I only found out about GCstate while I was bored at work last week
QUOTE(IAmARevenant @ Mar 9 2007, 06:51 PM) [snapback]1759164[/snapback]
I can understand feeling better with a song like We Believe, but if you put a song like that on the same album as a song like The World is Black, that's just downright contradictory.
And I don't see how they "mix everything" on Chronicles. All I hear is depressing songs, and musically, it doesn't sound anything like any of their earlier albums.
If you prefer dark, depressing songs over something that actually gives you hope(through the whole album, not just one or two songs), fine then.
But I already go through too much shit to let some band rub it in my face.
I look for stuff I relate to, stuff that reminds me I'm not alone. Hearing people sing about certain things gives me hope. Yes, the songs can be depressing, but that doesn't mean they make me feel that way. Anything that gives me any sort of hope is a good thing. Otherwise, I don't think I'd be here.
Here's more of that interview from Kerrang.
QUOTE
Two weeks after this interview took place, Joel Madden and Hillary Duff broke up. More to the point, it seems he was chucked by her – although Good Charlotte’s management company have yet to comment on or confirm this. In the meantime, internet rumours circulate that Madden is stepping out with ‘Simple Life’ star and Beverly Hills socialite Nicole Richie. The same week, Richie is arrested driving her Sports Utility Vehicle the wrong way up the car pool lane of the 134 Freeway in Burbank, California. At 1:45 in the morning. At the police station, she weighs in at six stone, one pound.
Lifestyles of the rich and famous, indeed.
About that. Yes, Good Charlotte once wrote a song called ‘Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous”. It became thir most popular song. With it they became rich and famous, and now they appear to be living the lifestyle. It was the kind of tune, and they the kind of people, that took the battle lines of what could and couldn’t be termed ‘punk’ and crushed them to the dust. It wasn’t that the distinction no longer applied, it just rendered it yesterday’s news. Today, in Los Angeles a billboard on Melrose Avenue advertises a show called ‘One Punk Under God’, a ‘reality’ series starring tattooed ‘punk pastor’ Jay Baker, son of the disgraced TV evangelists Jim and Tammy Faye Baker. A hundred yards down from this you can buy Black Flag t-shirts manufactured in a third worl country. As Far as four letter words go, ‘punk’ no longer fits the description.
“Of course, people are going to look at us and make assumptions.” This is Benji Madden speaking, Joel’s twin brother. He has an armful of tattoosand a pair of $150 Ben Sherman sunglasses that he got for free. “But we still keep things real. We are real. You can either come with us, or you can be left behind. I don’t care. But we’re Good Charlotte and we do things unapologetically. Yes, we hang out in Beverly Hills sometimes, but we’re still a working class band.”
How many famous women have you slept with?
“None.”
Bullocks.
“Alright, a handful.”
This lunchtime, the Maddens – together with Good Charlotte bassist Paul Thomas and guitarist Billy Martin (drummer Dean Butterworth tours with the group but is not established as a paid up member) – are sitting in a function room at the Roosevelt Hotel, up high on Hollywood Boulevard. On the other side of the road is the Kodak Theater, venue for The Oscars. Tonight it hosts the Victoria’s Secret Lingerie Awards. Red carpet is being laid and camera crews are getting themselves ready. This recently renovated and suffocatingly exclusive hotel will host the aftershow party. Planners and technicians bustle about. In contradiction of the no smoking signs, the Maddens do the opposite. The spent butts swim in a broth of nicotine and bottled water. The band wait for hamburgers to be delivered.
“Our aim from day one was to be the biggest band in the world,” say Benji. “We did not set out to stay poor.”
Because poor is what they were. Mud poor. They were raised in the dish-rag districts of Maryland, a few miles from Washington DC but closer to the violent streets of Baltimore. Their childhood was not the kind you see portrayed on party political broadcasts. One Christmas Eve – the twins were 15: they no longer believed in Santa Claus but they certainly believed in family – their father left home. Their mother followed him. Neither parent returned. Benji and Joel Madden shot hoops outside on the driveway and then climbed into bed, in the dark. On Christmas morning they opened presents. But the presents weren’t for them, they were for their cousins.
“Every day I have at least one moment that reminds me of how fortunate I am,” says Benji, comparing and contrasting. “Whether it’s riding around in a nice-ass car, or catching a glimpse of the Hollywood sign or just standing in the sunshine. These moments reminds me that where I am is not where I came from.”
Joel Madden puts it more bluntly. “The things about the song ‘Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous’ that people tend not to pick up on is that we’re saying, ‘if you don’t want the money, we’ll have it. I’ll take it off your hands’. Money has never been a problem for me.”