Headline Roundup

If "Sworn Virgins" isn't the title of a Lifetime Television movie -- starring Jennifer Love Hewitt as a headstrong Albain youth who vows to carry on her dead father's farming legacy -- within the next 3 years, I owe you a Coke.


This headline would have been a lot cooler if it referred to living creatures rather than carcasses: "Headless walruses alarm Alaska officials"


The Violent Femme's bassist is suing its lead singer for, among other things, licensing "Blister in the Sun" for Wendy's commercials.

The Wendy's deal was a buzz-kill for the band's fan base, the suit says, causing one fan to comment in an online blog that after hearing "Blister in the Sun" in a commercial, "My ears perked up. Then my jaw dropped. Then my heart sank."

(What KILLS me about these type of complaints is that fans are MAD when they hear a song they LIKE during a commercial. Would you rather hear a few bars of "Blister in the Sun", or be subjected to a terrible pop song? Or a terrible jingle? Listen to our local fast food chain's song about french toast sticks (scroll to the bottom to find "I love french toast" and click the "play" icon), and then decide if you'd prefer it to '90s alt rock.)

I was in Heather's Minneapolis apartment when I first witnessed that round of Wendy's advertising. Her friend Laura spent the rest of the night making shocking comments whenever the commercial would repeat. "I guess the Violent Femmes finally sold out," she'd repeat to anyone who would listen.

That was an eventful evening for amateur critics, who also complained when Win Butler smashed his acoustic guitar at the conclusion of Arcade Fire's SNL performance of "Keep the Car Running".

(It was also an eventful evening for lovers of chili and snow. Guests ate three different varieties of one, and were blanketed with 17 inches of the other -- I'll let you guess which.)

Let's be clear: neither the Violent Femmes nor Arcade Fire owe you anything. They can behave however they would like. If Win would like to destroy his guitar on live television, he's entitled. You buy it, you can break it. What's more, when he does so, his actions do not need to be interpreted as a "statement". Maybe you're a poser and maybe you're a hero, or maybe you're just a guy that felt like he could slam a piece of wood into the floor without setting off an international incident.

Similarly, if the Violent Femmes decide to sell a song to Wendy's, they are entitled, and they should not be called "sellouts" as a result. In 2007, long after their popularity and productivity have peaked, when old and new fans alike are more likely to steal their music from the internet than buy one of their albums, the Femmes still need (or want) to make some money. To do so, they did not go on camera and say, "Hi. This is Gordon from the revered band of your youth, the Violent Femmes. Let's talk about french fries: for my money, there's none better than those made by the good people at Wendy's, the fast food chain established in 1969 by an orphan. You can 'Add It Up': Wendy's fries are a great value, and a super treat!" They didn't change their band name to "Violent Frostys" or tour in a bus with "Wendy's Spicy Chicken Sandwich Presents: The Violent Femmes" plastered along its side. Instead, they allowed their hit song to be played in the background of a commercial.

If "selling out" truly exists*, one needs to look elsewhere for a good example.



*For an excellent and EXTENSIVE essay on this topic -- my opinion by way of Dave Eggers -- visit this site and scroll down to the addendum. Read everything after this paragraph:

I bought R.E.M.'s first EP, Chronic Town, when it came out and thought I had found God. I loved Murmur, Reckoning, but then watched, with greater and greater dismay, as this obscure little band's audience grew, grew beyond obsessed people like myself, grew to encompass casual fans, people who had heard a song on the radio and picked up Green and listened for the hits. Old people liked them, and stupid people, and my moron neighbor who had sex with truck drivers. I wanted these phony R.E.M.-lovers dead.

You may as well go read it all, because I won't be posting anything until Monday or so. Much love.