I am, let’s face it, a bit too well-hydrated to pretend any semblance of rhetorical structure. So let’s just do this in context-free bullet point format, like the rest of our society:

• Indie rock beards: done. If I, on the cusp of my fourth decade, can see this, then surely the matter was actually settled in some Pitchfork staff listserv months ago. Capps has already accidentally stumbled into the vanguard. And now, in the blinding, beard-free light of day, it’s obvious that this was just a conceptual hangover from the Year of Earnest Music Composed in Cabins. But now it’s finished, and those of us with beard disabilities can rejoice. Temporarily, anyway — for razors cost money, and the unhygienic laziness of musicians is not to be underestimated.
• Harlem Shakes played a largely acoustic set, and mentioned offhandedly that they’d “lost” some equipment, conveying the impression that as consummate professionals they had recovered from larcenous adversity by composing off-the-cuff acoustic arrangements. The rock flute was deployed! And then the rock sax! And then the last two songs suddenly featured a drum kit and bass and electric six string, so, um, what?
• They’re doomed anyway. Harlem Shakes is a very good band, but their timing is all wrong. If they were eighteen months out from the last time David Byrne or Clap Your Hands did something? Sure, everyone would recognize that these guys are excellent musicians who make inspiring music. But they aren’t, so they won’t. Amanda and Catherine are probably right that the next album will settle things, but at the moment, critics’ self-satisfaction at their ability to name the group’s influences is dooming the band.
• We — you and I — are never going to escape this musical moment. These fucking synths — these goddamn waxy, Miami-fucking-Vice synths… Stick them alongside modern percussive artillery and our entire generation (+/-1) is powerless to resist. MGMT, Justice, Phoenix — all are trading on this unfortunate artifact of our upbringing. No doubt it will repeat, too, as the tautologically corny soundtracks of future generations’ childhoods are resuscitated by the bass-heavy trend of the moment, and that same stupid retro timbre will spawn era after era of not-quite-dance tracks waiting to be remixed into club smashes. There’s no question that Passion Pit is writing itself into this history. But they do, occasionally, lean over the edge of it. And maybe I’m just a sucker for this — actually, I know I’m a sucker for this, for any hint of rock and roll catharsis, for just the sound of human voices reaching — but yeah, Passion Pit are capable of pushing beyond the easy rut they’ve inherited. They didn’t care to do it often enough to make me stay for the encore, though.

But still: I enjoyed the show. Maybe I’m just getting old; these days it just needs to be loud, the people on stage just need to be feeling something. That’s all it takes. Let’s hear it for making a terrific racket.

Yesterday Apple announced a shiny new version of its signature mobile device. This prompted considerable acclaim. However, within hours of the announcement, new revelations emerged. It became known that — presumably due to the malign influence of AT&T (a company that, unlike Apple, is capable of wrongdoing) — the new iPhone would be sold under a nefarious scheme specifically constructed to line the pockets of those peddling it at a rate brazenly designed to cover the cost of each unit’s production — and even more, if you can believe it!

As you might imagine, this has prompted considerable outrage, which has in turn spurred real grassroots action. And even if those online petitions and Twitter accounts somehow fail to force AT&T to start buying Americans free electronics, surely the tide will be turned by thoughtful essays like this one, in which the author explains why it’s vitally important that companies do everything they can to accommodate the customers whose fanaticism renders them price insensitive and/or whose contractual commitment has already been secured.

Seriously, though: at $99 they’re going to sell a staggering number of these things. People are actually just upset about the reality of handset subsidies. Well, good. They should be! There are many things wrong with these subsidies.

First, they’re a particularly opaque form of consumer credit — you only have to read a few examples of the outrage alluded to above to see that most consumers haven’t really internalized how they work. That’s never a good thing.

Second, underwriting handsets forces carriers to lock down both customers and their phones in order to recoup the subsidy cost. By necessitating long-term contracts, friction is introduced to the market and competition is hindered. By requiring a hardware architecture that supports locking, carriers can more easily cripple phones’ functionality. And since carrier locking reduces the reusability and resalability of handsets, more phones are discarded. It’s a terrible set of incentives for consumers: every one or two years you’re offered a new electronic gadget at (seemingly) below market cost! And if you choose to take it, your old handset’s value is next to nothing, thanks to software restrictions imposed upon it. It’s a recipe for electronic waste.

Third, the opacity of the finance mechanism at work helps support bad perceptions about the fair price of mobile data service. It’s pretty clear that (given the bandwidth caps and speed limitations in place) mobile broadband has an artificially high price*. Admittedly, that’s probably mostly because businesses are the main purchasers of mobile broadband, and they’re less price sensitive than consumers. But this situation must be at least somewhat informed by consumers’ expectation that any given mobile account will cost $50+ per month. The popularity of the subsidy scheme makes it so that for most cutting edge services, a la carte (or even month to month) service isn’t an option at all — you have to enter into a contract even if you already own the device. Speaking as someone who has a bunch of devices and a strong desire to have them all constantly connected, this is pretty inconvenient.

But you know whose fault this is? Yours! Or ours, anyway. This country’s consumers have pretty clearly signaled their preference for subsidized handsets, and aren’t interested in hearing about the inefficiencies that those subsidies produce. I’m not immensely pleased about this collective decision, but that’s the way it’s going to be for the foreseeable future. The very least we can do is not whine about the inescapable consequences of this system — coming so soon after an economy-wide consumer credit implosion, these demands for free money (or at least a free extension of existing loans) are a bit much to take.

Incidentally, I do think there’s some reason for hope — over the long term, anyway. Wireless standards will eventually converge thanks to the efficiencies of the market and the physical limits on radio bandwidth. Once that happens there’ll be no reason to buy a new transceiver every year or two. Presumably there’ll be a similar leveling off in demand for these devices’ other capabilities, as handset manufacturers start to reach the sort of semi-stable compromise between power consumption, processing muscle and cost that microcomputer processor manufacturers have begun to find in the past few years (add display capability and size to that list for mobile devices, of course). I wouldn’t expect it to happen for a decade or so, but eventually we’ll start treating our handsets more like the watches they’ve replaced — as potential heirlooms.

* I can purchase daily unlimited GPRS traffic through Boost Mobile for $0.10. That’s a very slow service, but of course costs don’t scale evenly with the number of bits transferred. If a profitable unlimited data business can be run at that rate — including advertising, accounting overhead, bandwidth costs and infrastructure — then clearly 2.5/3G services (which typically cannot be purchased on a daily or even monthly basis) are being sold at a phenomenal markup.

Emily and I both read and enjoyed World War Z at the beach. Emily enjoyed it enough to ask that The Zombie Survival Guide be included among her birthday loot, and it was probably the spirit of that book that led us to discuss the technical specifics of vampire abatement strategies.

Unfortunately, no consensus could be reached, so it falls to you, internet, to weigh in on the feasibility of killing a vampire by driving one of the following objects through its heart:

1. Painted wood (latex/oil/lacquer (e.g. a pool cue))
2. Particle board
3. Frozen sawdust and water (see also)
4. A cone of tightly-wrapped paper

Posit that sufficient force is available to overcome problems related to each material’s sharpness — we are killing these vampires in a laboratory setting, and for the sake of this argument can safely dismiss practical concerns.

Emily felt strongly that the wood’s semantic status was the primary factor at work, leaving her convinced that option one was the only viable method of disposing of the undead. I disagree completely: I think there must be a chemical mechanism at work, which leads me to expect that methods two and three would unquestionably work, and that method four stands a good chance as well. But I have grave concerns about the use of laminated wood, and frankly am surprised that more vampire fiction doesn’t make use of actually-that-stake-was-painted-now-I’m-going-to-bite-you-(SURPRISE!) trope that it makes possible.

What say you, internet? Remember to show your work.

I’m back from the beach, and already rapidly spending down the sleep surplus I accrued there. It’s a little bit strange being back. I find it comforting to have a plan on the horizon — something out of the usual routine to look forward to. There are plenty of events looming, but aside from Emily’s birthday none of them yet have definite dates attached. I crave structure! Otherwise it’s too easy for summer to start looking like an air-conditioned march through sunshine and into autumn.

It is nice being back, though, and I’m itching to start work on a few non-Artomatic projects. First, though, I’ve got to make sure things are working properly at AoM — thanks to Victor my piece was saved from malfunction on opening night, but I haven’t yet had a post-opening chance to get down there and confirm that everything’s working the way it ought to be (I tried to last night, but had forgotten that Artomatic is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays).

But here, the nominal reason for the post: my sister Beth (whose birthday is today!) sent along this link, and it’s worth a look. It’s one of those full-browser 360° panoramic photo dealies, in this case showing off Houstonian attractions that might be of interest to Rice students. Of particular interest are the scenes linked to by the thumbnail of the clown face, and the one two spaces to its right. The first shows off the Orange Show, the bizarre visionary art compound created by an eccentric former orange arbitrageur and his commitment to largely incorrect nutrition education. The second is the Beer Can House, a somewhat less deranged but no less impressive work in which a man fashioned thousands (millions?) of beer cans into artistic armor for his home. Both are managed by the organization that Beth works for and are worth a visit if you find yourself in Houston and temporarily unable to spend the time eating more tacos.