Dinosaur Jr. - Where You Been

            As a musician and a lover of music, it is truly a rare occurrence that any piece of music rubs me the wrong way. Whether I disagree with the sound or have a distaste for the writing, I almost always find some redeeming quality that brings me back. Thus, when I added Dinosaur Jr.’s Where You Been to my rotation, I opened my ears with all the objectivity that I feel is due every piece of music.

            I picked up this record purely on a whim and the faint impression that the opening track was a pretty good tune the last time I heard it. I knew very little about the band or the record, simply that it was part of the wave of alternative rock in the 90’s, which holds a very warm place in my heart. Thus, I felt that I was already predisposed to connect well with it. And I was very, very wrong.

            Initially, what is presented by Dinosaur Jr. is a good mix and lots of energy. They have a heavy and distorted sound, and all seem to wail on their instruments. Being that Where You Been is one of the few albums featuring the entire band’s participation in recording[1], the unity seems to have had a positive effect on the sound of the record. The musicianship is tight, and dotted with inspired fills, especially in Murph’s drumming. However, as one listens on, that tightness in the music is overshadowed by the obvious and overwhelming feebleness of the writing.

            The foremost weakness in the writing is the absolute lack of life or significance in the lyrics. Almost none of the songs have any coherent direction able to be communicated by the words. The lyrics seem a haphazard pile of phrases cluttered to fit a basic A-B-A-B rhyme scheme, purely filling the space of the vocal melody rather than attempting to connect with the listener. Furthermore, even the wording lacks inventiveness or interest. The opening lines of “Out There” communicate absolutely nothing: “I know your name/I know the people out there feel the same/I know you’re gone/I hope you got some friends to come along.”[2] Such irrelevance is portrayed by virtually every lyric on the record.

            This lack of enthusiasm for writing also seems to have seeped into the music, albeit on a smaller level. Many of the songs feature very basic and repetitive structure. While this normally wouldn’t matter, it becomes very obvious how much repetition is being used when every song is longer than four minutes. Each song begins to feel like two or three riffs being repeated into eternity, leaving the listener wondering if the CD is skipping. The only break to this monotony would be J Mascis’ guitar solos, which are powerful and yet also obscenely long, and so makes any attempt at improvisation seem muted.

            While the writing of the record is blatantly bad, it is a secondary concern when confronted with the vocal stylings of J Mascis. J’s guitar playing on the record is quite phenomenal, and it is obvious that he has earned his place behind the ax. However, he has absolutely no business behind the microphone. His singing style is one that features little to no vocal power, which truly drags the apparent energy of the musicianship down to the ground. His drawl, while certainly a signature, is sung at barely more than a whisper in many of the songs, drowning the lyrics in a crackling and whiny pond of voice. So weak are the vocals that J seems unable to even keep his voice in key most of the time. Furthermore, he also spends an inappropriate amount of time singing in a ridiculous falsetto—for instance, the entirety of “Not the Same”—which adds nothing but confusion to an already embarrassing listen.

            Despite being a house with a foundation built in quicksand, Where You Been does offer a few good tunes. “On the Way,” one of the few shorter songs on the record, features a fast and thrashing energy bordering on punk, as well as a more effective use of repetition in the structure. Topped with a catchy chorus and inventive fills on all instruments, it is a song that is more than listenable, indeed even recommendable. Another such song is “Start Choppin,” which reached #3 on the Modern Rock Tracks chart in the U.S. upon its release.[3] This song features some inventive arrangement along with rocking guitar riffs, providing a groove that the other songs apparently lack. Indeed, its endearing melody and feel even invite dancing, showing that apparently Dinosaur Jr. is capable of some good.

           Although a few gems are hidden on the record, as a whole, Where You Been holds very little merit as a collection of music. Between the flabby writing and the frail vocals, this record leaves much to be desired, and does not lend itself to multiple listens, nor a growth of interest in the artist. As this record approaches the twentieth anniversary of its release, it stands as a testament only to the detrimental effects poor writing can have on otherwise interesting musical pieces.

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[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Where_You_Been

[2] http://www.elyrics.net/read/d/dinosaur-jr-lyrics/out-there-lyrics.html

[3] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Where_You_Been#cite_ref-2

Song Spotlight: "Here and Now" by the Ernies

            I’ve never been much of a gamer, but one of the first I ever played was Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater, whose incredible soundtrack truly began my love affair with music. That game was pivotal in giving me my first exposure to the genres of ska and punk, which have been pivotal in formulating my style of bass-playing. This game, besides being a ton of fun, invited me into a world inhabited by fast guitar riffs, pounding drums, and lilting horn melodies, all of which I would soon come to adore.

            THPS was my maiden voyage into music, and through it, I met the energetic honesty of the Suicide Machines, the sardonic and sarcastic stylings of the Dead Kennedys, and the thrashing fervor of Suicidal Tendencies. Perhaps most importantly, this game provoked my since undying love for Goldfinger, my favorite artist. Recently, I decided to delve back into that well of youth, and found myself re-exploring the tracks of this iconic soundtrack. During this process, I encountered one song that in years passed I had somewhat overlooked, but now, I find myself entranced by: “Here and Now” by the Ernies.

            This song rocks from the moment it opens with an immediately-in-your-face guitar riff. Turntables build to the drop of the beat, by which time the listener is grooving in his seat. That groove only intensifies as the song reaches the verse and the intense vocals take control. Will Hummel practically raps through his sturdy melody, pulling the listener into the simple yet elegant chorus that is full of soul. However, perhaps the most interesting moment is the bridge, which features a sudden and unexpected visit from a horn section as it blasts through a melody perfectly complementing the still-grooving guitar riffs and steady drumbeats.

            The brilliance of this song was never apparent to me before the whim to revisit my youth overtook me. Indeed, I remember only that I liked it as a kid, but never truly loved it. Yet now, I find it to be one of those songs that I cannot stop listening to, especially due to the fact that the horn section in this song was something that I never noticed as a child. Now, as a fan of ska and everything entailed in that sound, I was pleasantly surprised to hear those saxophones take control of what I thought was a straight alternative rock song. I was further surprised and delighted to later uncover that the Ernies always presented a ska-punk element in their music—indeed, their second record, Dropping Science, features a cover of the Operation Ivy staple “Sound System.”[1] However, they never let the label of “ska” dominate them, instead branching into all styles so as to present a unique and interesting sound[2], one that is especially apparent in this track.

            “Here and Now” by the Ernies had been a familiar acquaintance in my youth, and as I return to it, a little more seasoned, I find myself able to reconnect with it as I would an old friend. It echoes memories of my childhood while creating new connections with me as an adult, inviting me to continue exploring and enjoying the Ernies’ catalog. Such strength in a song shows that it will stand tall even as the years continue to pile upon us both.

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[1] http://lyrics.wikia.com/The_Ernies:Sound_System

[2] http://www.styleweekly.com/richmond/the-ernies-at-the-camel/Content?oid=1803312

Death From Above 1979 - Heads Up!

            Death From Above 1979 is a band that takes the bare minimum and turns out extraordinarily interesting and remarkable creations, and Heads Up! is no disappointment. From two men and their instruments comes an incredible and unique sound, frenzied and relevant. Their songs and style are not complex, composed mostly of thrashing bass riffs, pummeling drums, and heady melodies, yet in their expression and delivery, the six songs that compose this EP come to mean everything.

            DFA’s unique sound and style are epitomized in this EP. The fact that they have removed such a standard instrument as the guitar out of their mix, and yet are still able to maintain and consistently kill an energetic punk sound is simply incredible. Jesse Keeler creates rhythm and melody simultaneously with his bass, fully invalidating any arguments that their low-end-driven sound is missing something. Indeed, the little guitar moments wedged between songs on Heads Up! Seem almost to be pittances, mocking little scraps thrown to the standard rock sound.

            Every second of the fifteen minutes of music on this EP is brimming with energy and exuberance. Jesse and Sebastien seem to have compressed their entire metabolisms into this record, leaving nothing unsaid or unfelt by the listener. Each song is fast, catchy, and danceable, and yet chaotic in the distorted and crashing clamor that defines this band’s trademark. The vigor inherent in the music of this EP is so strong and apparent that one might mistake this for a collection of live recordings. Indeed, the parenthetical at the tail end of the title of the third track, “Do It! (Live),” seems misleading, since it sounds just as “live” as the rest of the record. The ferocity and honesty of these recordings is incredibly truthful in its energy, making Heads Up! a debut that completely captures and expresses the truth of Death From Above 1979.

            Both musically and lyrically, this record is relatively simple—yet such simplicity goes a long way. The music is straightforward in its presentation because it is straightforward in its purpose: it makes the listener dance. Sebastien’s drum beats create a pounding rhythm that constantly invites participation from the listener. In fact, many of the songs feature the sound of someone clapping along with the rhythm, which is no doubt what happens when DFA 1979 plays these songs live. This minimalism is further personified with great effect in the lyrics, which are more often than not straightforward statements or questions. In “Dead Womb,” Sebastien very blatantly rails against the party-girl image so many women portray with the words “We’re looking for wives/So tired of sluts/Coming to us in the clubs with their cocaine.”[1] In “Losing Friends,” words are not wasted as the same accusation is spoken against men: “You’re not grown men/You’re just kids playing.”[2] The lyrics of this record are presented without pomp or fanfare, acting as austere statements of truth. Fused with Sebastien’s passionate and catchy vocal melodies, these poignant and honest lyrics become anthem-like.

            Although the writing exhibited on Heads Up! is rather unadorned, it never leaves the listener bored or restless. Death From Above provides a very unique sound on their EP, and this individuality is reflected in the structure of their songs. For the most part, DFA 1979 avoids the standard “verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge/solo-verse-chorus” formula in the six songs that make up this record. While the songs do generally repeated sections, their arrangement in each song is different, avoiding the standard structure of most songs and therefore affirming that Heads Up! is anything but standard.

            The innate and unabashed honesty of this EP is something that really drew me into it, and that beckons me to return to it so often. Every song churns so wildly and artistically that it can’t be anything but a true expression of the artist that is Death From Above 1979. The band is very aware of their identity and what they want from their music, and in fifteen minutes they give the listener nothing but a pure draught of themselves. In the words of Jesse, “We’re just making music and you happen to like it.”[3] This truthfulness of expression that the music on Heads Up! undoubtedly bleeds only sharpens this already intense listening experience.

            As it stands, this EP leaves a monster impression upon the listener without even trying, a statement from a band rejecting fanfare or flamboyance in order to do exactly what it wants. Death From Above 1979 smashes their instruments to pieces in every song, not to astonish or impress, but simply because it is what they do. The music is easily appreciated by both body and mind, being danceable and listenable without exception. With Heads Up!, Death From Above 1979 picks you up off your feet and launches you into the heights. How you make it back down is up to you.

Tunes to Check Out:
1) Dead Womb
2) Do It! (Live)
3) Too Much Love

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[1] http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/deathfromabove1979/deadwomb.html

[2] http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/deathfromabove1979/losingfriends.html

[3] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YovksGrLat8

Smashing Pumpkins - Oceania

Oceania is a record that in many ways redefines the idea of Smashing Pumpkins. Like the protagonist Winston Smith of the novel 1984 (which the title of the record alludes to), whose job is to edit historical texts as the government sees fit, Oceania takes what the world previously expected of the act known as Smashing Pumpkins and rewrites it in a more contemporary light.

This record is one that invites mixed feelings from me, especially considering my die-hard fandom of this band. Oceania provides where it needs to the crunching rock tunes, while also exposing a vulnerability not usually felt in a band headed by an established musical creator such as Billy Corgan. It is full of songs both powerful and gentle, but the distribution of those songs does more to hinder the energy of the record as a whole than to accent it. There seems a constant catch-and-release of the vigor inherent in the music, making it a record that’s a little hard to get into. Yet, sincerity and strength are constantly delivered, always with an original flavor.

While I would normally try and avoid making comparisons between a record and the artist’s other work, I think it important to note that Oceania truly sounds like nothing else the Smashing Pumpkins have done before. While songs like “Quasar” and “Inkless” do have a feel reminiscent of Siamese Dream, the fact that this record is not only full of extensive keyboard parts, but in fact relies on them, lends it a texture of originality. In an interview with NME, Billy Corgan remarks that Oceania “is the first time where you actually hear me escape the old band. I’m not reacting against it or for it or in the shadow of it.”[1] This escape is clearly evident in both the composition and the sound of the record. The bleepy-bloopy synths in songs like “Pinwheels” and “One Diamond, One Heart” are absolutely necessary in that they create the crux of the song to which the other instruments react. Such keyboard-centric writing in a band that does not have a resident keys player denotes a fresh take on a band that has again become fresh both in personnel and creativity.

This originality is most powerfully expressed in the song “Glissandra,” my favorite off of Oceania. This song is full of both movement and emotion from its first note, as both vocals and instruments exude a melancholy aura that is easily relatable. The writing and instrumentation of “Glissandra” capture the essential image of Smashing Pumpkins, yet it retains and even announces its youth and innovation by providing syncopated riffs and a subdued spotlight on the synth, the signature of the sound that this record is expressing. Lyrically, it is one of the most poetic pieces, filled with turns of phrase and capped with the catchy hook of “I used to know.” Putting all intricacies dripping from this song aside, it simply grooves like no other tune on the record.

While the synth-heavy sound of the record certainly provides a unique feel, it also seems to have affected the writing in a negative fashion. The keys may fill out the song musically, but they leave much to be desired creatively. When the keyboards are center stage, the guitar is buried, if it is to be heard at all. Furthermore, “One Diamond, One Heart” and “Wildflower,” two songs that showcase the synth as the main instrument, I find almost unbearable to listen to, because they rely so heavily on one instrument that the others are virtually if not completely deleted. The synths seem cute at first, but ultimately, at least in the case of these two songs, leave the listener utterly bored.

Unfortunately, this apparent albeit infrequent weakness in the writing is not contained to just the instrumentation. The vocal melodies on the record are inconsistent in the ways they shine. For the most part, Billy’s vocals are soulful and truthful, and his lyrics dance fluidly, wanting not for depth in meaning or musicality. Songs like “The Chimera” feature Billy singing in an energetic and impassioned fashion, truly filling out the song. Yet, in other places, Billy’s melodies, along with the lyrics shaped upon them, seem frail or forced. The lyrics of “The Celestials,” the first single off of Oceania, seem as passionate and meaningful as the list of ingredients on a shampoo bottle.

Although such complaints can sometimes hold a record back, ultimately they take nothing away from the integrity of the music. Both Billy Corgan and Jeff Schroeder tear apart their guitars in wailing riffs adorning the solid yet beautifully ornamented foundation of Nicole Fiorentino’s basslines. Yet the drums seem to steal the show, with Mike Byrne’s youthful and spastic percussion sounding always like his kit is about to be broken by the sheer force of his drumming. Indeed, Byrne’s pounding percussion in “Panopticon” was singled out by Spin Magazine[2] in its review of the album. Truly, any holes in the hull of Oceania are easily patched with the chemistry of soulful musicianship displayed by this quartet.

Ultimately, Oceania is a record that was destined to be judged from its conception. Yet it enters the room, arms spread wide, fearless and honest in its presentation. It has songs I will skip over, but also songs that I crave to hear again and again, all of which stand as testament to the humanity of this new take on an old name.

Tunes to Check Out:
1) Glissandra
2) The Chimera
3) Quasar 

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[1] http://www.nme.com/news/smashing-pumpkins/61043

[2] http://www.spin.com/reviews/smashing-pumpkins-oceania-marthas-musicemi?utm_source=spintwitter&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=spintwitter

The Contortionist - Exoplanet

            To someone who is not a musician, this record has a good chance of sounding like a mouthful of soulless terror. From beginning to end, the listener’s ears are stuffed with guttural screams, heavily distorted guitars, and rhythms that are almost impossible to dance to. However, such intensity is something that any worthwhile band (especially one delving into genres such as mathcore or death metal) must provide, and with Exoplanet, The Contortionist certainly delivers.

            Listening to Exoplanet is similar to listening to the rants of a mad scientist. The record is equal parts creativity and obsession, yet that creativity reflects both beauty and insanity, the obsession both harmony and cold savagery. For the most part, the sound can only be described as brutal, as the band shreds and chugs its way through low-tuned atrocities without relent. But counteracting this darkness is a catalog of fusion-jazz guitar riffs, clean vocal melodies, and beautifully structured sections of song, reflecting the wide range of musical influences cited by the band, a list including Porcupine Tree and Between the Buried & Me[i]. Such interposition of heavy and light allow for the songs to be very engaging without sacrificing any of the hard edges demanded by the style.

            One such example can be seen in the second song on the album. “Flourish” opens with exactly that, sweeping guitars and a 9/8 time-signature, before descending into an increasingly intense section of music. The song convinces you that it is another back-breakingly heavy artifice of pure metal, and then breaks off into an incredibly melodic and gentle bridge section. The music moves from cold to compassionate, carrying the listener on a lilting guitar melody, before inviting them back into the pit with a rephrasing of the song’s opening riffs. The seamless alternation of dynamics and energies in “Flourish” showcases this band’s ability to deftly switch between musical styles, making for a composition that is both aesthetically and intellectually pleasing.

            Exoplanet appears to be a thematic record, a chronicle divulged through music. This idea is expressed both lyrically and musically. Melodies and chord progressions are presented and then revisited repeatedly throughout the record. This is done no more beautifully than in the songs “Contact” and “Axiom.” In “Contact,” we are presented with an endearing moment of music in which soaring guitars playing in a 5/4 time signature are placed flush against a 4/4 drum beat. This same riff is then re-imagined through acoustic guitars and piano in “Axiom,” the pounding drums replaced by a tambourine, expressing a malleability of music that many artists find hard to explore.

            Musically, this record is as detailed as a Renaissance sculpture. Every single note seems to have been meticulously placed in flawless (although often dissonant) harmony with every other note, and the sheer amount of time-signature changes alone suggests that this band has put an immense amount of time into authoring their music. The Contortionist leaves absolutely no room for error in any of their compositions, showing that they are a band whose intention and execution are perfectly on par, and giving the listener a truly deep musical experience. However, it is also important to note that such musical technicality is a factor much more easily appreciated by musicians than non-musicians—the intensity of structure and atonality in songs like “Advent” and “Exoplanet II: Void” can just as much serve to alienate listeners as to draw them in.

            While this record is full of true and unique musical experiences, it also regrettably ends up encountering some the predictable pitfalls inherent in the genre. The level of technicality and precision in the writing on the record is of such magnitude that it can seem robotic: all intellect and no soul, and so fabricated that there is no room for the band’s humanity to shine through. Furthermore, much of the beauty of the writing is buried by the demands of the genre. For instance, the lyrics of the record are as well-crafted as the music, a narrative communicated through poetry, infused with existential and exotic themes ( “Contact” acts as a transcript of transmissions between two parties[ii]). However, because the style of music compels the screaming of most of these lyrics, invariably these words and all their meaning are completely overlooked. Such heavy vocals, while making a superb match to the brutal energy of the instrumentation, delete the emotion that might otherwise be imparted by intelligible lyrics or a sung melody.

            Ultimately, Exoplanet is a record built of relentless and exhaustive effort, and no one can say that The Contortionist has given anything less. It is an example of a group knowing exactly how it wants to sound, and relentlessly pursuing that idea. It bleeds power and cunning, standing as a monument to controlled chaos. The members of The Contortionist presents us with the simple and brutal truth of themselves, and if you can dig that, you risk nothing in giving them a listen.

Tunes to Check Out:
1) Flourish
2) Exoplanet I: Light
3) Contact

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[i] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TptGuqF7fGM

[ii] http://www.darklyrics.com/lyrics/thecontortionist/exoplanet.html#1

Cloud Nothings - Attack on Memory

This record gave me my first impression of Cloud Nothings, an impression that many people would argue is either false or weak. But I am not here to judge a band by how they used to sound, only to analyze how this record stands as a collection of music, and for me, Attack on Memory stands pretty strongly.

While short, this record holds a remarkable amount of punch. Each of the eight songs carries itself with such reckless confidence that it gives the impression that Cloud Nothings is playing a 45-minute set in your backseat. The distinct live-sound of the record, which can be partially attributed to producer Steve Albini[1], allows for the listener to truly experience the movements of the songs, in the same way an audience member does at a live show. The overall sound of the record is raw and real, exposing every flaw and virtue inherent in the music to the listener, allowing judgment without fearing it.

The honest feel of the record is something that makes it all the more endearing. Nothing is buried; the songs present themselves brutally and genuinely. There is no pretense in the sound, a fact strengthened by the album’s very live feel. Jayson Gerycz beats his drum kit relentlessly, the rest of the band matching his merciless level of attack. Every song shows the band giving one hundred percent in their performance, leaving nothing in reserve. Such makes for music that is most truthful, my friends.

The youthful honesty spilling out of Cloud Nothings’ instruments is also imbued into the lyrics. The record presents a few major themes for consideration, the most prominent of which is aimlessness. Dylan Baldi’s simple yet solid lyrics suggest a disconnection from past, present and future. There is nothing to look forward to, no reason to look back, and yet the now seems just as unfulfilling. His catchy and bold statement, “I thought I would be more than this,” the chorus of “Wasted Days,” is an anthem on the tongues of so much of America’s youth, displaced in dead-end jobs while their dreams gather dust on the shelves. The apathy implied in songs like “Fall In” or “Stay Useless” portray disaffected narrators mucking about in an impotent present.

While the record presents the listener with some damn good music, it does have its weaknesses. The sound of the record benefits from the minimal production, but the songs themselves seem a bit unexplored musically. Many of the songs follow a “verse-chorus-verse” pattern in which each part is played in an identical fashion throughout. There is a lack of unique musical moments in the songs, such as exotic drum or guitar fills, a fact which, while reflecting the honesty of the writing, can lend to a monotonous feel in some places. The songs feel like they require just a bit more refining and tweaking, the only things holding them back from being monstrous musical pieces.

Despite such complaints, Attack on Memory provides an exhilarating listening experience. A few songs in particular I found myself really digging, the first of which is “No Future/No Past,” the opening track and first single of the album, which was named “Best New Song” by Pitchfork Media.[2] From the very beginning, the song exudes an atmosphere of confusion and apathy. Instruments seem to come in at odd times, denying the listener the common courtesy of a downbeat as a reference point. Starting quietly, the band trudges through a simple, pounding riff, while Dylan’s voice drones through a depressing mantra headed by the phrase “Give up.” The repetitive lyrics and riff build from apathy to angst, until finally there is a breaking point. The band explodes into the second part of the song as if fed up with the first part, and Dylan’s murmurs become screams torn from his throat. This fit of frustration resolves without a resolve at all, as the guitars hammer a dissonant chord before abruptly ending. This song’s blatant disregard for such musical standard practices, mixed with its non-formulaic shape, make “No Future/No Past” a heady and fierce listen.

Perhaps one of the best songs on the record is the one that convinced me to buy an entire album of music I’d never heard: “Stay Useless” (also named “Best New Song”[3]). My very first exposure to Cloud Nothings was a twenty-second live clip of this song on MTV, where I was immediately ensnared by the song’s energy and extremely-catchy chorus melody. That song stayed lodged in my head for a month, and its merit alone prompted me to purchase this record. Unlike “No Future/No Past,” “Stay Useless,” the second single off of Attack on Memory, is upbeat, even optimistic. It relies on a more orthodox song shape, and holds the most catchy and danceable chorus on the record. The song constantly alternates between loud thrashing and soft strumming, all supporting a most pop-centric and delicious melody. Unlike the songs surrounding it on the record, “Stay Useless” is neither a complaint nor lament, seeming more like a musical celebration, the wishing off an eyelash for a little more time, a little more motivation, a little more purpose. Yet, while the lyrics seem listless and indifferent, the music that surrounds them completely waylays the lack of sentiment with the most passionate and meaningful sounds on the record.

Whether or not you can dig the lo-fi pop-punk sound, what Cloud Nothings present here is very real: four musicians being wholly truthful in their music, in a time when much of the meaning in music is fabricated, whether by artist, fans, or executives. Attack on Memory is a sincere record, full of straightforward angst and powerful musicianship. It lays out in raw honesty a youthful truth for anyone who cares to open their ears to it, with an energy level rarely experienced outside of a live show. Yet perhaps the greatest truth inherent in this record is that it is simply fun to listen to.

Tunes To Check Out:

1) Stay Useless

2) No Future/No Past

3) Fall In

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[1] http://www.spin.com/articles/breaking-out-cloud-nothings

[2] http://pitchfork.com/reviews/tracks/12707-no-futureno-past/?utm_campaign=search&utm_medium=site&utm_source=search-ac

[3] http://pitchfork.com/reviews/tracks/12873-stay-useless/