Crib Notes

R. Timothy Brady is a soft-spoken young man whose immersion in the arts and sense of moral imperative has taken him on a mission to Iraq. Last Saturday, the composer/activist left Atlanta for Erbil, the capital of Iraq’s northern Kurdistan region, to establish an English-language academy where he will teach music, all under the auspices of the nonprofit Soulbird Inc., of which Brady is founder and executive director.

One minor problem: Performing music in Iraq can get you killed.

“It’s been reported that 80 percent of Iraqi singers have left the country, because now all artists are targeted by terrorists and extremists for torture and murder,” says Brady. “So what Soulbird is doing is opening an academy in the relatively safer Kurdistan region of Iraq, in the city of Erbil, to provide a place for artists from all over Iraq to develop and study their craft in a safe and welcoming environment.”

Continue reading “Soulbird hopes to build a safe nest for Iraqi artists”

(Photo Courtesy R. Timothy Brady)

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Georgia Tech’s eclectic radio station, 91.1 WREK-FM, will lose $30,000 of its annual operating budget due to a new deal struck by the school’s athletic department that switches airing of its men’s basketball and football games to 106.7 (WYAY-FM), according to an article in the school’s newspaper Technique.

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Ok, so if I remember correctly, in the late ’90s the biggest stars in America were an armada of Nordic Supersoldiers. Acts like 98°, Britney Spears, Jessica Simpson, ‘N Sync, Backstreet Boys and Christina Aguilera dominated the charts with their vacuous “teen” ballads.

Pop music was a future Stepford Wife proto-High School Musical prom afterparty. All the girls were sassy and all the boys had six packs. Then, 9/11 happened.

Americans suddenly thought (and quite reasonably) that we were finally the underdogs. The prosperity of the ’90s began to fade, setting a new precedent. In short, things got complicated.

Everyone still wanted to party, but pain was back. Sept. 11 gave us pain for months (years). As we got further away from that day, record companies needed to manufacture gravitas where there wasn’t any. I solemnly believe that besides the talent of artists like T.I., 50 Cent, Bruce Springsteen, Kanye West, Eminem and Arcade Fire, their greatest asset is their constant triumph over adversity.

Triumph is why superhero movie franchises have been so successful recently. A nerdy frail wimp transforms into a web-slinging smart ass who gets with Kirsten Dunst and saves all of New York City (Ground Zero, ding!). A corporate war profiteer escapes from a terrorist (Al Quaeda ding!) camp and defeats his own greed as well as the powerful traitors in his circle (the White House maybe?). We love to see people over come. Remember that song “We Shall Overcome?” That was a really big hit.

“I Put On”

Kanye West’s production catapulted Jay-Z into solidified classic status all while remaining in virtual anonymity. Next thing you know, he falls asleep at the wheel and gets in a nearly fatal car accident. Instead of wallowing in self pity he, 3H and Damon Dash turned his misfortune into the ultimate backstory for a man who was perhaps neither Gangster nor conscious enough to be understood by record execs. Starting with “Through the Wire,” Kanye built an entire career with two key foci: decadence and perpetual underdoggery. He’s made pop rap songs about vague everyday trials and tribulations (“All Falls Down”) and continuously assails his doubters to this day (“Can’t tell me Nothing”). Even though, no one really doubts him anymore, it is completely necessary for him to continue this fight against the now imaginary naysayer (remember that MTV Awards bullshit).

The most compelling development in Kanye’s trajectory is the tragic death of his mother. She was a victim of the mindless vanity and decadence embodied in many of his songs. I ponder how her death provided real life meaning to the vague conflicts in songs like “Stronger.” (more…)

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