“Well, Americans:
What, nothing better to do?
Why don’t you kick yourself out?
You’re an immigrant too.”
–The White Stripes, Icky Thump

I admire how Jack and Meg are making a point to oppose the status quo and Abercrombie & Fitch by proclaiming, “Hey, white isn’t always right. And American doesn’t mean white. Minorities aren’t any less American than any of you hypocritical blockheads.”

The above lyrics remind me of a scene in The Godfather: Part II, when Senator Pat Geary of Nevada vituperates Michael Corleone, an American citizen by birth (unbeknownst to him, Michael is the scariest thing to come around since squalid public restrooms to a germaphobe like myself):

“I don’t like your kind of people. I don’t like to see you come out to this clean country in your oily hair, dressed up in those silk suits and try to pass yourselves off as decent Americans. I’ll do business with you, but the fact is I despise your masquerade, the dishonest way you pose yourself, yourself and your whole fucking family.”

Being the offspring of immigrants, you can just imagine the warm fuzzies that that scene invokes within my soul.

Just 2 weeks after Columbus Day, 2007 music and 1974 film remind me of American imperialism and the emotional and physical carnage that Ol’ Glory inflicts upon countless people. How appropriate. Because God knows Columbus didn’t just sail the ocean blue in 1492. He also managed to completely miss America and squeeze in the decimation of the American Indian population. Watch out, we have a triple threat on our hands.

End scene.

Too many people are unfamiliar with The Yardbirds. One word: sacrilege. Three letters: wtf.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not judging you. After all, not everyone was equipped with older, precocious sisters who shunned Boy George and company throughout the 1980s and pledged allegiance to the British Invasion of the 1960s. Growing up with a teenage sister during that heinous decade (from which no fashion trend has ever returned), rather than crooning “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” by Mother Goose, four-year-old annarepublic belted out “Purple Haze” by Jimi Hendrix.

Legitimate question: “Why the flip is annarepublic writing about a band from yestereon on FR*A, whose very name promotes fresh meat?”

Straightforward response: Because they are one of the most underrated rock bands of all time. And it would be a public disservice not to pay homage to a groundbreaking quintuplet that has so much to offer to the future of music, that is, if we want it to be sound.

If you already know the lyrics to classics like “Lost Woman”, “Happenings 10 Years Time Ago”, and “Over Under Sideways Down”, power to you (virtual high five). Otherwise, you are in danger of failing this round of Rockology 101.

Crash Course on why The Yardbirds represent a great paradigm for future rockstars:

(1) Substance – The heart of a great rock band is its members and their musicianship. Were The Yardbirds beauty contestants? Did they bite off rats’ heads during concerts? Did they have straight teeth? No to the third power, aka no cubed. But rather than riding The Beatles’ coattails, they established a very unique sound and composed incredible music.

Furthermore, The Yardbirds were…

(2) Ahead of Their Time – They took chances with their music, so much so that their contemporaries did not fully appreciate them and countless audiophiles remain unaware of them. Let us remedy that affliction right this instant.

Finally, they feature…

(3) Bad @ss Alumni – What other band graduated Jeff Beck, Jimmy Page, and Eric Clapton? Don’t fret. You don’t need these three exact men to have a slammin’ band. They’re probably busy, anyway. The last time I checked, Jeff Beck was preoccupied with his year-round impression of a cadaver, Jimmy Page was trying to beat Marlon Brando’s record of weight gain in one lifetime, and Slowhand was dating lasses 50 years his junior.

Brilliant musicians, they are. Infallible creatures, they are not.

But to quote the prolific readers from “Reading Rainbow,” “You don’t have to take my word for it.” Take The Yardbirds for a test flight on your own.

I speak on behalf of many who do not want B.S. to “gimme more” of anything (her initials…coincidental? I think not). Here’s to more original music and a better future for our lobes. Let us fight the good fight against atrocious music. Future rockstars of America, unite.