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By Bill Altreuter

When Rob Rosenbaum is at his worst he is so insufferable that I wonder why I bother. Here, for example, he goes into rhapsodies over a song called "Choctaw Bingo". This piece nicely captures the Rosenbaum quirks that most annoy. The hyperbole, for example: Ron thinks this number is "New-national-anthem-level genius." The irrelevant self-aggrandizement: Ron wants you to know that, like James McMurtry, the songwriter under consideration, his mom was an English professor too. Then there is the wrong-headed pseudo-liberalism: "Now, I have a thing about Indian casinos. I'm totally in favor of them. I think they're a disguised form of reparations for the theft of Indian land. I'm glad the tribes are making billions taking the foolish white man's money. They deserve it." Easy for you to say, Ron. The Shinnecock who occupied the Bay Shore estuaries where you and I grew up aren't planning on building a casino on the Upper West Side where you live (although apparently they'd like to repatriate the Shinnecock Hills Golf Club).

On the other hand, because he is Ron Rosenbaum and can't resist self-referral, in his lede he links to a similar piece about Joni Mitchell's "Amelia", and although that article also falls into many of the same traps ("Bob Dylan once told me...."), the article nicely captures and explores the nuances of an appealing, complex song.

Full post as published by Outside Counsel on March 14, 2009 (boomark / email).