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The Millenium My last day here for 10 days, if its not everyone's last day here forever. So I am excited and glad this whole millennial thing is finally coming to a head. I've been reading a lot of articles, and am now convinced that I am a candidate for a possible millennial anxiety disorder that doctors are actually diagnosing people with. Symptoms include an insatiable urge for up-to-the minute news updates, lack of sleep, psychosomatic symptoms of diseases commonly associated with bioterrorism and irritating your friends beyond what you had previously thought possible. Unfortunately, in a follow up article it seems that its these same people are at highest risk for spiraling into a post-millennial depression when they find that all of the stress was useless and nothing has changed after pouring all that energy into worrying. They will wake up, go to work, and think about everything they could have been doing to make their lives a bit more interesting while they, instead, opted to spend 7-10 hours per day playing indentured servant to MSNBC. So accept these as the ravings of one on the brink. The irony of it all is everywhere. A friend pointed two matters out while record shopping so I could contribute my little ditty about what was worth it this year and what wasn't. I figured since everybody and their brother seems to have put together some sort of list of best this and worst that, I should be able to as well…I digress… First the topic of New Years Plans, and friends who really want to go to Times Square and other such horrific places. On a mundane non-millennial year, that place is my worst nightmare so why would anyone want to go when there is an increased threat? The best answer offered by far is that Americans watch too many disaster movies. You know the type, the ones that have a large explosion scene on the video jacket at Blockbuster. Astoundingly, in almost every film in this genre, there is a potential apocalypse or the world finds itself amidst the disaster which has the potential to grow to epic proportions. Certain government officials step up and save the world, always in the nick of time, as the films protagonist pursues some sort of relationship. So we're lead to think that disasters happen, but the government will save us as we simultaneously fall in love with a celebrity or supermodel while defying death. So maybe people do it for the adventure of it all. Another observation made by the same individual on a topic where there is always humor, regardless of how bad a situation may be: tabloid exploitation. Oddly, these bastions of journalism have somehow figured out a way to run headlines that read “THE END OF THE WORLD” while, on the same page, direct us to where we can find our “year 2000 horoscopes.” Well, we may as well be looking our best and be dressed for success just in case we meet that 'special someone' in the event that we all make it through okay! But another sign of things gone awry hit this AM. George Harrison was stabbed (looks like he's going to be ok thankfully). Poor George. In my opinion he's always been on the short end of the Beatles stick. There was John the wild one, and Paul, the cute one, who together reaped most of the fame, and Ringo who is sort of the unattractive one with songs like…Yellow Submarine and the Octopus' Garden (need I say more) who was kind of the jester in the outfit. And then there was George. Forced to share Paul's mic for part of his career, writing good songs and getting less credit. He was sort of lanky and occasionally surly, and got a little wrapped up in the whole sitar/maharishi thing, but who, for the most part has lead a quiet and respectable life. It's really a shame. Anyway, back to the lists. Frankly, they're boring I don't want to make anyone read another. There are too many bests and worsts running around out there. And in all honestly I am not decisive enough, and my biases are too strong. But there have been some points that might be worth mentioning. 1999 saw rock stars hiring literary agents and nabbing book deals. Debatable? Yes. But it can go either way. Worst attempt at crossing the media line: Jewel. Please don't write another book of poetry. We've suffered enough. Best attempt: David Berman of the Silver Jews. His Actual Air is an intelligent collection of poetry, which probably has less to do with his musician status than it does his graduate degrees in creative writing. Regardless it contains some interesting thoughts on modern American life with a John Ashbery sort of edge. While on the topic of writing, there's always the touchy topic of “love songs,” most of which I can take or leave. Over and over this year I've read critics praising Pavements Stephen Malkmus for bearing more of himself and showing his optimism on the newest Terror Twilight record with songs like “Spit on a Stranger.” True, the lyrics on this record may be a little more emotional, but only when speaking of disappointment, and he's admitted to being “a little less guarded with the voice.” This mistaken display of optimism is probably Malkmus' best ironic twist yet. It's a comment on the things people say and don't mean in the nascent moments of a relationship; the half truths and white lies. It seems a lot of critics fell for it this year. If the breakup rumors are true, at least these guys will go out with their greatest prank yet. The guy who seemed to lose his ability to write the bitter relationship song this year…Mac McCaughan. He got married late this past summer. That could account for all the pleasantries on this years “Come Pick Me Up.” Its all happiness and pop on this one, and while its not the angry collection that earlier records were, he's no longer saving his better songs for his Portastatic records. I can't help but mention the guy who I think might be this year's crankiest artist. Hands down winner here is Stephin Merritt from the Magnetic Fields. Every interview I read with this guy he somehow manages to be darker and surlier. He bitches about everything from his band, which he continues to threaten to break up, to his label for not printing enough records. At this point, he should do it. Did we really need 69 love songs anyway? Some of my favorite performances of the year: Matador 10 year anniversary show, The Apples in Stereo (to the dismay of all those I dragged with me), Stereolab, Beulah, oh, and of course, Guttergirl in Boston! Among the more horrifying it's a definite toss up, somewhere between Calvin Johnson, US Maple and Glampire. Theres too many records to get into, on both sides of this topic… but I am always waiting for some thoughts. Just one more thing to mention. The years biggest disappearing act has to go to Richie Longstroke. Where the hell is he? With so many celebs that you wish would go away its always a tough blow to lose track of a man of such ill-repute…and I mean that in the best, most endearing way if you're out there. There's only one other playa who might have him rivaled in 2000: Beck, who made it in just under the wire with a new record. This little guy is the funkiest white man around, and can give Dick a run for his $$ any day. So that's about it. I'm not one for predictions so I've no 2000 projections for the offering. And if we're all still around in the new year, pimp3 will be here as well (that's assuming were y2k compliant), so come back. The mistress.