi[city] mainly involves the exact model and build of the specific synthesizers used, and their respective circuit-paths. I actually don't know any of these models and builds at all, but that's the factor. It's very much about figuring out the exact right insane genius who created the exact right synthesis technique (and embodiment) and coming to terms with their particular and individual method of introducing randomness to generate powerful sounds. After that, the aesthetic decisions regarding placement (in the track) should be very simple, however, it may be difficult sometimes to procure the necessary funding to buy the equipment.

TITLE:
Com Truise — "VHS Sex" (listen on YouTube)

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
This one is a little more controlled. By appearances, far less synthesis techniques were used than the last track, and the power here relies mainly on the theoretical notion of introducing randomness primarily regarding such-and-such synthesizer (I know not which). The main point is that there are less synths. (On a personal note, I find this track a little difficult, because of the vocal sample, because, as a budding filmmaker, I continue to have fantasies about using this exact track in the official My Little Pony (FIM) movie regarding important scenes focusing on Princesses Celestia and Luna, where power is particularly relevant. I find it difficult to imagine, unfortunately, how a large corporation could possibly get away with such a thing, though, even if the samples were removed, which sort-of would've been my creative decision.)

TITLE:
Jeff Mills — "Phase 4"

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
This isn't really part of the movement, per se, but it's still relevant, and I can explain quickly. Organi[city] was easily achieved using two repeated samples of some esoteric, virtuoso technique on the violin. The rest was mechanical.

TITLE:
Com Tuise — "Data Kiss"

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
This one is very difficult to explain. The track is actually one of his weaker ones, aesthetically (in my humble opinion, which of course should be understood within the context of my own, personal, aesthetic commitments as an artist at this point), but that's not what I want to talk about.

The main thing I want to talk about here is the video produced by a man named "David Dean Burkhart" for the track. It is only a remix of what appears to be a low-budget '80s flick by the name of "Looker." Organicity, here, appears to have been amazingly achieved merely through the editing of the video. There is one point of organicity I'm certain about, and one I'm not so sure about. The first (I'm fairly 100% sure) is exactly this: organicity achieved through asynchronous usage of rather categorically different modes of editing and capture technologies. If you watch some of the "subliminal"-(ish) cuts very closely, you'll notice that as the cuts get smaller, the screen flickers more. I cannot conceive of any possible way to achieve this except through exactly the method I described: asynchronous usage of (rather) categorically different modes of editing and capture technologies.

The second, which I'm not so sure about, is the very last motion clip at the end, where the protagonist-girl kind-of dissolves like a rainbow (except a little more like a mathematical rainbow of just one color). It looks like the kind of thing which you'd do using "analog, modular video synthesis" (emphasis on the word "video" and "modular"), but I don't think this technique was in vogue in the '80s, and is rather expensive to produce, particularly on a limited time-frame. But I'm not sure.

TITLE:
Neotone (aka Nathan Foster, the author) — "Crystadeline"

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
This is my own contribution, but it may be difficult for some. For one, of the one's I've mentioned, it appears (to me anyway) to be the least organic. And the main problem was that I was forced to use mainly weird math, as well as exactly 1 and 1/2 of exactly the wrong kind of synthesizer, as well as (luckily) exactly the right authentic, analog filtering technology.

In addition to stock FutureLoops (FruityLoops, I think, at the time, but they got sued) samples, I used two synthesizers. They were not authentic-analog, by any reputable understanding of the term. One of them was one or another of the Casio brand of synthesizers. However, interestingly, I somehow was able to get away (aesthetically) with using a fairly lossless and unmodified live-recorded sample line as the second bass track from this synth. Simply by choosing exactly the right preset. (I'm not sure how I did that.)

The second synth has a little more troubled of a history. The model of the synth is the "Korg Poly 800 MKII". First of all, the circuit path of this synth is pretty much flawed in every way a circuit path can be flawed in a digital-electronic synthesizer. It was produced, I think, to sell quickly. And second of all, the previous owner had no idea how to take care of vintage synths, and it's a miracle the thing still works. (I also kind-of broke the rules by playing on the synth keyboard directly, instead of sequencing through a midi connection. It does help, though, that this was one part of the way organicity was achieved.) Most of the synth samples were collected using this synth.

There were a couple of other ways, too. For one, I used an amplifier-to-microphone sampling technique using a fairly acoustically dirty amplifier. The dirtiness of the amp helped, and (though I didn't intend for this to happen) it also helped that some background noises involving the Audacity metronome were picked up, and I was able to accept this eventuality aesthetically.

The third, and most important factor in the synthesis technique I used was really the miracle of the story. Somehow, at some point, I was able to come across a good deal of money. One of the things I purchased (true-to-form in the musical tradition in question) was exactly the right synthesis (module) produced by exactly the right insane genius. The product is the revised version of the Sherman Filterbank (rack-mountable, but that's not important). I was able to create an ad-hoc modular analog synthesizer with a very pleasing circuit path simply by connecting an audio patch cable between the MKII and the Filterbank. I used automatic ADSR triggering techniques in the filterbank, as well as a little distortion, and it all seemed to work out. (It's a very nice module because it's not that expensive, easy to use, well-designed, and anyway, there are a lot of them in production, I believe. It has a strange reputation of being able to inject organi[city] everywhere it goes.)

Another important point to note was the focus of the track. I set out with exactly the intention of achieving exactly the same "sound" (or "style," or whatever) as the track "VHS Sex," and furthermore, by using exactly the same, minimalistic chord progression. While making, of course, my own artistic statement. And I achieved exactly that. I suppose due to echoes of my previous aesthetic commitments as a musician, the track also ended up being more minimalist in nature. I threw in exactly two strange, fetishistic female vocal samples derived in these respective ways: One was conceptually fetishistic ("I feel you coming"), which was shipped royalty-free and licensed as a stock sample in the version of FruityLoops I was using at the time, and strangly and a-tonally modified using various functionality in the program. The second was a woman (Psifon) faking an orgasm, who recorded the sample herself, and uploaded it for free to Freesound.org. (I feel strange noting this, as an artist, but by the way, she did a very good job.) A couple sequencing decisions later, and I had a track.

I'd also hasten to note that another sample is an extremely speeded-up one of a something-or-other (probably another Casio preset), and the other is a very well-collected, well-selected, and well-used sample of a Sanza (traditional African musical instrument). Hope no one's aesthetically offended by either of these.

TITLE:
Neon Indian — "Mind, Drips"

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
This track is extremely rare as an artistic achievement. It's very, very organic, first of all. Synthesizer techniques were used in exactly the right way. Some of the details were fudged, but it turned out very beautifully. And one, oft-overlooked aspect of this movement, by so many authors, is the presence of beautiful and complex poetic lyrics. (Only once did I see something like this on the Internet — what appears to be Com Truise's remix of Foster the People's "Helena Beat," but it isn't really the same, since two different sources produced the work. It's another amazing track which I also have fantasies about using in the official My Little Pony movie, but as a director, I'd be satisfied to settle with the track in question here ("Mind, Drips."))

I hate to bring this nonsense up AGAIN, but in my HUMBLE opinion as an artist, due to my current artistic commitments as an artist, I do wish the track were a little longer, though I'm willing to accept competing opinions. I've already produced my own edit, and I listen to it all the time. (Of course, for the purposes of the My Little Pony movie, it'd certainly be better to use the shorter version, which would run during the credits. Perhaps I'd be able to get away with both songs, if there were enough artists involved in the making of the film.)

TITLE:
Airliner (also Seth Haley) — "Illuminism"

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
Organicity is achieved through dialectical negotiation between artistic intent and skillful prediction of / happy accidents regarding algorithmic results, all revolving around the musical notion of rhythm.

TITLE:
Airliner — "Everyday"

DESCRIPTION:
Organicity is achieved through dialectical negotiation between artistic intent and skillful prediction of / happy accidents regarding algorithmic results, all revolving around the musical notion of chord progression.

TITLE:
HYPERDRIVER — "KEEP IT HARDCORE (...RUSHES IN WITH A HAMMER)" (title in all-caps as it appears on my hard drive)

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
I'd better hasten to mention this track, although the genre is very different. I'm a little unaware of HYPERDRIVER's creative process. But organic[ity] was easily, and probably very quickly achieved in this track by what appeared to be a long-distance phone call between two friends in different countries who met over the Internet. (The story behind this one takes a while to explain, but I may have already gotten one or two of the details wrong, and I'm sure the folks in question can speak for themselves.)



Pretty much all of this music is available for free over the Internet. However, I'm absolutely certain that all these people REALLY REALLY REALLY want to make money. It is available for free, per se, but it's pretty much just a slick marketing technique, and in a sense (I suppose), all (or at least most) roads lead to Ghostly Intl. (a Corporation). (With the exception of a couple artists, for instance Neon Indian, who releases under a different label, and manages his own webpage: neonindian.com.)

It's important to understand the notions here regarding the concept of Organicity, and the various ways in which it is achieved, within my specific tradition of electronic pop music synthesis.

Yes, Jimi Hendrix was That Good

I just wrote the following for pay (I hope) in an article of tips for learning to play guitar:

Read books.

Read novels, plays, the epistemology of Descartes, and the history of the Jewish people. This is perhaps the strangest advice you've heard, but it is essential. The pop industry makes millions of dollars off the idea that they can sell bad music that all sounds the same and no one will notice. Well, no one notices because they don't even know their own culture. As Bob Marley says, "If you know your history, then you know where you're coming from." He is a legendary guitarist and musician, not because he could play scales at the speed of light and make weird sounds like Jimi Hendrix, but because he knew exactly where he was coming from.

But then I thought about it: what if the reason why Jimi Hendrix could make all those weird sounds is because he really could play scales at the speed of light?

Art and Business

In my filing cabinet at home, I have a dollar bill.

It is a special dollar bill. I had it when I was in the mental hospital years ago. When I was in that place, I had only a couple of dollars to my name. And every couple of days the hospital would send around a cart and allow you to give them your money for whatever they had for sale. I decided early on that while I would buy perhaps a couple of items, I would save exactly one dollar and never spend it. The mental hospital took away everything important to me—it took away my freedom, my dreams, my artistic capabilities. I was spiritually broke. I was NOT going to let them make me financially broke as well. So I saved that one dollar bill, and still have it to this day.

A lot of people do things similar to what I did. Businesses everywhere take the first dollar they earn, have it framed, and hang it on their walls. I think we're doing something very interesting when we do this.

See, when I took that dollar and decided not to spend it, I grew the United States economy by exactly one dollar. And now, to me, that dollar bill is worth more than $1. I would not sell it for $1 (or something worth $1)—if I ever do sell it, it will be for more than a dollar.

For me, personally, that dollar has increased my wealth. I can put a measurement on it: Say I'm not willing to let go of the dollar and all it means to me for less than $50. If that's the case, I have increased my personal wealth by exactly $49. And I would have grown the economy. See, when I bought the dollar bill for $1, I grew the economy by $1. The number on my bank account is decreased by $1. When I put the dollar back into circulation, I diminish the economy by $1. But when the other person buys it for $50, it grows the economy by $50, causing a net growth of $49.

Of course, so far, I've talked only about my personal wealth. I, personally, am not willing to sell that dollar for less than $50 (we're assuming). However, the real question is of course whether or not someone else agrees with me. Otherwise, it's ridiculous to say I've grown the economy. I may have grown my own psychological economy, but I haven't grown the U.S. economy. Getting others to agree is a work of art.

By saving this particular dollar, I am making an artistic statement brimming with social commentary. That dollar is fine art. It tells a story involving one man and the mental health system. It gives a moral lesson of patience and frugality. It criticizes systemic exploitation in the psychiatric establishment. It has a happy ending: I left the hospital victorious because I didn't spend it. And it improves the value of the person who buys it: They can hang it on their wall now and share in my triumph against the system. (If they buy my story about it, that is.)

This is why I am somewhat confused that our economy isn't an art-based economy. In fact, people often claim, falsely, that we need to be less "artistic" about our economy and produce more physical things in factories. I can't think of anything more Marxist and further from the truth. When you produce physical things, you're stealing wealth from the Mother Earth and selling it for hardly any more value than it was worth in the first place. This is what China does: the Communist Party extracts wealth from their banks, who extract wealth from the workers, who extract wealth from the Earth. There's no growth, regardless of what the numbers say: it's just exploitation. When you make art, however, whatever you do is nothing but pure added value. If you're an artist, the materials you work with, whatever they are, are worth hardly anything compared to the worth of the final piece of art. China's Communist Party could never allow this, because it gives so much wealth and power to individual artists, when they want all the wealth and power for themselves. So why on Earth is our economy so eager to profit off of stuff other than art while almost completely ignoring this treasure trove of business opportunity?

For whatever reason, we have not developed the infrastructure necessary for an art-based economy. Certain art forms have taken some steps, of course—Western music is based on the accumulation of hundreds of years of deep meditation and hard work. The twelve-tone musical system and our system of musical notation have allowed for extremely complex and rich musical ideas unmatched by any other culture. In music from other cultures, it's rare to find even basic harmony, let alone key changes, because in their musical systems such concepts don't make any sense. They have spent less time developing their musical infrastructure.

Fashion has had a similar experience. (Well, women's fashion at least. Which is why I wear women's clothes so often. Shh.) Before Louis IV, people wore traditional dress which remained unchanged for years. But to increase the glory of the kingdom, I suppose, they began to think of ways to change the fashion of the time. Now, as a result of developments in the fashion art's artistic infrastructure, we have a kind of fashion grammar rich with all kinds of innovative concepts (collars, collar stands, a-line forms, shifts, hour-glass forms, etc.) This rich array of elements in the art's infrastructure is what allows our fashion to be so complex, exciting, and ever-changing.

So in a couple of art forms, some basic infrastructure has been developed. The business infrastructure may also be developed to some extent, but, I would argue, not enough.

Think of the things investors look at before they invest in a business. They look at the psychological characteristics of the CEO. Are they a leader? Do they have drive? Are they motivated? Excited? Do they work well with others? The answers to these questions determine whether or not the company will succeed. They look at the product. Is it something people want? Does it satisfy a need? If they put it on a shelf, will it move? They look at history. Has this person ran successful businesses in the past? Have products like this sold well in the past? They look at the research. Is there concrete, empirical evidence that the product will sell? They also look at the intent. Does the company have a solid plan moving forward? Does this plan take into account incomes and costs? When investors look into these things, in depth, they can gauge how much they and the economy will benefit.

See, when we think of artists, we have this notion that you just go out into the world and be yourself and somehow, unexplainably, end up being brilliant and make tons of money. I think this is nonsense. What is someone buying when they buy your art? If you can't answer that question, I'm sorry, but you shouldn't become an artist. Imagine if we treated businesses this way. "I'm going to be a businessman. I'm going to go out in the world, be myself, and make a business that's brilliant in some unexplainable way, and people will be inspired for some unexplainable reason, and I'll make tons of money." I wouldn't invest in this person, would you?

People don't buy art just because you're so awesome they can't stand not spending their money on you. But I think people tend to think this is how it works. So what we need to do, then, is think less about what art says about the artist, and more about what it says about the person who spends money on it. This means that instead of being subjective, we must be objective. I know... that sounds sacrilegious. But it's true. I make movies as well as music. But I invest more in my movies than my music. Why? Because the people who listen to music want to have a shared experience with their friends and their communities, which usually implies a live performance. And I can't perform my music live. So I know no matter how good the music is, it's never going to sell. The only way it would sell is if it were so popular that a shared experience would be implied regardless of whether or not it's live.

Movies, on the other hand, play a slightly different cultural role. If people wanted a shared experience of film and video, there would've never been such a thing as television, and people wouldn't sit alone in dark rooms at night trancing out in front of it. Yes, I know, there is also radio. But how do people listen to music on the radio? In their cars, with the windows rolled down, and as loud as possible! They obviously want to share their experience! But people who watch television, on the other hand, don't do it with the curtains self-consciously drawn. So I've made a business decision: I'm going to invest in film more than music.

And another thing: I'm not going to even think of distributing my films with a distributor without some kind of business sense about whether or not the stuff would sell. Otherwise, I'm wasting everybody's time.

This is how we artists need to think. We need to think of art as a business, objectively, with detailed numerical measurements of potential for making money. If we do this, we can grow ourselves and the economy. And, by the way, we won't in any way diminish our creativity or value as an artist. Creativity is not measured by how "true to ourselves" we are. It is measured by how inspired the work is. And how inspired the work is is measured by how inspired people are by looking at it. How inspired we are is merely a convenient way of gauging whether it will inspire others. And, by the way, if it inspires others, it'll sell. We need to think about this. If we don't, we're wasting everybody's time.

Artistic Complexity

If you're an artist trying to strive for complexity, there's a couple of directions you can take. You can have surface complexity, which is simply just a lot of stuff going on. The IDM genre is like this, and I think it's why that genre isn't very popular. It's only complex on the surface. An analogy to rock would be having a drum beat which breaks to do a fill every other measure. After a while it gets old.

Another type of surface complexity is when you do something unique which no one else had thought of before, which requires lots of equipment, or "creativity," or virtuosity. For example, coming up with a new synth hit that has a lot of nuance. Again, I classify this as surface complexity because it's not very interesting. It's just a gimmick. So you've come up with a new thing nobody has done before. Yeah, but is it interesting?

So instead of surface complexity, you could decide to do deep complexity. This is where you inspire complex and interesting thoughts in the art consumer. In music, this requires coming up with an emotional and resonant hook, or chord progression. Unfortunately, however, there are only a few possible chord progressions. And you have to also exclude the chord progressions which are (currently) ineffective at communicating any sort of message.

Deep complexity is more difficult to achieve than surface complexity. And, ironically, deep complexity also goes by another name: "simplicity." Miles Davis required extreme simplicity of his band members. But really, his music is incredibly complex, because it inspires complex emotions and makes a complex musical statement.

Deep complexity is really the last frontier for musicians. It's difficult to achieve, and artists can be satisfied that they will have the opportunity to refine the required skills for the rest of their lives and beyond.

Hyper Crush's Crushstep

I've been listening to Hyper Crush's entire new album for free. Yes, you can do that. Legally. And it's amazing. By which I mean, brilliant. Let me focus on just one song: "Cheap Thrills."

This has all the hallmarks of great literature. It's philosophical and deep, dramatic, inspiring, creative, and entertaining. (And one more: it's addictive. I can't stop listening to it because it blows my mind so much.)

Let me break it down for you.

• Philosophical and deep. It's not just hedonism. It takes a philosophical / political stance. The hero of the song has money on his brain like the rich industrialists. But he still stays positive ("I've made it, yeah, I'm alright") even though overwhelmed by the suffering of the world. He talks of the seven billion people in the world, but (unfortunately) "All we tryin' to do is pop." He takes on a certain role ("I'm hot, I've gotta be") with reluctance, but only because he must to fulfill his face-melting obligations to his fans.
• Dramatic. It involves characters and conflicts. There are two main characters who have inner conflicts and intra- conflicts. The rapper has an inner conflict along the lines I've already described. The female character has an inner conflict too. She "can't even see straight, but I'm on my feet still." She's fighting to stay standing and party positive despite the pull of her inner demons. Also, there's a subtle conflicted relationship between the female and the male. The female is obviously partying (she keeps asking for drinks) and presumably, she's partying to the music performed by the male. She's feeding off of that music, which is an "angel" keeping them both afloat in this "evil world."
• Inspiring. Because the characters triumph over their conflicts, it's inspiring. "But wait," you might say, "They don't triumph. They're still fighting in the end." Yes. And I feel this borrowed trope from the Rave culture is even MORE inspiring. I mean, in literature of the past the heroes had some kind of "final" triumph which ultimately ends all conflicts. But that's not really the way real life works most of the time. In real life, instead of chasing that ultimate triumph, sometimes just the fact you're still standing at the end of the day (or night) is enough. And what makes Rave music so brilliant is that, unlike Rock concerts, it SUSTAINS the party into infinity until the heavens fall into the sea and that final triumph finally comes. In this song, and in real raves, the people are still standing, dancing, all through the life, into eternity. We never stop. We never surrender.
• Creative. To be creative, a song must be both novel and reinforcing. It must have new ideas, and reinforce already established ones. This song adds that novel Hyper Crush flair to an established pop genre: DubStep. (It's not DubStep: it's CrushStep!)
• Entertaining. It doesn't just long endlessly for the sunrise at the end of the night. It makes happiness concrete. This song is the shit. Period. That's what's entertaining about it. I can listen to it and not get lost in the pathos. It's brilliant. (Also the reason why I like Hyper Crush's remix of "Somebody That I Used to Know" by Gotye better than the original.)

There is nothing about this song I don't like. It's one of the most amazing songs I've heard. Listen. You won't be disappointed.

Madonna's New Album

I don't know what happened to Madonna. I was just listening to tracks off her new album MDNA (probably the coolest album name I've heard in a long time, by the way) and it strikes me that she just doesn't get it. She doesn't get Rave music. Or worse: she's just trying to capitalize off it without adding anything.

I mean, don't get me wrong. It's not bad music. I'd rather listen to it than a lot of music out there. But it's just not great. And what gets me is, Madonna used to be great. Her song "Material Girl" is one of my favorite songs of all time. "Vogue"—same thing: positive message, edgy, complex, confidence-building, interesting, entertaining, etc. And her album, Erotica, is not only brilliant music, but brilliant literature. It's great poetry that can stand up to just about anyone in the English literary canon. And I should know: I've studied the stuff seriously.

But MDNA is just not that great. Same thing with the past several of her albums. MDNA features a couple cameos from an artist I really respect: M.I.A. The cameos were stupid and vapid. So how come I still respect M.I.A. but not Madonna? Because M.I.A. makes sense to me. I understand her. She is one of the few pop artists out there who can legitimately say "I just want to put a cap in your ass and take your money." A lot of artists claim they come from the ghetto and are bad boys or bad girls. But M.I.A. came from an INDIAN ghetto. She was a war refugee. Her father was a Tamil Tiger. When M.I.A. does a stupid collaboration (and she does a lot of them) it's not because she's stupid. It's because she's a gangsta popping a cap in the ass of the music industry and taking their money. She's a musical warlord. She makes sense.

But I don't get Madonna. Maybe there's something I'm missing. I feel somewhere along the line she lost it somehow. And I wish she would just find a way to do the brilliant, amazing music that I know she can do. Whether it's because of greed, or if she's in a dark place right now, I don't know. But I don't understand. I wish she would just... come back.