Player Piano: A good, old-fashioned Dystopic comedy

The first thing I ever read by Vonnegut was Breakfast of Champions, which I read last year. By then, he had constructed a layered universe whose rabbit hole split into different stories which sometimes spilled into one another.

*as always, SPOILERS!*

  Player Piano, Vonnegut's first novel, predates the universe, and takes place in an alternate version of the 70s or 80s, as someone in the 1950s imagines it. Far enough in the future that it's difficult to foresee, but not so far that no one in the story remembers the present day. In his pessimistic (dystopic, really) vision of this unspecified time in America's future, machines have taken up all manual labor--and more--from humans, leaving the most high-level jobs for the highly intelligent; specifically, managers and engineers, who are put on a pedestal in this American society. For those who don't make the elite, there is only the Reconstruction and Reclamation Corps (nicknamed the "reeks and wrecks") or the army. 

The protagonist is Dr. Paul Proteus, the son of one of the most successful engineers in recent history, and who had once held the highest level in the land (not the presidency--that at this point is a figurehead position). Like all dystopian protagonists, Paul is unhappy, but can't figure out why, until his old friend Ed Finnerty shows up and exposes him to discontented thinking. Proteus' gradual breakaway from his comfortable life at Ilium Works--and eventual revolution--is broken up by snippets of an Arab tourist and the man who shows him around, uncovering stories of other discontented people they meet on their tour. In the end, the revolution fails, and Paul and his co-horts turn themselves in.

  Player Piano is suspenseful, fast-paced, and bitingly humorous, characteristic of many of his novels. I didn't want to stop reading--though I did for other reasons. The fiction he presents us bears an eerie resemblance to today's reality (machines do more than they did 60 years ago; in fact we rely a ton on machines today--though of the digital variety; Vonnegut's machines are more analog) showing how technology transforms society. More people are unable to find jobs in the private sector, since machines do the job they would have had; therefore, the government gives them jobs and keeps them comfortable (with pension, health care, and even pre-bought furniture) to forestall a revolution.

 What is in place is far from the American Dream; instead, the class system is upheld by intelligence aptitude tests; those who don't pass remain in their class. Paul, as the son of a successful engineer, was set from the start. The biggest thing Player Piano didn't take into account was the advancement of women and minorities--their representations in the novel (as housewives and secretaries and simple-minded and invisible) are strictly retro. So today's world is a bit more complicated. Our new service economy favors what is now known as "women's work." Universal Health Care is a good thing. We have a black president. We're afraid of Muslims. But of course it's fiction, not meant to be a prediction.

  Player Piano is a classically dystopian tale,though a lot funnier than your average read. It gets you thinking about men and machines, and whether all progress--especially mechanization and digitalization--is completely a good thing. We lose contact with other human beings, with the earth from which all life comes--can we regain these connections, or is the damage done? Vonnegut's answer, like many dark comedies, is not a hopeful one. I rate 4/5 because of the cartoonish depictions of women and minorities and the trivialization of American Indians (i.e., blatant racism and sexism). Note that I am giving the novel a high rating, however--I am not super-offended (and it was a different time, after all: one can hardly expect a white dude over 25 to be progressive in the 50s).

Album Review: Scurrilous by Protest the Hero

This is my first crack at a music review, so we'll see how this goes... Disclaimer: as much as I would love it, I'm not a musician (nor can I play an instrument, other than my voice--it counts!!!--though I'm sure I could learn if I tried and had the time/energy) so I'm not going into music-y jargon, since I'm only somewhat familiar with it. Scurrilous, the latest record from proggy metal Canadians Protest the Hero, came out in March this year, so it's not super-new. But I wanted to choose something by an established band that came out this year...and as far as recent music goes I've mostly been listening to relative unknowns for the most part this year, so it's one of the only albums that came out in the past six months that I've listened to a few times. Of course, I'll show the unknowns some love later on...I just need to get a feel for this.

Anyway, the opening anthem, "C'est La Vie," is a frenetic, campy, dance up and down the musical ladder, setting the perfect scene for the tone of the rest of the album. I think that one may just be my favorite, though "Tandem," "Dunsel," "Termites," and campy "Sex Tapes" also exemplify the best of Protest the Hero. The rest of the album flows in much the same vein, a fast-paced journey along the frets of the bassist and guitarist. at moments, the bass, often buried beneath the combined melodies of the two guitars, rises to the top of the track with a frenetic slap rhythm. Rody Walker's vocals often stride the line between clean and screams, matching the smooth/grating sliding scale on the accompanying guitarists Tim Millar and Luke Hoskin's riffs. The 80s-hairmetal vocal flourishes that made Fortress's "Sequoia Throne" stand out from more typical breakdown-heavy metalcore that's sprung like daisies in the past five years or so add an even more flavorful layer to Scurrilous than in their debut. While the guitars are solid and often command more attention than the vocalist, like in many metal bands, they don't spill into sprawling solos that some prog bands often do. Scurrilous's often campy lyrics and vocal style, in addition to the fast pacing of the instrumentals, can invoke the cartoonish, and may be suitable for proggers with shorter attention spans. Prog metal for the internet age! like the guitars up and down the frets, Walker's vocals slide back and forth from the smooth clean singing to the more grating screams, with varying degrees in between. Walker's lyrics also help set the band apart, with such comical verses as the following from "Sex Tapes": "The Jonas generation's got rings wrapped 'round their dicks/The whole world waits with patience for one of them boys to slip" In addition to the clever use of rhyme, the lyrics have come comedy aspect to them, making the music more fun than a bummer (but still awesome) and the vocals create the over-the-top theatricality of the lyrical themes. I daresay it's poetic. The best songs, though, slow down and take a breath. Perhaps because I like the occasional clean vocals in heavy music, but when Walker breaks into full-on melodies and the rhythm slows down, I'm ready to sing myself. There are many hallmark signs that a musician has effectively engaged the listener: headbanging, toe-tapping, air-guitaring or -drumming, lip-syncing, or (in certain circumstances) singing or dancing. Protest the Hero makes me want to do all of these things. Their riffs and refrains are catchy as fuck. There is no question that these guys know their shit: the guitars are so fast I imagine that it would be difficult for an amateur to keep up with them. In another comparison to Fortress, Scurrilous sounds better produced and mixed, lending to a higher-quality, better-blended sound (or maybe it was just my shitty copy of Fortress). Because nothing's perfect (example: the guitars can overwhelm the other musical contributors), I give it a nine out of 10 stars: their best album yet.