Bookmarks: Some stuff to read on the web

The San Francisco Chronicle attempts a Q&A with Kele Okereke. "Attempts" being the keyword here:

Q: In just two years you went from being a university student to this indie-rock icon. Did writing these songs help you process all that?

A: Um, um, no, not really. Quantify just what you said there. Give me an example. I don't understand what you're asking.

Q: Did writing these songs ...

A: Yeah, don't repeat what you just said.

Q: I can hear you trying to work a lot of things out.

A: I don't know what you're getting at, but I think it's time for the next question.

Q: Why are you such a hard interview?

A: No, I'm not. You clearly haven't really listened to the music because you're not asking anything about the record. I don't mind. I don't know. Perhaps we should call it a night (Okereke's publicist jumps in: "Yeah, if you don't have any questions about the record, perhaps we should revisit this at another time?"). Perhaps not.

The Wall Street Journal goes behind the scenes at the iTunes music store, and discovers its like High Fidelity multiplied by math club divided by 9 to 5:

Apple's muscle-flexing has begun to rub some artists and music companies the wrong way. During a recent radio interview, outspoken British pop singer Lily Allen accused iTunes of "bullying" artists into supplying exclusive content. There's a further worry among music executives that the few spots available to promote artists on iTunes are dwindling as Apple remakes the store into a broader entertainment destination for TV shows, movies and games.

Bagel Radio reports on the RIAA money-grab from a webcaster's perspective [thanks to Jon]:

The industry argument is that copyright holders should make more money from their songs being played on internet radio. Why not terrestrial radio as well? Oh, right, because terrestrial radio, with it's two decade-long slow fade into oblivion, provides promotional benefit to copyright holders, whereas internet radio does not.

The Onion's AV Club considers covers that improve on the original. They're not always right:

A beautiful song with slowly descending chords that match the theme of being brought down by constant reminders of an ex-lover, "(There's) Always Something There To Remind Me" has long been a standout in the songwriting catalog of Burt Bacharach and Hal David. The original 1964 recording by American soul singer Lou Johnson was actually pretty good, but its mediocre placement was all but obscured by Sandie Shaw's UK number-one version a few months later. Remember it? Of course not. It's awful—going all epileptic-showgirl at just the moment the lyric calls for introspection.