It's not too late to email Sapphirecut and tell her/them that you hate her/their guts. In case you haven't been paying much attention, "Sapphirecut" is the name of the artist who complained to Soulseek's server host, which has led to the file sharing program's current downtime of about a week or so. So, please email-bomb the fuck out of her/them. What this attack will accomplish is that "Sapphirecut" will check her email and see dozens of hatemail, and maybe she will cry. It probably won't make much of a difference, but I'll be damned if it doesn't feel good to lash out personally at an opponent to online file sharing.
Here's Sapphirecut's website, which asserts that MP3 pirating is a threat to indie music and hinders the distribution of their music.
www.sapphirecut.com
And, lastly, "Sapphirecut" is apparently the moniker for a girl named Megan Taylor, so if you'd like to address her by her actual name in your emails of hate, it might not be a bad idea. In fact, making your subject line "I hate Megan Taylor" is probably not a bad idea at all.
Thanks to PFM if this is printed, and thanks to anyone who sends these pretentious, greedy fucks an email.
From:
Keith T
Subject: You Zwan Review, 1/31/03
Hi Ryan, while I love your website and reviews I felt I had to say
something
about this. I fully appreciate and expect differing opinions on
albums/bands/life but sometimes I hear/read something that force me to
discard my finely honed apathetic reticence. And this was it...
Ok Zwan, let's get one thing straight.
This is not the Smashing Pumpkins.
Sure, vestiges of the sound still linger but can that be
realistically avoided when you have two of the most distinctly
sounding players of their respective instruments (Jimmy n Billy) to
emerge in the past decade and a half? But I won't beleaguer this
point.
Instead I'll focus on the songs which you chose to dismiss as
mediocre and lacking in refined instrumentation from the
aforementioned individuals.
You're right in one point, no longer is Corgan the cenobyte that debuted
on
Saturday Night Live back in 1995 pummeling through the anthemic yet
arrogant
"Zero". Maybe it's the fact that through the dissolution of the Pumpkins,
he
has alleviated himself from the expectation of creating a sound able to
supercede their previous work. Maybe its the fact that for once he has
found
a group of musicians that can complement his sound (James and D'arcy, God
bless them but when's the last time you heard them sharing vocal duties on
a
chorus with Corgan?). Maybe its the fact that Corgan has grown out of the
ostracized, latently angry, high school goth kid persona who blamed
eveyone
else for his depressive state.
Ironically so considering the state of the country which is being led by a
trigger-happy Texan, which faces the threat of terrorization by faceless
foes and sits steeping in the throes of a silent recession.
For the first time and maybe appropriately so, Corgan could have used the
societal trump card to excuse the genesis of his doomsday, introverted,
power surges that dominate the Pumpkins' back catalogue. What do we find
instead?
An album full of skippy beats, shimmering guitars, harmonic cooing and
yea,
even a glint of optimism. Make no mistake, the bombastic guiitar sound
Corgan so brazenly brandished during the 90's is still here. But for once,
the man seems actually, well... happy. How else can tracks like "Yeah",
"Honestly", "Baby let's Rock" or "El Sol" be explained? Rather than having
the pressure to build art-rock pieces that justify their own existence,
Corgan seems perfectly content in constructing solid, amp driven power pop
that never comes off as treacly nor 'pop'-y.
Corgan has had his moments of catharsis and this is not one of them.
It's the sound of a man whose egomeniacal genius in the past succeeded at
winning him the critical accolade and fanfare capable of feeding such a
temperament despite all the while "type casting" himself as the
spokesperson
for depression, angst and longing.
He's shed that skin.
Back to the songs: the lack of 'hooks'.
Almost every track is based around a more than solid riff backed up by
complementing guitar work and superb vocalizing from the surprising Paz
(maybe she's just happy that she's found a band that will actually let her
sing once in a while). And if you thought "Jesus, I" was grating I wonder
what you thought of "The Areoplane Flies High...". This song
unquesitonably
solidifies Jimmy Chamberlin's status as drummer of the Gods pulling off
tempo changes and beats that kids using production software would have a
hard time recreating. And here more so than any other track on the album
do
we hear the contributions of Sweeny and Pajo: It's when the track first
comes out of the distorted woods and settles around a beautiful riff which
forms the basis for the next stage. It's the kind of sound that bands like
Trizteza, Mercury Program and dozens of others have built a career around,
here Zwan pull it off in less than a minute to a degree that needs no
further embellishment.
Honestly, I don't think Corgan longs for his days rocking Lollapalooza nor
wasting away in the studio placing explosion samples from video games into
his songs. He sounds perfectly content in his accomplishments and
enthusiatic about his new project. He doesn't expect critical acclaim or
a
platinum selling album; he's had that already.
He's gotten over the Smashing Pumpkins hangover; and so should everyone
else.
Sincerely,
Keith Teelucksingh
PS- Unless I have totally anatgonized you, I would totally like to write
for you guys sometime.
Pitchfork Review: Zwan: Mary, Star of the Sea
We love our neighbors to the north, really we do.
From:
Todd Leopold
Subject: Re: who you calling fat, you damn Canuck!
To Mr. Steenburg from Butt-Cold Canada,
Don't forget: we also stole Gretzky, the Nordiques, the Winny Jets, and
we will soon steal the Senators.
It's easy to provide national health care when there are only around 300
people living in your half-assed "country" that we fondly refer to as
"America Lite". Speaking of health care, you might want to get rid of
condoms for a few years so that you can actually PROCREATE. My neighbor
has
more people in his extended family than the entire "city" of Toronto has.
I guess that we can expect these kinds of sorry put-downs from a country
that was "founded" by the cheese-eating-surrender-monkeys otherwise known
as
the French.
And, of course, the reason that everyone likes you is that: A. If it
wasn't
for hockey and the Kids in the Hall, no one would have ever heard of you.
B. You actually need a brewery (Molson's I Am Canadian ads) to give
yourselves a national identity since no one knows the first thing about
your
country. God Damn, that's sad
Send our regards to Bonk, Havlat, and Alfredsson (from the bankrupt Ottawa
Sens), and tell them to make sure that their passports are valid, and
their
work visas in order---they're going to need them when they move here to
run
a real franchise (Read: socialism ain't working, you need a better
economic
system, you loser).
P.S. enjoy the Olympic Gold Medal for hockey, 'cause its the last thing
that
anyone expects your country to acheive for at least another decade.
Love,
An American who is funnier than you are
Pitchfork Mail: 02-05-03: Hey, who you calling fat, you damn Canuck!
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