The King's Cameleopard

Make me dance, I want to surrender

2010-09-14T00:04:00.002-04:00

Dang, I need to steal some of Stuart Murdoch's moves:

(See also: 2:25 in the below video)

Anybody care to guess what album I am eagerly awaiting?

Dear Radio Stations:

2010-08-02T17:38:00.004-04:00

I don't know if you're aware of this, but Big Boi recently put out his long-awaited solo album, and it's really, really good:

Plus, this song by Robyn is just insanely catchy:

But I guess if you just want to keep playing "California Gurls" on a constant loop, that's up to you.

(Is it too much for me to hope that the title of Katy Perry's upcoming album will give Baltimore dream-pop duo Beach House an unexpected sales bump due to mis-typed Amazon searches?)

Where Did I Go?

2010-07-10T18:10:00.007-04:00

Boy, I haven't written anything for a while, have I? Anyway, I thought I might create the illusion that I've been insanely busy lately by recounting the two vaguely notable things I've done lately. Enjoy!

I'm not what I would call a She & Him fan. Sure, the lead singles off of their first two albums were insanely catchy, and I have the requisite indie-crush on Zooey Deschanel, but I never felt much need to delve any deeper than that. So my attendance at their concert last Friday night wasn't due to some burning desire to see them, but more because I hadn't been to a show in a long time, tickets were fairly cheap, and it was a nice night to see a concert on Penn's Landing. In any case, I ended up having a pretty good time. It wasn't exactly revelatory, but it was entirely pleasant music to hear on a warm summer night. In addition to their own songs, they played some welcome covers -- Joni Mitchell's "You Turn Me On, I'm a Radio" and a rollicking "Roll Over Beethoven" (sung by M. Ward).

I didn't take many picture because I was afraid Zooey would beat me up. Also, I was really far away.

You see these people? They all want to marry Zooey.

Hey, wow! A light source!

In case you're wondering, the number of drinks required to make it possible to dance to any She & Him song is 5.

The opening act was Jolie Holland, who is, as far as I can tell, no relation to Jools Holland. I wasn't paying especially close attention, so I can't offer an informed opinion on her music. Then again, the same could be said for the rest of the crowd, judging by the low-level roar of conversation and the girl standing near me who was playing a game of "count the straw-hat-wearing hipsters." (Answer: many!)

Was so drunk that I was taking pictures in a bar? You decide!

After the show, I walked over to National Mechanics, where I moved in a fashion reminiscent of a man suffering from some mental or muscular disorder.

Then on Wednesday, I went to the Phillies game against the Braves with some co-workers, which was fun. I hadn't been to a baseball game since 2004, when Citizen's Bank Park had just opened, and had forgotten what a different experience it is seeing a a game in person versus watching it on TV. Basically, when I'm in the stands at a ballpark, I don't have to option to open my laptop, or read a magazine, or flip to another channel, or do any of the other things that conspire to keep me from watching a baseball game all the way through. Also, unlike the last game I saw, the Phils hit a couple of home runs, so I got to see the big Liberty Bell swing back and forth.

Unfortunately, there were a couple of minor things that lessened my enjoyment of the game. Record-breaking heat, for one. Also, I had some nachos that didn't really agree with me. I've never gotten so drunk or hung-over that I swore off alcohol, but by the time I went to bed I swore multiple times that I would never again order ballpark nachos (and if you know my affection for nachos, you'll understand what a sacrifice this is). Also, the Phillies lost. But there will be more games this season; the loss of the nachos is something far more tragic.

Rocket Symphony

2010-05-26T23:15:00.003-04:00

Step 1: Click the play button to listen to a portion of Philip Glass's score for Koyaanisqatsi:

Step 2: Once the music starts, open this time-lapse video of the space shuttle being prepped for launch in a new browser window/tab.

Step 3: Enjoy.

(There is an optional "Get high" step that you can add in there somewhere if you prefer.)

All the White Girls Trip When I Sing at Sunday Service

2010-05-15T13:11:00.004-04:00

In a year that has seen new albums by The Hold Steady, the National and (next week) LCD Soundsystem, it's to my great surprise that the two records that I've immediately fallen in love with are from a Jack White side project (I like the White Stripes just fine, but would never call them one of my favorite bands) and a Pitchfork-hyped duo that traffics in loudness and distortion. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Sea of Cowards by the Dead Weather and Treats by Sleigh Bells, my favorite albums of 2010.

Some words of warning: Sea of Cowards is great for anyone who likes sludgy rock, but Sleigh Bells are not going to be for everyone. Be sure your speakers/headphones are set to a reasonable volume, and if you don't like what you hear at first, skip to "Rill Rill," the song least likely to cause offense.

Theologians, They Don't Know Nothing 'Bout Wilco's Soul

2010-05-08T21:52:00.001-04:00

A retro-soul cover of one of the more dour songs on Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is a tricky proposition. At one end of the spectrum, it could end up like one of those tiresome ironic punk or ska cover songs that were all the rage a decade ago.

At the other end of the spectrum, it could be this:

Batmania Begins

2010-04-26T23:50:00.003-04:00

I simply cannot believe that I've gone this long without knowing that Melbourne, Australia was founded by none other than Batman. And that there are numerous streets, parks, and other places throughout the country named after Batman.

Sadly, Batman died of syphilis at the age of 37.

What I'm Into These Days: Drawings Edition

2010-04-12T22:06:00.004-04:00

The idea behind Axe Cop is so simple that it's shocking no one thought to do it before: the stories are written by a six-year-old with a hyperactive imagination, then illustrated by his 29-year-old brother, with all of the strange logic, randomly appearing and disappearing characters, and bizarre plotting intact. Read it now, before the author gets old enough that he starts trying to make sense.

Kate Beaton's Hark, a Vagrant, on the other hand, has a charmingly hand-drawn style and a predeliction to make jokes about obscure historical figures. It's also quite hilarious, even if you have to head to Wikipedia before you can understand the references.

It was via a link on Ms. Beaton's site that I came across a pair of great Lost-themed comics. First, there's Nedroid's #lostcomics on Twitter, a bunch of dumb/brilliant three-panel gags, often involving a heavy-lidded, grinning Jacob and a hope that Vincent still has an important part to play before the series ends.

Also, there's Lost Showdowns, a collection of cute drawings of major conflicts from the series (Faraday vs. Jughead, Desmond vs. the computer, Eko vs. the Smoke Monster). My personal favorite is the drawing of Keamy, Alex and Ben, which is just adorable, until you remember what happens next.

What I'm Into These Days: Music Edition

2010-04-05T23:24:00.002-04:00

Childish Gambino is better known as Donald Glover, a comedian who used to write for 30 Rock and currently plays Troy on Community, and has a side career rapping over songs by Pitchfork-approved artists like Vampire Weekend, Grizzly Bear and Animal Collective. There's plenty of stuff to download over at his website, and my current favorite is "New Prince," which features shout-outs to Sports Night, Anna Wintour, the Situation and "nerd girls losing their shit like Prom night," all set to the eardrum-punishing "Crown on the Ground" by Sleigh Bells.

I had never heard of Pavement when they were actually together making music, and didn't bother to do much remedial listening in the time since. Then this track comes along and makes me think this was a foolish decision on my part.

Your calender probably says that summer starts on June 20. Well, your calendar is a filthy liar. The first day of summer is May 17, when the new LCD Soundsystem album is released.

Correction of the Day

2010-03-26T21:32:00.002-04:00

From Slate:

In an item in the March 12 "Slatest," Jessica Loudis incorrectly stated that Karl Rove left the Bush administration a year ago. He resigned in August 2007.

OK, so the mistake itself isn't so bad, but the image of Karl Rove still lurking around the White House months into Barack Obama's presidency, like one of those Japanese soldiers who thought World War II was still raging, is too amusing for me to resist.

And When I Woke Up, My Makura Was Gone

2010-03-23T23:18:00.003-04:00

So today would have been Akira Kurosawa's 100th birthday. Unfortunately, I didn't think ahead and call out sick from work so I could take full advantage of TCM's all-day marathon, but I did do the next-best thing: have a really weird dream about the legendary director last night.

I was on the set of a movie he was shooting with Toshiro Mifune (of course) and set in feudal Japan. The film was going to be an ambitious, multi-part work (My sleep-addled brain might have thought that Kurosawa had something to do with Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters) in which the performances would be mostly improvised. On the very first take, though, one of the actors missed his cue or something, and Kurosawa became so enraged that he grabbed a bow and started shooting arrows at Mifune. Why he was trying to kill his lead actor made no sense; it wasn't his fault that some other guy messed up. Plus, if you're trying to make an unscripted movie, it's hardly fair to punish your actors for not doing exactly what you expect them to.

Kurosawa was also giving direction in English; I was a little embarrassed that he was doing that for my benefit when I was just some guy hanging around, and his actors probably couldn't understand him very well.

Anyway, that's the story of my wacky Kurosawa dream. Although if you ask him or Mifune what happened, I'm sure they'll tell you a totally different story.

"This is a big fucking deal."

2010-03-23T22:58:00.002-04:00

With those 6 words, caught by a live mike and broadcast on CNN, Joe Biden moves a little closer to becoming the hilariously sleazy character found in the pages of The Onion:

Joe Biden Shows Up to Inauguration With Ponytail

Shirtless Biden Washes Trans Am in White House Driveway

Biden Requests to Be Named Special Envoy to Reno

Biden Invokes Freedom of Information Act to Find Out When Woman Gets Off Work

Walletless Biden Found Handcuffed to Bedpost

Biden Winks After Offering to Buy Eggnog for White House Christmas Party

White House Infested With Bedbugs After Biden Brings in Recliner Off the Curb

Biden Criticized For Appearing In Hennessy Ads

Rock 'n roll is here to stay / Come inside now, it's OK

2010-03-18T00:30:00.004-04:00

Alex Chilton has passed away at the age of 59. I can't quite explain why that saddens me as much as it does, since I wouldn't exactly call myself a fan of him or of Big Star. I mean, I knew and liked a handful of their tunes -- "Thirteen," "In the Street," "September Gurls" -- but never went much deeper than that. But I'm a sucker for all things power-pop, and Chilton was very much an elder statesman of that genre. I always meant to get into his music, because it seemed like it would be exactly the sort of thing I would love. In fact, after spending the last hour or so listening to songs on YouTube, I can confirm that it is exactly the sort of thing I love. Thankfully, the music's not going anywhere, though it probably sounds a little sadder than it would have last week.

To further highlight my ignorance, I've heard the Box Tops' song "The Letter" so many times, but never knew that it was Alex Chilton singing.

Was the Chilton School in Gilmore Girls so named as an homage to the singer? I'd never made the connection, but it seems obvious in retrospect.

I'm Going Back to New Jersey, I Do Believe They've Had Enough of Me

2010-03-14T17:15:00.002-04:00

If you like any combination of the Gaslight Anthem, the Pogues, and/or song-cycles based on the Civil War, you really owe it to yourself to check out Titus Andronicus's new album The Monitor. If nothing else, listen to the epic closing track "The Battle of Hampton Roads."

Absurdly Proportioned Doll Fail

2010-03-13T16:09:00.002-05:00

I wonder if whoever came up with the idea to make a Mad Men Barbie doll of Joan Holloway has ever looked at a picture of Christina Hendricks.

Get Matlock on the Case

2010-03-10T20:12:00.002-05:00

March 7, 2010: 114-year-old Mary Josephine Ray, the oldest person in America, died in Westmoreland, New Hampshire.

Mere hours later, 113-year-old Daisy Bailey, who became the oldest person in America upon Mary Josephine Ray's death, passed away.

The frightening implication: some deranged supercentenarian wants to get into the Guinness book and is willing to resort to murder to get there.

Oscar Post-Mortem

2010-03-08T23:15:00.004-05:00

I didn't see any films that were released in 2009. Not a one! But I certainly won't let that stop me from talking about last night's Academy Awards. After all, the Academy itself has proven over and over that a judgment on the artistic merits of the nominated films is besides the point (for evidence, please see the winners for 1952, 1956, 1976, 1980, 1990, 1994, 1997, 1998 & 2005).

Just because I didn't see any of the nominated films doesn't mean I wasn't rooting for anyone, though, and it was great to see Kathryn Bigelow win best director, partly because it meant we wouldn't be subjected to more ego-inflation for James Cameron. Plus, as the first female director to win an Oscar, she is heralding in a new era in which directors will now be subject to the same relentless red-carpet criticism as actresses.
Trivia time! I spent the evening reading the A.V. Club's live blog (skip to 11:31 to see my minor contribution!), and someone there mentioned the numerous Lost-affiliated winners: J. J. Abrams's Star Trek won for makeup, composer Michael Giacchino won best score for Up, Kate was in The Hurt Locker, Ana-Lucia was in Avatar, and George Minkowski directed the documentary The Cove.
Am I alone in finding Peter Sarsgaard incredibly creepy? He always seems to have this dead-eyed stare, and he always sounds like he's doing a John Malkovich impression. His unsettling intensity would have made him a great actor for Stanley Kubrick, if only he'd been born a couple of decades earlier.
Most Embarrassing Directorial Choice: the way the camera cut to random black actors whenever Precious won anything.
My favorite speech of the night was costume designer Sandy Powell, who dedicated her award to her fellow designers who work on contemporary and low-budget films, and thus are unlikely to ever win an Oscar. It's long been a pet peeve of mine that the costume (and art direction) awards almost always go to lavish period pieces. There are plenty of other films where the clothing choices are less obvious, but do just as much to define the characters: think of Adam Sandler's blue suit in Punch-Drunk Love, or the distinctive outfits in The Big Lebowski, or every stitch of clothing worn in a Wes Anderson movie. Aren't these just as interesting as the latest batch of corsets and formal gowns?
Hey, you know what they could do instead of having each acting nominee be roasted/eulogized by one of their peers? Maybe show a nice lengthy clip of the acting that got them nominated.
I was of the opinion that Jeff Bridges should have won an Oscar for his performance as the Dude, but after seeing his acceptance speech for Crazy Heart, I'm not so sure he was really acting in The Big Lebowski.
Hey, legendary cinematographer Gordon Willis got an honorary award! I always forget that he's alive (I am possibly confusing him with Gordon Parks).
Interpretive dance? More like misinterpretive dance!
In many years, the presenter reading the nominees for best screenplay will read some non-dialogue portions of the script while the scene plays. It's a nifty little exercise, but it always seems odd that to illustrate the importance of the script, they highlight the stage directions rather than the story or dialogue. I don't think passages like "George enters the room. He sits down and pours himself a drink" are really the pinnacle of the screenwriter's art.
This was the first year that Nick Park, of Wallace and Gromit fame, was nominated for something but didn't win. Looks like after two decades, the brutal anti-Nick Park backlash has begun.
Part of me hopes that Kristen Stewart, with her slouching, persistent lip-biting, and coughing over her shoulder, is engaged in a piece of performance art critiquing the demure behavior expected of young starlets. Could Ms. Stewart be a modern-day Andy Kaufman, or at least a modern-day Joaquin Phoenix?
I wonder which was the greater honor for T-Bone Burnett: winning an Oscar, or getting to meet Miley Cyrus.
Finally, the Coen Brothers didn't win anything last night, but that won't stop me from linking to the fansite Coenesque, where you can read the screenplays for every one of Joel and Ethan's movies. I have a feeling this will consume a great deal of my time.

What I've Seen: Ben-Hur

2010-03-03T21:00:00.003-05:00

Ben-Hur is the sort of Movie They Don't Make Anymore (TM), namely because audiences eventually realized that a four-hour film isn't necessarily twice as good as a two hour film. I could expend a comparable amount of time talking about it, but frankly, there's not a lot to say. It's impressively mounted and held my interest for most of its mammoth running time, and the central story of a man subjected to injustice who seeks vengeance is the sort of thing that keeps getting remade on a regular basis (often in a similar setting; see also Spartacus and Gladiator).

In the interests of keeping things short, there's a reason why everyone talks about the big, thrilling chariot race (and it definitely is big and thrilling) and not the hour-long Sunday school lesson that follows it.

Things You Can Remind Me of the Next Time I Start Acting Like I Know Squat About Music

2009-11-30T21:53:00.002-05:00

I sat down last week to fill out WXPN's year-end survey, but ran into a minor problem while trying to list my 10 favorite albums of 2009: I've only actually heard 3 albums that came out this year -- Phoenix's Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix (great), the Decemberists' The Hazards of Love (pretty good, considering I don't really like the Decemberists), and the Flaming Lips' Embryonic (I love the Lips, but boy oh boy, I didn't like that album). I also bought Everything Goes Wrong by Vivian Girls, which has been in my car for several months but is yet to make it into my CD player. Truthfully, this isn't so unusual, since I typically wait until the year-end lists come out before I catch up on the previous twelve months of music, but still...
Maybe I'm not alone on this one, but it wasn't until a few days ago that I realized -- after wondering for the better part of a decade -- why Jay-Z calls himself Hova. It's Jay-hova, like Jehovah, right?

The Nordic Menace is Threatening Our Beloved American Holidays

2009-11-26T12:14:00.002-05:00

I just found out that the Philadelphia Thanksgiving Parade is now sponsored by IKEA rather than Boscov's.

I suppose it's only a matter of time before our traditional celebrations of Pilgrims and turkeys morph into a bizarre ritual involving allen wrenches and cheap bookcases named FÄRNOT. Until that awful day comes to pass, though, Happy Thanksgiving!

What I Learned Today

2009-11-19T20:18:00.002-05:00

Back in 2001, Ricky Jay appeared in a commercial for Bob Dylan's Love and Theft. It should not surprise you to learn that playing cards are involved.

Live Every Week Like It Was Shark Week

2009-11-16T20:16:00.002-05:00

Wow, this Miami Shark flash game is just crazily entertaining. Though-provoking, too. After all, who's to say that a shark couldn't jump out of the water and eat the Concorde?

Another Halloween Night, and I Ain't Got No Costume

2009-10-31T19:09:00.003-04:00

As usual, it's All Hallow's Eve and I find myself not dressed up with no place to go. Still, as in years past, I've managed to come up with one fairly decent costume idea, though it's best suited for the ladies. So to my female readership: go ahead and steal my last-minute idea of dressing up as the Utz girl. I mean, how easy is that? Red T-shirt, lots of blush on your cheeks, big red bow in your hair, a sly grin, and your hand in a bag of chips. Just be sure to credit me when you get the inevitable compliments.

Meanwhile, Francesco Marciuliano, writer of Sally Forth, came up with an idea so obvious, I'm surprised it never occured to me: dress up as a character whom no one ever saw! Charlie from Charlie's Angels is just one example; it could also work with Maris, Niles's wife on Frasier, or the contents of the briefcase in Pulp Fiction.

Update: So, yeah -- of course the costume ideas start coming fast and furious in early November. These ones are not only easy, they're unbearably snobbish as well!

Young Antoine Doinel - all you need is a turtleneck, plaid coat and, if you're going the extra mile, a stolen typewriter.
Death - white face paint, a black robe with hood, chess set
The lead characters from Breathless - For him: snappy coat and tie, fedora. For her: skinny jeans, pixie haircut, New York Herald Tribune T-shirt.

What's that? Why yes, I do spend an inordinate amount of time browsing the Criterion Collection's website! However did you guess?

Other Meats For Uplifting Gormandizers

2009-10-29T15:34:00.002-04:00

I suppose it's inevitable that a review of DBGB Kitchen and Bar, a Manhattan restaurant near the late CBGB, would inspire the New York Times' new food critic to let out his inner punk rocker. Two separate Ramones references in the headline and first line of the review? Check.

He does deserve extra credit for a less-obvious Talking Heads line, though.

(Also: a restaurant with a sausage-centric menu? I'm all revved up and ready to go.)

I Wonder Which Songs They're Gonna Play When We Go...

2009-10-25T14:55:00.018-04:00

The '59 Sound, the breakthrough album from Jersey punks the Gaslight Anthem, completely snuck up on me last year; I don't recall hearing anything about the band before they started appearing on year-end best-of lists. And it's the rare album that actually lives up to the hype, an almost maddeningly consistent group of songs in what is possibly my favorite sub-genre: frequently anthemic rock music with smart, allusive lyrics (see also: the Hold Steady, Drive-By Truckers).

Seeing them live, though, offered a reminder that this was first and foremost punk music (and also a reminder that in all my years, I had never been to an actual punk show). At the sound of the first chord, the crowd around me pressed forward and the limbs of a crowdsurfer nearly knocked the glasses off of my face, and I decided to beat a hasty retreat further back from the stage. Even that wasn't entirely safe, though, as I was only a couple of yards from a circle of moshers. This was a far cry from the way I had previously experienced the band's music: through headphones, with the lyrics booklet in my hand. Under the circumstances, I preferred the slower, quieter numbers, since I could focus on the show and worry less about some dude knocking me over. The highlight of the evening was a hushed, singalong rendition of "Here's Looking at You Kid," although the album-closing "Backseats" and a cover of Tom Petty's "Refugee" were close runners-up.

The Gaslight Anthem most likely have pomade on their tour rider.

They also have the most bad-ass kick drum you're likely to see: that's John Shaft and Charles Bronson.

Considering that they share a name with a mystery spoof written by Neil Simon, I kind of assumed Murder by Death would be a fairly lighthearted opening act. Imagine my surprise, then, when the lead singer turned out to have mutton chops and a Nick Cave baritone, singing songs about, well, murder and death (words like "dust" and "whiskey" are liable to pop up in the lyrics) and whose backing band included a cello player. There were some die-hard fans in the audience; the guys on either side of me seemed to know every word, and both seemed to think that the only proper way to sing along was with their hands extended towards the heavens and head thrown back like a howling wolf.

Murder by Death's choice of cover song: Nancy Sinatra's "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)". What's that, Wikipedia? You say that song was originally recorded by Cher? Thanks, Wikipedia! You're the best!
The Loved Ones are local kids, and as such they were received enthusiastically by the hometown crowd. I'd be lying if I said I remembered any of their songs, though they did play a version of Conor Oberst's "I Don't Want to Die (In the Hospital)." A lucky audience member guessed the song before they played it, and was thus rewarded with a swig of the Jack Daniels bottle that the frontman kept nearby.
----------------------------

Later that week, and closer to the other end of the musical spectrum, I went to see St. Vincent and Andrew Bird. During the show, I came to the somewhat disappointing realization that, while I don't dislike either of those artists' musical output, I don't love a great deal of it either. It was fun, though, to see the virtuosic Bird effortlessly switch between violin (often creating on-the-fly tape loops to accompany himself), xylophone, guitar, vocals, and whistling. His stage setup was also impressive, with stacks of vintage-looking amps and oversized gramophone horns, including one two-headed monster of a Victrola that spun around during certain songs.

Oh, and if the guy to my right who kept shouting "Fake Palindromes!" between songs happens to be reading this: Try not to be such an asshole in the future, OK?"

Closing Time

2009-10-17T22:26:00.003-04:00

Call it a Murphy's Law of concertgoing: if you spend weeks debating whether you want to shell out the money for tickets to see Leonard Cohen at the Spectrum (because, on the one hand, you'd feel like you're squandering an opportunity if you didn't see Mr. Cohen while he's touring for the first time in years, but on the other hand, you're skeptical that a large arena is the ideal venue to see him, sandwiched as he is between multi-night farewell shows by Bruce Springsteen and Pearl Jam), the show will end up moving to the Tower at the last minute (which would be an awesome venue, but is small enough to have completely sold out).

What I've Seen: Nosferatu the Vampyre

2009-10-11T00:36:00.006-04:00

If you're in the market for a filmed version of Bram Stoker's Dracula, Werner Herzog's 1979 Nosferatu the Vampyre is but one choice among many: F.W. Murnau's silent Nosferatu (of which Herzog's film is a remake/homage), Tod Browning's version with Bela Lugosi, and Francis Ford Coppola's strangely cast and over-the-top but visually spectacular adaptation -- and those are just the ones that I've seen. And if all you're after is the basic plot -- real estate agent sells city home to Transylvanian count, vampire moves west with designs on the throat of said agent's wife, bloodsucking ensues -- pretty much any of them will get the job done.

But then, nobody goes into a Werner Herzog movie just to see a plot unfold. They go for the director's audacious, go-for-broke style. So it was disappointing to find that the beginning portion of Nosferatu is mostly missing that Herzogian quality. There's nothing necessarily wrong with it, but it feels like an attempt to make the movie that Murnau would have made if he had access to late-20th century technology: with color, sound, movable cameras, location photography, and an atmospheric score from Krautrock band Popol Vuh. As Johnathan Harker (played by Bruno Ganz, perhaps best known as the actor in all of those YouTube videos of an irate Hitler) slowly makes his journey to Dracula's castle, I was ready to dismiss the film as an unnecessary retread.

Ah, but when the Count himself finally appeared onscreen, it was a different story. Frequent Herzog collaborator Klaus Kinski is such a sinister presence that it's difficult to be anything less than transfixed when he occupies the frame. Kinski wears the same ghoulish makeup that Max Schreck wore in the original, and also copies Schreck's stiff-backed, slow movements (although he is also capable of quickly scurrying around, like the rodent he so closely resembles). It is also, at times, a surprisingly understated performance, as Kinski plays Dracula as a lonely creature tormented by his immortality. For better or for worse, the modern trope of the angst-ridden vampire has some of its roots here.

The film doesn't really start to get going, however, until Dracula arrives in Wisborg (the film's analogue to London in Stoker's novel). Beginning with unbroken shot of the ship carrying the vampire drifting slowly and eerily through a canal, this is where it felt like Herzog finally diverged from his source material and indulged in his own whims. As townsfolk keep dying mysteriously and everyone fears the Plague, Herzog sets many hauntingly apocalyptic images in the town square: lines of casket-carrying pallbearers (shot from above to look like centipedes), livestock roaming freely among the dwindling survivors, and a group holding a self-described last supper as hundreds of rats swarm at their feet (Herzog's fascination with animals is evident -- edited into the film are several slow-motion clips of a bat in flight). The film improves right until its final scene, where unexpected comedy and a bleak twist mingle side by side.

Internet Argument of the Week

2009-10-10T22:55:00.003-04:00

This epic, incredibly vitriolic comment thread at Philebrity proves that people wearing snuggies and going out to drink is the most controversial issue facing the world today.

It was pretty nice outside this week, wasn't it? Then why is everyone so cranky?

More Songs from Pandora

2009-10-03T19:58:00.003-04:00

I've been around a while, and during that time I guess I've heard Cheap Trick's "I Want You to Want Me" a couple hundred times. But it was always the live Budokan version. It wasn't until earlier this week that I heard the studio version, and holy hell I would never have guessed that this was the same band inspiring an arena full of excited Japanese girls.

Dig that honky-tonk piano solo!

While that's a pleasantly unfamiliar take on a familiar song, this next revelation made me question everything I thought I knew about the universe. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Tom Waits:

Obviously, this was before he switched to a diet consisting entirely of unfiltered cigarettes, cheap whiskey, and the occasional piece of sandpaper.

Pandora Rocks

2009-09-07T16:28:00.004-04:00

I've known about the internet radio site Pandora for years, but never really spent a lot of time listening to it until recently. It's quickly become one of my favorite things in the universe. Without it, I would still be completely unaware that the following things existed:

An album of mellow My Bloody Valentine covers
A (damn catchy) song about the cult TV show The Prisoner
An answer song to Sam Cooke's "Bring It On Home to Me"

Ah, Technology: Part II

2009-09-05T15:57:00.002-04:00

Dear Al Sharpton,

I'll admit that I don't use Twitter, and I (thankfully) have not been to a lot of funerals in my life. Even so, I think I know enough to say that one should not generally post Twitter updates at a funeral. Emily Post might have something to say about that.

Ah, Technology

2009-09-04T22:50:00.003-04:00

So I use Google Calendar to remind myself of upcoming concerts, movies, and other such things that I might be interested in checking out. I never had any problem with it until the other day, when I tried to add an entry for a screening of 28 Days Later, and Google's software assumed that I would be busy for the next four weeks.

The Woman That I Love, She Got a Prizefighter's Nose

2009-09-03T20:18:00.002-04:00

I have no idea if Patton Oswalt has any inside information about Bob Dylan's private life, but the image he presents in this story is just too funny to be false:

My friend told me he was at Bob Dylan’s house years ago, and Bob Dylan was complaining because too many of his kids were getting nose jobs or something, and he was on the phone saying “I ain’t paying for any more noses.” So like Bob Dylan is this radical, amazing songwriter, but he still has to bitch about his kids and yell at them.

(The rest of that interview is absolutely worth reading as well. I love that Patton's a true geek's geek, always unashamed to rave about the things he loves.)

Portmanteau Clever By Half

2009-09-02T20:02:00.002-04:00

It took me the better part of a week to figure out what Slate's new aggregation feature's name was supposed to mean. Is it the superlative form of Slate (as in slate, slater, slatest)? A strangely spelled contraction of "Slate list"? An attempt to piggyback on the popularity (?) of Gothamist, Phillyist, and other similarly named blogs?

It finally hit me that it's a combination of "Slate" and "latest." At least I think it is.

Using Up the Leftovers

2009-08-28T23:01:00.004-04:00

Quick! Here's a bunch of stuff I was too lazy to write about earlier in the week!

Ever since Eric Bruntlett's game-ending feat on Sunday, I've been fascinated by the history of the unassisted triple play. It occurred seven times between the years of 1909 and 1927, which would certainly make it uncommon, but frequent enough that you wouldn't expect it to become one of the rarest events in baseball. I mean, in 1927 it happened on two consecutive days! Then, almost as if it were feeling overexposed, the unassisted triple play seemed to have gone into a self-imposed exile for 65 years, emerging only briefly in 1968. It wasn't until Mickey Morandini in 1992 that the UTP finally felt comfortable enough to reappear, and since then it's made another six appearances. I'm not enough of a baseball fan to understand what accounts for that massive gap between the twenties and nineties. Rule changes? Several generations of lousy infielders? One of those whimsical baseball curses? It's quite baffling.
I think I'm spending a little too much time on certain internet message boards: after leaving a congratulatory note on the Facebook page of a friend who just got engaged, I felt a small sense of accomplishment that mine was the first comment.
More perils of the internet: I recently read a spoiler that revealed the ending of Martin Scorsese's upcoming Dennis Lehane adaptation Shutter Island. I don't know what pisses me off more: the fact that the movie and book may have been ruined for me, or that the big twist is exactly what I figured it would be.
Lastly, I feel ashamed to admit that I had never heard of Ellie Greenwich before Wednesday, when news broke of her death. Little did I know that she had a long list of songwriting credits, including many of producer Phil Spector's most indelible hits. "Then He Kissed Me" is, for my money, just about the perfect distillation of what a pop song should be (and, to continue the Scorsese theme, the soundtrack to that classic scene in Goodfellas), and "Be My Baby" ain't that far behind it. With his recent murder conviction (and long history of bizarre, often violent behavior) it's a bothersome thing to call oneself a Phil Spector fan, but have no such reservations about calling myself an Ellie Greenwich fan.

...And That's When My iPod Died

2009-08-26T23:37:00.001-04:00

It Is Not Tony's Custom to Go Where He Is Not Wanted

2009-08-24T22:06:00.003-04:00

So, when did former sitcom star and possible Philadelphia teacher Tony Danza

start to look like the Mystery Man from Lost Highway?

And who will be the next Taxi alumnus to use our fair city as the backdrop for his wacky exploits? Call me crazy, but my money's on dark horse Andy Kaufman.

I Even Fell For Your Stupid Love Song

2009-08-24T00:28:00.002-04:00

And now, Jersey punks singing Kelly Clarkson songs:

Since, as the saying goes, three makes a trend, I'm upset that I couldn't find any other videos that fit the category. The Misfits, Patti Smith: I'm looking in your direction.

Hey Arthur, What's the Weather Forecast?

2009-08-17T20:04:00.000-04:00

I Didn't Even Have to Use My AK

2009-08-14T21:56:00.005-04:00

So a couple of days ago, Philebrity posted a link to Snacks and Shit, a blog that does nothing but comment on absurd rap lyrics, and it is truly hilarious. While going through their archives, I checked to see how much they had written on Ice Cube's song "It Was a Good Day," but was disappointed to see that it only merited one post. You see, a week or so ago, I was listening to that track a few times a day, and while it's a killer song, it's got quite a few lines that baffle me. To wit:

"Get me on the court and I'm trouble / Last week, fucked around and got a triple double" Yeah, it's not that original to point out how ridiculous it is that Ice Cube is keeping detailed personal statistics during a playground basketball game (unless he brings his own scorekeeper along?). Moreover, how annoying must it be to be one of Cube's friends? First you've got to put up with him talking up his acheivements like he's his own Sportscenter highlight reel. Then, he wins all of your money playing craps. By the time he's yelling "Domino!" I feel like the other guys sitting around the table are like, "Yo, Cube, don't you have two or three girls you could be having sex with right now?"
"It's ironic / I got the brew, she got the chronic" I think that even Alanis Morissette would have to file that under "Not at all ironic."
"And my dick runs deep, so deep / So deep put her ass to sleep" Uh, I'm not sure just how that works, but I'd just as soon not dwell on it.
"I even saw the lights of the Goodyear blimp / And it read 'Ice Cube's a Pimp'" Who on earth would purchase ad space to relay that message? Fess up, Cube: you bought that yourself, didn't you? I understand you probably got a bargain price, seeing as the blimp is flying over South Central after midnight, but it still reeks of desperation.

However, one piece of information does check out: it is possible to get a Fatburger in Los Angeles at two in the morning.

My New Hero

2009-08-14T14:51:00.001-04:00

DSC04581
Originally uploaded by granitepics

XPoNential Music Festival - We Could Stick Around and See this Night Through

2009-08-01T23:47:00.020-04:00

Aaaand we're back, with part two of the 2009 'XPN Fest coverage!

Before we get into that, though, I feel like I should make note of the biggest difference from previous festivals I attended: the insane crowds. I seem to remember being able to wander over to the second stage throughout the day and still find a spot of grass to sit with a decent view of the stage. Not so this year, when the previously ample grass quickly became just a mass of people on lawn chairs and picnic blankets. Annoying for me, to be sure, but more people buying tickets is certainly a good thing overall.Well, another day, another opening slot by a local artist whom I only know by name. In this case, it was Andrew Lipke. I only caught the tail-end of his set, but it was a little louder than I was expecting.Wow, the kids in Perkasie sure seemed to be having a great time. Their music isn't easy to categorize, although their blurb on WXPN's website calls it "vaudeville folk," which I suppose is as good a descriptor as any. There was lots of dancing, foot-stomping, washboard-playing, and I have to say that their energy was contagious.Donna the Buffalo was the jammiest band I saw play the festival and, not coincidentally, the one that bored me the most. Please, don't waste a perfectly good Bo Diddley beat by stretching it out to epic length and playing a string of nondescript solos over it. The audience seemed heavy on the aging hippie demographic, though, so I guess this wasn't supposed to appeal to me anyway.

This was, however, the third band to play an accordian after They Might Be Giants and the Hold Steady, which goes to show what a diverse instrument that can be.Eric, one-half of Wreckless Eric and Amy Rigby, is English? News to me!With Steve Forbert and the Windfall Prophets, we once again have a performer with an enthusiastic crowd and a single song that I recognize. He sounded kind of like he was slurring his words when he talked between songs, which was kind of amusing.I'll admit that I don't remember much about Serena Ryder's set, except that she mentioned a previous gig where it was "pissing rain," and then said that it was OK to say that because the language guidelines passed out to the artists said it was fine to say "piss" as long as it did not refer to bodily functions. This answered a question that I've always had, which is whether people performing live on the radio get a detailed list of what they can and can't say without incurring FCC fines. Guster went one step further and posted the whole memo on their Twitter. It's surprisingly -- and hilariously -- thorough.Speaking of foul language, the only knowledge I had about John Wesley Harding was that David Dye had once played his song "July 13th 1985," then had to apologize for not reading the lyrics ahead of time and letting "fuck" and "shit" go unbleeped. Anyway, it turns out that I really like this guy! He's got it all: an English accent, amusing anecdotes and banter (he remarked that he was doing a meet & greet later, which is unusual for him because he usually meets or greets, but rarely both), clever songs, and a singing voice that sounds a bit like Elvis Costello. He also brought Amy Rigby & Wreckless Eric onstage for a song, because those Brits all know each other or something.

(Oh! One more thing I like about John Wesley Harding: he calls his band the English UK, in a self-aware nod to the English Beat and Charlatans UK and any other British bands that have to change their names when they arrive in the States.)I only stuck around for a couple of songs, but I must say that the music of Gandalf Murphy is not nearly as dire as I was expecting it to be, considering that he's a guy named Gandalf who claims to hail from a imaginary country called Slambovia.
Aimee Mann got an extremely enthusiastic reception throughout her performance, and she seemed genuinely touched by all of the affection. She said at the beginning that she was doing a semi-unplugged thing, with two backup musicians switching among several instruments depending on the song, and she also said that she would be playing songs that she didn't typically play live. I love Aimee Mann, I really do, and she seems like such a genuinely nice, down-to-earth person, but I just wasn't really into her set. I think part of my problem is that I like her best when she's working with Jon Brion, and when you take away those lush arrangements, it robs the songs of a key element. Sorry, Aimee! I'll try to see you some other time and see if that works better for me.
My knowledge of Peter Bjorn and John doesn't go much deeper than their hits, which tend to be fairly mellow. Beyond that, I remember reading about a troubled set at this year's SXSW festival, so my expectations were fairly low; I thought that at best it would be a pleasant trifle, and at worst it would be a train wreck. Turns out that I had "Nothing to Worry About" (see what I did there?). Most of PB&J's songs rock harder than I would have expected, and in concert they turn into windmilling, stage-stalking rock gods. The highlight for me (and for most of the other people close to the stage, I'm betting) was during "Young Folks," when Peter jumped off the stage and sang most of the song while walking around in the pit.

No day of outdoor music would be complete without a torrential downpour, though, and dark clouds began rolling in as the roadies were setting up for Peter Bjorn and John's set. Fortunately, it didn't cut their performance short, even though by the time they left the stage it was the familiar mix of rain, wind, and lightning that I knew so well from the previous night. It was an unwelcome interruption, but it passed quickly, and the show did go on.
Here's a tip for any funk/R&B/soul bands out there: you can pack your set with as many original songs as you like, but as long as you open with a great cover of "I Want You Back," the audience is going to think you're the greatest thing ever. Take a lesson from The Revelations featuring Tre' Williams, who did just that. Their songs weren't bad, but nothing stuck with me the way those opening bars from the Jackson 5 did.

Guster is one of those bands that, at some point between when I entered college and when I graduated, became extremely popular with a certain subset of people. Unfortunately, that subset seemed to have a great deal of overlap with people who were huge fans of Dave Matthews, so I have always looked at them with a certain degree of skepticism. Seeing them live, though, has mostly cured me of that apprehension. I actually do enjoy the handful of Guster songs that I know, and the fact that they weren't jumping-off points for tedious jams was refreshing. (The band did briefly break into an intentionally tuneless improv for a little while, with the lead singer joking that this was what improvisation sounds like by people who don't know how to play.)

The music could not be much more different, but the surrounding me at the show reminded me a lot of the die-hard Hold Steady fans I'd encountered the previous night. Here were people who had memorized lyrics sheets and were enthusiastically singing along, and familiar with rituals that were foreign to me, like tossing ping-pong balls onstage. The fact that all but the most devoted fans had left during the storm lent the event a degree of intimacy that is extremely rare at a large outdoor festival, and being close to the stage, surrounded by the happy members of a tribe to which I did not belong, was a surprisingly joyous finish to my weekend.

XPoNential Music Festival - We Knew That We'd Arrived at a Unified Scene

2009-07-28T21:14:00.018-04:00

Last year I was underwhelmed by the lineup and skipped the whole thing, but last weekend I was back at Wiggins Park in Camden for WXPN's annual summer festival. As usual, I had both my camera (now with video capability!) and a sack full of devastatingly snarky put-downs. Actually, not so much the second part; as I was watching most of the performers, I realized that my comments could be boiled down to (1) I'm not really familiar with this singer/band, and (2) they are pleasant enough, but not especially memorable. To avoid repeating this point ad nauseum, I'll try to keep things nice and short.
Ah, the first Main Stage set of the day, which seems to always go to a local artist whose name I have heard a thousand times, but couldn't hum one of their tunes to save my life. This year, it was Sharon Little. Her band was well-dressed.
I don't think I'd ever heard of East Hundred before. I thought that they sounded a bit like Interpol, but it's hard to hold that against them since it's not like Interpol is doing a lot with their sound these days.
I was surprised by how early Yeasayer's set was scheduled; I remember "2080" getting some pretty heavy airplay last year. Then again, they did seem to fall off my radar rather quickly. If I had to guess, I'd say that since their sound is sort of reminiscent of TV on the Radio, they were filling a niche that disappeared once Dear Science was released in the fall. Anyway, their set was pretty good, and made me want to check out the rest of All Hour Cymbals. One highlight for me was that one of their two drummers (who was wearing a backpack for some reason) was, as far as I can remember, the only person I've seen play a drum kit while standing up. Judging by the amount of pale skin showing on the lead singer, though, I'd say that this is a band that is not accustomed to playing outdoors in the mid-afternoon.

(This is where I went to watch Illinois, who I missed last time I was here. Apparently, though, I didn't take any pictures of them, so it's pretty much like it never happened at all.)
I first became aware of Steve Wynn and the Miracle Three back in '06 when I heard their superbly catchy "Cindy It Was Always You" (co-written, strangely enough, by crime novelist/The Wire scribe George Pelecanos). I was surprised to see that Wynn himself is a bit older than I pictured him, and some rudimentary Googling reveals that he's had a career that stretches back to the early 80s. Those extra years didn't slow him down, though, as Wynn and his band turned in the most rock'n'roll show I'd seen thus far in the day. His guitarist was especially animated, at one point thrusting his guitar towards one of the amps and playing the feedback like a theremin. Steve was also the first (but not last) performer that I saw use the massive bank of loudspeakers stacked in the pit as an extension of the stage.Hey, are you a moderately talented local band looking to upgrade from the second stage and your crummy time slot? Just invite Kevin Bacon to join your band! It certainly worked for the Bacon Brothers. It's not really like these guys are worthy of great derision, but let's be honest: they wouldn't attract a crowd of nearly the same size if one of the members were not the star of Wild Things and Tremors. Heck, I went to see them in college just to say I was one degree away from the guy. But you've gotta give them credit for gaining the legitimacy that eluded Dogstar or 30 Odd Foot of Grunts. They also brought some Mummers onstage for their final song, which was a nice touch, even if you couldn't really hear them.

(OK, couple things I just learned on Wikipedia: 30 Odd Foot of Grunts changed its name in 2005 to The Ordinary Fear of God, and the Bacon Brothers are also a trio of feared Canadian gangsters.)

Here's the thing about Pete Yorn: I only own his first album, and aside from that I only know one of his songs ("Crystal Village"). And while I wouldn't rank musicforthemorningafter as one of my favorite records, every time I listen to it I find myself surprised by just how strong an album it is. Hearing those songs performed live (along with a great New Order cover), surrounded by some highly devoted fans, may have permanently recalibrated my opinion of him. Who knows, I might even pick up a second CD.

When I was actually at the show, I thought that his bassist (the guy at the right in that photo) looked a lot like Christian Bale, though I may have been wrong.
There's not a whole lot of overlap between stuff I liked when I was 9 and stuff I like today, but my affection for They Might Be Giants has remained a constant. I admit that I haven't paid as much attention to them in recent years, and while I'm probably not going to be picking up any of their children's CDs anytime soon, I certainly can't begrudge them the Grammy awards and (probable) sales figures that those projects have netted them. Judging from their set, their kiddie music is just as hooky and fun as the rest of their catalog, just with more educational lyrics (though even that's not such a big switch; this is, after all, a band that has taught me much about James K. Polk, James Ensor, dead uncle Allotheria, and the allegory of the people in the cave by the Greek guy). As with Pete Yorn, TMBG is one of those performers I tend to undervalue, until I realize that I know almost every song word-for-word, and once the band left, that there were a good half-dozen more songs that I wish they'd had time for. Plus: confetti cannons!Okay, enough of this prelude. The real reason I went to this thing was to see The Hold Steady, one of my favorite contemporary bands and, by all accounts, a group of tremendous performers. I overheard the haters out in force throughout the day, talking about how overrated the band was and that they sucked live, so I was nervously preparing myself to be disappointed. And in the end, I was a fairly let down, but it had nothing to do with the guys onstage.

So how is seeing the Hold Steady live different from listening to their albums? Well, musically, it's pretty much identical (albeit much louder, of course). This isn't a band that opens up their songs with extended solos or lots of vocal ad-libs. Rather, the Hold Steady live experience is defined by other things. First, there's keyboardist Franz Nikolai (above, in the snazzy white suit), he of the trademark mustache and between-songs mugging. On top of that, there's the hilarious vision of lead singer Craig Finn, a man who looks like more like a CPA than a rock frontman, strutting around the stage like Mick Jagger, gesturing and mouthing words at the audience, and singing his lyrics with such passion that you can see the spit flying out of his mouth. Perhaps the most memorable thing about this show, though, was being crowded among hundreds of die-hard fans who know every word to every song, and are not at all shy about belting them out. It's hard not to have a good time when you're surrounded by other people who are having a tremendous time.

So why the disappointment? Well, as the band played, the weather got more and more ominous, with rain starting to fall and the wind starting to blow. This all culminated during Tad Kubler's awesome guitar solo in "Lord, I'm Discouraged," as the wind sent leftover confetti swirling through the air, and the audience members had their hair blown back as though they were cartoon characters facing an extremely loud rock concert. It was an incredible moment. To give you an idea of how wild things were getting, here's a clip of the end of that song, plus the intro to "Hornets! Hornets!" Check out the rippling banner behind the stage, the debris blowing past the camera, the rain streaking across the spotlights, the wind noise, and the insane fervor of the crowd:

Sadly, after that song was over, the show had to be shut down due to some approaching thunderstorms (The storms never materialized, but I certainly don't fault the folks in charge for taking the cautious route). The band had already played for about an hour, and would probably have only had about thirty more minutes before the noise curfew went into effect. Still, it was sad to see a show that great end even a minute early.

The Big Tees

2009-07-26T00:13:00.000-04:00

Today's theme, around which I will construct a trio of bullet points: T-shirts!

Kottke recently wrote about Threadcakes, a website devoted to making cakes based on Threadless T-shirt designs. This achieves that delicate balance between brilliant and ridiculous.
And speaking of Threadless, I came across this shirt after I watched George Melies's classic silent film "A Trip to the Moon" on Monday night. I'm not crazy about the execution, but the concept is pretty cool.
Anyone looking to make me a late birthday present? I've decided that I want a shirt with a picture of the late founder of the Paris Review with the text "PLIMPTON AIN'T EASY." Alternately, I've always wanted a shirt that says "META IS MURDER," but I'm not sure what an appropriate image I could use with that one (maybe another shirt). I'd do this myself, but I have no idea how to print things on fabric.

You Simply Cannot Hide From the Ugly Truth

2009-07-23T00:41:00.002-04:00

The ads I've been seeing for that upcoming Katherine Heigl/Gerard Butler romantic comedy certainly don't make it look like anything special. (Men and women are different in some ways, and may have outlooks that are at odds with one another! Why, it's almost as if these two sexes are engaged in some sort of battle!) They have, however, reminded me that I haven't listened to Altered Beast in a really long time.

...And That's When My iPod Died

2009-07-22T20:18:00.001-04:00

Oh, I'd Like to Visit the Moon...

2009-07-20T19:25:00.003-04:00

OK, so I officially have MOON FEVER. All this business about the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 11 mission has me geeked like I'm nine years old again and reading about NASA for the first time. Kottke's giant Apollo 11 post is pretty thorough, so I'm just gonna link to that and suggest that you play around over there for a while. As for me, I plan to check out the recently reissued For All Mankind on Turner Classic Movies tonight.

I've been wasting a lot of time recently reading up on the various space missions on Wikipedia, and it's become clear to me that there's a ton of stuff that I had no knowledge of. For example: the Fallen Astronaut memorial left on the moon in 1971, the Apollo 15 postage stamp scandal which involved Apollo 13 astronaut Fred Haise, and the moon trees grown from seeds that were taken on Apollo 14 (one of which is in Washington Square; I know what I'm doing next time I'm in the city).

Also did you ever stop to think that people have walked on the damn moon? Crazy.

UPDATE: I forgot to mention the icon that Google street view is using today.

And That's the Way It Was

2009-07-17T23:10:00.003-04:00

Legendary news anchor Walter Cronkite died today at the age of 92.

I'm too young to have any personal memories of Cronkite's nightly presence on television, but I have lately been thinking of two very famous moments in which he, when on the air, briefly took off his glasses during very emotional news. One was a moment of tragedy:

The other, a moment of triumph:

I've never lived in a world where people hadn't walked on the moon, but that giddy "Oh boy!" Cronkite lets out is probably how I would have felt watching the landing that night.

Spin the Black Circle

2009-07-15T19:28:00.004-04:00

Last weekend was the summer edition of R5 Productions' Punk Rock Flea Market, meaning that it's been approximately one year since I started compulsively buying vinyl (and about 3 months since I was able to listen to it). Between the big event at the Starlight Ballroom and the Philadelphia Record Fair at Penn's Institute of Contemporary Art the previous day, I went a little bit crazy. That's both the beauty and the curse of buying records; it's easy to find a lot of cheap stuff (the most I spent on any one item was $10), but even at $4 a pop, those things start to add up.

I try to limit my purchases to albums that I know (or expect) that I will actually enjoy listening to. So, while it's tempting to pick up anything with a hilarious cover, I mostly pass up those opportunities. Here's a wistful look back at the things I didn't buy:

Trek Bloopers - A whole album of Kirk, Spock and all the rest flubbing their lines: who wouldn't love that? And check out that cover art, which features Spock (inexplicably) licking a lollipop.

Hulk Rules - I had just recently come across the hilariously overwrought song "American Made" in the A.V. Club's list of hyperpatriotic songs. I doubt the rest of this musical tribute to Hulk Hogan can measure up, but you never know.

I'm in You - The cover of this Peter Frampton record has been a favorite of mine for a while now. Where to begin? The smoldering look he's giving the person holding the album? The buttonless, patchwork pirate blouse? The gratuitous crotch shot? Or the cringingly matter-of-fact sexual title, positioned so that it looks like it should be contained in a speech bubble coming out of Pete's mouth?

...And That's When My iPod Died

2009-07-06T19:54:00.002-04:00

It's a Two-fer, um, Monday.

And now, for something completely different:

Deeper Into Movies

2009-07-03T21:48:00.004-04:00

So Netflix added a new feature recently, where instead of just rating movies or genres, you could specify how much you like certain storylines, sub-genres, or films from a particular decade. I decided to try this out yesterday, since the site hasn't had any recommendations for me these past few weeks. Their recommendations algorithm must have reached the same level of frustration in figuring out what I want that it took me over two decades to perfect.

Some of the categories are fairly amusing in their own right; there must be someone out there who really loves movies about boating (not swashbuckling maritime adventures, mind you, but movies about the sport of boating). And, on the other end of the spectrum, there must be people who don't enjoy movies about monkeys.

The real puzzler, though, is the examples they give your for each category. Here, for instance, are the six movies chosen to exemplify alcoholism (and really, who doesn't love a good flick about alcoholism?):
Yeah, I'd say that sums up the many faces of addiction rather nicely: fighting, talking to giant invisible rabbits, suicidal despair, and Dudley Moore.

Also, I really don't think Netflix knows what a screwball comedy is:

Another good one that I didn't bother to get a screenshot of: the summer camp category, which includes the drama-nerd movie Camp, the fundamentalism documentary Jesus Camp, Daddy Day Camp, Friday the 13th, and Wet Hot American Summer, a group of movies that, aside from their setting, have nothing else in common.

...And That's When My iPod Died

2009-07-03T17:19:00.001-04:00

Massive Attack - Safe From Harm

How a Jeopardy! Audition Really Feels

2009-06-24T21:24:00.004-04:00

As alluded to in my previous post, I went up to New York City yesterday. The purpose of my trip was [drumroll] to participate in a contestant search for the popular game show ~~Paris Hilton's My New BFF~~ Jeopardy! (the exclamation mark is the show's, not mine). I had sort of been through this before, having taken part in a tryout for the College Tournament nine years ago (holy crap, I just used the phrase "nine years ago" in conjunction with "college"). Those, however, were the days before the online test, so the first order of business was a 50-question written test that was then scored, prompting all but a handful of the highest-scoring hopefuls to be dismissed (in case you're wondering, I did make it past that step). Nowadays, though, the online test has supplanted that step, meaning that if you get an invite to audition, you won't be unceremoniously booted just after you begin.

The 50-question test still exists, though, presumably to weed out anybody who faked their way through the test using the help of other people in the room or incredibly fast Googling skills. The test itself was fairly easy (although I was forbidden to to divulge any of the questions under pain of death) and I think I only got maybe 4 or 5 questions wrong. The thing about being in a room with other Jeopardy! fanatics, though, is that everyone else got only 4 or 5 questions wrong as well.

On to the next step, which is a mock game. A mini-version of the familiar game board is projected on a screen, and three people at a time take hold of the buzzers and answer questions (or, uh, question answers to be more specific). They don't keep score, so the purpose is really to get a sense of what sort of contestant you would be. I was in the last trio to play, which was actually a relief, since it gave me a chance to observe what everyone else was like before I had to go myself. I think I acquitted myself fairly well in this segment; I managed to buzz in a few times, didn't get anything embarrassingly wrong (last time I tried out, I foolishly said that Prince was from Milwaukee) and, perhaps most importantly, the producer never had to remind me to speak up.

Next came the interview portion, which was my biggest worry. Some of the other people in the room were a lawyer who represented plaintiffs in Americans with Disabilities Act lawsuits, a teaching artist who had taken part in a taping of Def Poetry Jam, and a children's TV writer who had just been nominated for a Daytime Emmy. Compared to that, my tales of juggling and my paltry record collection didn't seem that impressive (not that they ever really did). Fortunately, the interviews seemed to follow the same format: they would ask about your job, ask about what you do in your free time, ask about one of the personal facts or anecdotes that you listed ahead of time, and ask what you would do with the money if you won. From that I was able to plan a few sentences ahead of time for each prompt, and while I might not have said anything memorable, I at least avoided any awkward silences.

So that's basically the gist of it. I think I came across pretty well (though there were a few people in the room who seemed like they would certainly be invited to tape the show). I'm now in their contestant files, which is good for the next 18 months. If I haven't gotten a call by that point, I guess that's my cue to start all over again.

Potpourri:

No, Alex does not show up at these things. He said hello to us in a short video, though.
I though I was impressive because I'd tried out once before, and then found out that one of the other people at the audition had tried out four times (some of the repeat auditioners almost sounded like they were old friends with the people from the show). Likewise, I thought it was notable that a co-worker of mine was almost a contestant, until I met people whose wives or grandmothers had actually appeared on the show.
The aforementioned TV writer used to work on Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? which prompted a discussion of what current game shows are worth watching. Turns out the Jeopardy! people are fans of Cash Cab.
Of the five pieces of information that I submitted, the one I had to talk about was my Quizzo playing. Unfortunately, the question only concerned whether I was better or worse at trivia games when I've been drinking, so I didn't get to shout out to the Pre-Teen Pregnancy Pact or describe the larger-than-life personality of Irish John.
This is only tangentially related, but the contestant search ended at around 5:30, and I was looking to get a bite to eat and maybe a beer before my train ride home. This proved easier said than done, since it seemed like 75% of the drinking establishments in Midtown Manhattan are corporate touristy chains, and the rest looked like obnoxious sports bars or cookie-cutter Irish pubs. Eventually, I walked past one windowless generic-looking bar just off of 7th Avenue, less than a block away from Madison Square Garden. "Sure," I thought, "this place looks like a dive, but I'm sure when I open the door it'll be crawling with hipsters." Except on the inside . . . it still looked like a dive, or at least a quiet, unassuming shot-and-beer joint. There was a grandfatherly bartender, and maybe 5 other people sitting at the bar, mostly reading the paper or concentrating on a certain syndicated quiz show playing on the TV. I have no idea how a place like that stays in business, given that it's occupying some of the most expensive real estate in the world.
And while I'm critiquing New York: Times Square + summer + tourists = HOLY SHIT.

...And That's When My iPod Died

2009-06-24T20:26:00.002-04:00

I finally got the old girl working again, but my train ride to and from New York yesterday gave her multiple chances to freeze up.

Oh, Zoidberg, at last you're becoming a crafty consumer! I'll take eight!

2009-06-20T15:03:00.003-04:00

For a limited time, Amazon MP3 has 99 Essential Chants on sale for the low, low price of 99 cents! That's only a penny per chant! Act now!

Mom and Dad, Where Did You Go Wrong?

2009-06-11T00:36:00.003-04:00

You know what's kind of depressing? I have have become the sort of person who is highly amused by webcomics with jokes about fonts.

(You know what's even worse? I was once thinking of starting a blog devoted to my endless frustration with Papyrus.)

Speaking in Acid Tongues

2009-06-06T14:58:00.008-04:00

Walking onto the stage at the Mann Center Friday night, clad in a white suit that matched both his bandmates and his hair, David Byrne approached the microphone and took a few moments to chat up the audience. Before a single note was played, he thanked everyone for coming out, acknowledged opening act DeVotchka, and invited the crowd to take photos if they wanted (while kindly pointing out that using a flash was likely futile for those of us in the cheap seats). It was an adorably awkward introduction that seemed like it was better suited for open-mic night at a coffeehouse than an amphitheater show by a post-punk godfather.

The setlist drew from Byrne's collaborations with Brian Eno, including last year's quite good Everything That Happens Will Happen Today, the pioneering, sample-heavy LP My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, and the albums that Eno produced for the Talking Heads. I'll leave you to guess which of those selections got the biggest response from the audience. (And I certainly don't mean for that to be an indictment of the crowd's collective taste: do you want to argue with songs like "Once in a Lifetime," "Burning Down the House" or "Life During Wartime"? Didn't think so.) I was happy that Fear of Music, my favorite Talking Heads album, was well-represented by "Wartime," "I Zimbra" and "Heaven." Byrne introduced the latter song by saying that he was attempting to write a song with verses that sounded like Neil Young, a fact that will make it impossible to ever hear that song any other way.

I'll admit that I've never seen Stop Making Sense (cue jeering), so I wasn't entirely sure what to expect from Byrne as a the performer. The fact that he had a trio of white-clad dancers might have seemed out of place had I not heard about them beforehand. I was amused though, by the extent to which Byrne himself joined in the fun: at one point, one of the dancers slid between his legs, then later, one leaped over his back. Also a cute touch: "Life is Long" is perhaps the only song I've seen performed from a swivel chair.

---------------------------

Less than 72 hours after seeing a fifty-something, white-haired man perform in a large Fairmount Park amphitheater on a rainy, unseasonably chilly night, I was seeing a thirty-something, redheaded woman perform in a small Chinatown club on a hot night. Jenny Lewis was the headliner this time around, but half of her backing band were opening the show under the name Farmer Dave. Have you ever heard the sloppy, impromptu cover songs that Yo La Tengo plays during WFMU pledge drives? Yeah, it was sort of like that.

Deer Tick was more to my liking. Judging by their name, I had assumed that they were some mellow, backwoods country group, the sort of animal that survives by sucking the blood of Fleet Foxes or Band of Horses. In reality, they play straightforward, dirty rock 'n roll that never overstays its welcome. Though they hail from Rhode Island, lead singer John McCauley's gravelly voice reminded me a lot of Patterson Hood of the Drive-By Truckers. The band had enough fans in the audience to entertain some requests at the end of their set (which also included some pretty rockin' John Mellencamp and Ritchie Valens covers).

So, let's get this out of the way first: Jenny Lewis looked very pretty, wearing mom jeans and one of the T-shirts from her merch stand. (Refreshingly, the crowd seemed quite respectful and refrained from shouting out any creepy comments) And her band, for which I had so little affection in their previous incarnation, sounded much more professional this time around. I haven't heard most of Acid Tongue, her most recent album, but I can honestly say that I didn't hear a bad song all night. The highlight for me, though, was when most of her band left the stage and she performed "Trying My Best to Love You" and "Silver Lining," which, stripped of its glossy production, became a showcase for Ms. Lewis's gorgeous voice. [Removed in editing: rambling story about the first time I heard the song "I Never" and how it, like, changed my life.]

---------------------

So I saw two really good performances by artists that I admire. Ah, but it can never be that simple can it? As usual, there were some circumstances unrelated to the actual music that kept me from fully enjoying the shows.

As I mentioned, I was in the cheap seats for David Byrne. What bothered me was just how empty those seats were. My entire row was pretty much deserted, and there were vast open spaces in the rows in front of and behind me. It's not that I enjoy being crowded, but I felt more like I was in a porno theater than watching a rock show. It's easy to stand up and cheer when everyone around you is doing it; its a bit more awkward when you're practically in a library.

The opposite was true at Jenny Lewis -- that place was fucking packed. No, this one was my fault, as I forgot the golden rule of standing-room-only gigs: once a band is on stage and you've left the bar area, you do not go back! Spreading your drinking out over the evening will result in you watching the show from the back of the room, which is exactly what happened to me. It wasn't that bad, since it was quite a bit cooler the farther you got from the stage (though, on the other hand, the noise from the fans that were providing that breeze could be heard during the quieter moments).

No, the biggest problem here was that I was constantly distracted by the guy in front of me. He did not dance. He did not (from all appearances) sing along. He didn't bob his head, or tap his foot or even so much as applaud during the entire set. What possesses someone to buy a ticket to rock concert and then act as though they observing an art exhibition? Unless you are on rumspringa and this is your fist exposure to the devil's music, there is no excuse for such behavior.

And They Go Tweet, Tweet, Tweet, Tweet, Tweet Like Little Birds

I thought DeVotchka's score for Little Miss Sunshine was one of the best parts of that movie, but I found it hard to care about their opening set. I have to respect them, though, for throwing out a whole lot of stuff that I should have loved, like a sousaphone, a theremin solo, and a cover of "Venus in Furs" that disposed of everything from the Velvet Underground's recording but the lyrics.

Introducing one song, Jenny Lewis said that it was about catching the clap from Lindsay Lohan, but then quickly took that back. Those crimson-haired former child actresses gotta look out for each other.
I stopped by the afterparty at the Troc balcony in the hopes that Jenny would show up, I would charm her with my wit, and she would immediately invite me to follow her around on tour. That, um, didn't happen. I did regret that I didn't stick with my music lessons, though, when I saw her Napoleon Dynamite lookalike bassist chatting up two of the cuter girls there.

Ownage in 140 Characters

2009-06-05T00:58:00.002-04:00

Shaq and Ashton are both wack as fuck; I just found out that Zodiac Motherfucker is on Twitter. For someone whose schtick is so limited, I swear this guy keeps getting more and more hilarious.

Dancing Mania, 2009 Edition

2009-06-04T01:15:00.002-04:00

The quality's not great and it's shaky as hell, but this is so much better than all those viral videos of elaborately choreographed "spontaneous" dance sequences in public places.

I am making it my mission this summer to single-handedly start dance parties wherever I go.

Things I Learned from Cartoons

2009-05-28T00:12:00.002-04:00

So I've been reading the strange, strangely amusing webcomic Achewood recently. It's pretty much the definition of an acquired taste, and one which I'm still in the process of acquiring. I was skeptical of it at first, but this strip, in which a character named Charley has travelled back in time (yeah, I'm not entirely clear on that point either) and nearly causes a riot by introducing the nacho, made me a believer. What can I say? I'm a sucker for people who talk old-timey and go into an exaggerated panic at the sight of anything unfamiliar.

Except it turns out that such a panic may not be that exaggerated. Soon after reading the strip, I learned that mass hysteria gripped London in 1797 after a man walked outside wearing a top hat. John Hetherington was arrested and charged with:

“appearing on the public highway wearing upon his head a tall structure having a shining lustre and calculated to frighten timid people.” According to contemporary reports, people booed, dogs barked, women fainted, and a small boy suffered a broken arm after a crowd formed around the hapless Mr. Hetherington.

The fiendish culprit was fined and top hats were banned in the city for a half-century afterwards. Seriously, there is nothing I don't love about this story. The writers at The Onion can only dream of writing archaic police blotters that are so amusing.

In other cartoon news, fans of Futurama will recall that Philip J. Fry is a proud dropout of Coney Island College (Go Whitefish!). But did you know that 100 years ago, there actually was a Coney Island College? Actually, it wasn't a real college so much as a clever way for an amusement park to get around blue laws by calling itself an educational institution and having its workers dress in caps and gowns.

Amusing Coincidence of the Day

2009-05-28T00:08:00.002-04:00

There's a play currently being performed at the Prince Music Theater with the title Let's Pretend We're Married.

Double Feature

2009-05-27T21:10:00.002-04:00

A couple of recent developments in movie-watching options that I just became aware of:

The film website The Auteurs curates a monthly "film festival," which consists of a selection of Criterion titles. Which are available to stream to your computer. For free. May's almost over, but if you hurry you can catch a half-dozen essential documentaries.
Those of you living in Delco might be interested in Cinema 16:9, a new movie theater/video rental that somehow snuck into Lansdowne recently. There are a coupld of drawbacks: the schedule of films seems to focus on recent DVD releases, and 35mm snobs will probably not approve, but on the other hand, it's not like repertory houses are a dime a dozen in this (or any) economy.

(While I'm on the subject of movies, I'll mention that The Room is screening for free this Saturday at Space 1026 in Philadelphia. Be there with your spoons and footballs, and don't forget to study up on the rules.)

Can't Stand It

2009-05-25T00:19:00.004-04:00

I actually gasped when I read this piece of truly lousy news: Jay Bennett, the ~~founding~~ longtime* member of Wilco who famously left the band during the recording of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, has died at the age of 45.

Rest in Peace, Jay. Being There was always my favorite.

(Though YHF is a close second)

*Turns out that Bennett was not technically a founding member of the band, as he joined right after they recorded A.M.

Watching the Detective

2009-05-22T19:51:00.003-04:00

Things in the trailer for Sherlock Holmes that look promising: at no point does the title character wear a deerstalker cap, which Arthur Conan Doyle never described him wearing. Also, Robert Downey Jr. is usually entertaining.

Things in the trailer for Sherlock Holmes that don't look promising: everything else.

I'm the King of Rock, There is None Higher

2009-05-19T22:23:00.002-04:00

Today's strange Wikipedia article: a list of honorific titles in popular music. It should come in handy when you find yourself confused about the Godfather of Punk vs. the Godfather of Punk Guitar vs. the King of Punk.

Unfortunately, the criteria for inclusion are rather slight; since one writer has referred to Usher as the Prince of R&B, that's all it takes for him to be on the list (and shouldn't that title go to, you know, Prince?). Plus, there are no fewer than 9 claimants to the title "Princess of Pop." Frankly, it's a miracle that we've managed to avoid a bloody War of the Roses-style battle for the throne.

...And That's When My iPod Died

2009-05-18T20:40:00.002-04:00

In fact, my iPod didn't immediately start charging when I plugged it in afterwards, and for a few minutes I thought it had died for good, which would have made for a strangely fitting swan song.

This is the Worst Trip I've Ever Been On

2009-05-17T22:52:00.002-04:00

The Dewey Decimal system being what it is, I suppose it's not too unusual to find Into the Wild in the travel section of my local library, nestled between some more conventional guides to Alaska. I've only seen the movie, but I'd suggest that you not rely on that book as anything but cautionary tale.

Fun With Wikipedia

2009-05-14T00:27:00.003-04:00

Oh, you Lost nerds just can't help yourselves, can you? (Click to enlarge)

Put On Your Headphones Before You Explode

2009-05-14T00:05:00.002-04:00

I don't really have a lot of traditions, but (dating back to A Ghost is Born) every time Wilco starts streaming their new album, I've stayed up late that night to listen to the thing. You really ought to do the same, since I really, really like what I've heard so far. It's like they took all the best parts of Sky Blue Sky, made everything punchier, and added some eclectic instrumentation and a Feist cameo. This is a strong contender for my soundtrack to the Summer of '09.

I also like the many purchase options available, in case you'd like a tote bag to carry around your new purchase and a T-shirt with iron-on letters for the back. It's true what they say: Wilco will love ya, baby.

Lost on the Lonely Island

2009-05-12T23:21:00.002-04:00

Does anyone else think that Justin Timberlake, when he's in his "Dick in a Box"/"Mother Lover" costume, looks exactly like Dominic Monaghan?

While I'm on the subject of Lost cast members: I finally watched Werner Herzog's Rescue Dawn this weekend. That's a really good movie, and Jeremy Davies manages to steal scenes from Christian Bale like his name's Heath Ledger. There's a lot of disturbing stuff in that film (as one would expect from a tale of POWs who are tortured and starved before escaping into a jungle that's even harsher than their prison camp), but the thing that stuck with me the most was the sight of Mr. Davies without his shirt on, looking like he weighs all of 45 pounds. On top of that, Pierre Chang turns up in a small role, too. (Not Lost-related, but interesting nonetheless: one of the movie's producers is Sixers forward Elton Brand.)

If I may point out the obvious, I'm totally geeked about a certain season finale airing tomorrow night, to the point where I'm considering liveblogging it.

A Tale of Three Cities (with Pictures!)

2009-05-09T00:40:00.003-04:00

Things have been pretty quiet around here lately, huh? I admit that I'm not quite sure why that is; usually when a blogger apologizes for low output, it's a prelude to announcing a book deal or something, but I'm afraid I have no such exciting news. I did finally bite the bullet and get a commenter account over at the A.V. Club, which serves as a useful outlet for my many short observations that I would be otherwise trying to pad out to blog-post length.

Anyway, to get you caught up, here's a quick recap of where I've been these past few weeks:

1) [of] Montreal

I've been meaning to see of Montreal for a long time; any band where the frontman might make his entrance on a white horse or perform in the nude is probably worth catching live. Nothing quite so outlandish happened at the Trocadero on April 22, but considering the show still included various costumed animals (including the dapper, tiger-headed fellow above) and strange leotard-wearing figures, plus trippy visuals projected on screen behind the band, it was hardly a dull affair either.

I was watching from my usual spot on the floor, and let me tell you: nothing gets the party started like dark lyrics of psychological meltdown married to poppy, danceable melodies. Despite that, I can see the appeal of watching this show from a distance, the better to take in all of the bizarre skits playing out around the band; the overall effect was like a Flaming Lips show directed by Max Fischer.

2) Alexandria

Last week was the second time I've had to travel to Alexandria, VA for my job. Not much to report about that place, which I'm sure is a perfectly nice place to live. My hotel room did have a nice view of the Capitol dome:

(Note: Photo has been zoomed in to an absurd degree.)

You probably can't read that, but it says, "Unplug iron before storing." There were no power outlets near the iron holder, so you'd have to really be determined to put away your still-burning iron for that to be an effective warning.

Boy, that swine flu sure is in the news a lot, huh? I saw this on CNN as I arrived at my hotel room, and couldn't help but laugh. Yes, Jack Cafferty, in the 24 hours I had been aware of swine flu at that point, I feel it's safe to say that my life will never be the same.

3) Philadelphia

One of the odd perks of my job is that, from time to time, I get invited to go to events at places I would ordinarily never go. That's the only reason I've been to a pricey steakhouse, gone barhopping on St. Patrick's Day, or spent an evening at an overpriced, self-consciously trendy lounge. It's also why earlier this week I went to XIX, the swanky lounge on the nineteenth floor of the Bellevue/Park Hyatt in Philadelphia. I though I might be able to get some nice photos from the balcony, but it was a foggy, rainy night and things didn't really work out that way:

(I was hoping this would have a cool, Blade Runner look about it. Who knows: maybe if Jordan Cronenweth had shot that film with a cheap digital camera on a hotel balcony, this is how it would have turned out.)
I guess I should have stuck to taking pictures inside, like this giant pearl necklace chandelier thing that was hanging from the ceiling.
(If you think those are big, you should see the oyster!)

See You in the Funny Pages

2009-05-05T22:20:00.001-04:00

I don't know how I've managed to avoid the Perry Bible Fellowship for so long, but that is some strange, twisted, hilarious stuff (Plus, the artwork is head-and-shoulders above any other webcomic I've seen).

...And That's When My iPod Died

2009-04-25T00:26:00.001-04:00

Foo Fighters - Everlong (I couldn't embed the video, but you really ought to click over and watch it anyway)

Music From a Found Orchestra

2009-04-19T21:51:00.004-04:00

Have you heard of the Penguin Cafe Orchestra? I hadn't before last night, when I was trying to track down the name of a lovely, familiar-sounding piece of music that played during an old episode of This American Life. After some searching, I determined that the piece of music was "Perpetuum Mobile" by the aforementioned Penguin Cafe Orchestra:

I happened to remember that song in a commercial (for what, I couldn't tell you). But that's not the only Penguin Cafe Orchestra work you most likely recognize. Take a listen to "Telephone and Rubber Band":

Those first few bars were immediately familiar to anyone who listened to the radio around 1995, since they were sampled by Spacehog for their song "In the Meantime."

There's plenty more floating around YouTube, and Wikipedia tells me that the group's music is popular in film, television, and commercials. That's hardly surprising, since everything I've heard sounds like some unreleased film soundtrack, combining the eccentric instrumentation of Jon Brion with the hypnotic repetition of Phillip Glass.

Unfortunately, there's a sad coda to my new discovery: Simon Jeffes, the founder of the orchestra, died in 1997 of a brain tumor.

It's Either This or a Video of "Taxman"

2009-04-15T23:46:00.004-04:00

I guess if I don't upload this photo today, it'll have to wait until next fiscal year:

(In related news...)

Two Things That Were Surprising and One That Was Not

2009-04-13T21:20:00.002-04:00

1.) Atrios is modeling on the cover of the City Paper, looking every inch the dandy.

2.) The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, a movie I have very little interest in seeing, is going to be released on DVD by Criterion. Since I have a long term goal of watching every Criterion release, I guess this means I'll eventually get around to seeing it after all. Unfortunately, like other contemporary, mainstream Criterion discs, the cover art is pretty blah (which is especially disappointing since the art on the special edition of David Fincher's Zodiac is quite awesome).

3.) As for the non-surprise, did you hear that Fox is fucking around with Dollhouse, the getting-better-every-week Joss Whedon science fiction series currently airing on Friday nights? Of course, this is a lot worse than the situation with Firefly, the key difference being that I'm watching this time around.

Who is the King of Carrot Flowers?

2009-04-08T19:11:00.003-04:00

So, what's indie-rock recluse Jeff Mangum been up to lately? It looks like he moved to Louisville, got a job at a car rental company, and made it onto Jeopardy!

...And That's When My iPod Died

2009-04-07T22:44:00.000-04:00

Life Out of Balance

2009-04-05T23:34:00.002-04:00

If you're looking for a good dose of whiplash, try watching Koyaanisqatsi on Hulu. Every ten minutes or so, the montage of images depicting the ills of modern society is interrupted by ads for fast food, cars, and cell phones.

(If you've seen the film, I hope that you find the presence of a section titled "Plot" on its Wikipedia page as amusing as I do.)

Terrible Lie

2009-04-02T00:41:00.002-04:00

The image of Trent Reznor wearing Kanye shades, and the idea of Nine Inch Nails collaborating with Sheryl Crow on a song called "Pussygrinder," just made my (April Fool's) day.

My Old School

2009-03-26T23:36:00.003-04:00

I don't know how I managed to miss this, given my obsessions with any mention of schools I've attended or places I've lived, but it looks like my alma mater made a bit of news about a month ago. The synopsis: College Republicans bring Ann Coulter to speak on campus (because that's what they do), protests ensue, some student gets arrested for disrupting Coulter's speech, arrest is captured on video, kid becomes campus cause celebre.

I'm no authority on protesting strategies; when I was in school and some fundamentalist preacher or anti-abortion group was hanging around on campus, I tended to walk very quickly in the opposite direction. Still, if you're going to get arrested for a cause, I hope it's something more important than Ann fucking Coulter.

Do Believe the Hype

2009-03-25T21:44:00.003-04:00

When the dire economy forced the Roots to take an unglamorous nine-to-five job, I figured that the Roots Picnic would wind up being a one-off deal. No way would Mr. Fallon, their taskmaster of a boss, smile on them taking a couple of days off so early in their tenure.

Little did I know, the Roots picnic will not only be back this summer, but it's got a lineup that's even more awesome and eclectic than last year's. In addition to the Roots, there's TV on the Radio, the Black Keys, Santigold (who perhaps will have an easier time showing up than Santogold did last year) and Public Enemy. Performing It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back. With the Roots and Antibalas as their backing band. To borrow a phrase: Yeah, boyeeeeeeee.

Puzzlingly, fratboy minstrel act Asher Roth will be there as well, presumably so Flavor Flav is spared being the most-booed performer of the day (Do you think Flav can set his giant clock so it'll count down from 15 minutes?).

While I'm on the subject of the Roots, this month's issue of Wax Poetics has a good interview with ?uestlove. Fittingly, he discusses his love of It Takes a Nation of Millions (along with Three Feet High and Rising and Paul's Boutique). Even better, though is a profile of veteran radio DJ Sonny Hopson, which is one of the most wildly entertaining things I've read in a long time. It looks like a newer issue just came out, so hurry up before it's gone.

Angel is the Centerfold

2009-03-23T20:58:00.002-04:00

Did you hear that Playboy has a website [link is so totally NSFW] of full scans of a few dozen issues from their archives? At last -- pornography on the internet!

As with real life, though, the important part isn't the naked ladies, but the things that happen between the naked ladies. There are great vintage ads (check out the selections you can get from those records clubs!), those fabled "articles," cartoons by Shel Silverstein (including his delightfully subversive "Uncle Shelby's ABZ Book"), and more casual misogyny on a single page than in an entire season of Mad Men.

Interestingly, the covers of early issues of Playboy seem to seem to have had a "horrifying anthropomorphised rabbit" design aesthetic. I wonder why they abandoned that for their standard "photos of scantily-dressed or nude women."

Looking Up

2009-03-18T20:18:00.002-04:00

Branislav Kropilak's photos of billboards are quite impressive, and show how looking at a familiar object from a strange angle can make them completely alien. These could be spaceship launch tubes from some science-fiction movie.

...And That's When My iPod Died

2009-03-16T19:46:00.001-04:00

If I Had a Rupee for My Thoughts I'd Be a Millionaire

2009-03-08T23:42:00.005-04:00

Now that the critics top-ten lists have been published and forgotten and the Academy Awards statuettes distributed, I suppose it's finally time to make known my opinion of 2008's most-honored film, Slumdog Millionaire: I didn't much like it.

Don't get me wrong; there was lots to like about the movie. It won 8 Oscars, and it richly deserved most of them. Danny Boyle's direction, the editing and cinematography, and (especially) the music all keep the film moving; the disappointing thing is that it's all in service of a plot built on a mountain of contrivances and a love story that never once felt natural.

At one point in the film one character warns another that Maman, the most despicable of the movie's many villains, "never forgets a face," but he's not the only one. I quickly lost track of how many characters immediately recognized each other after years of separation. This flaw carries over to the central relationship between Jamal and Latika; this is supposed to be some grand love story, but the two characters only share the briefest of encounters followed by multi-year separations. I know that The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was last year's film that was criticized for being a retread of Forrest Gump, but if the Slumdog couple's absurdly punctuated romance brought anything to my mind, it was Forrest and Jenny's similarly choppy plot.

The framing device (or rather, framing device within a framing device) that gives the film its title is the Indian version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?, on which Jamal is an unlikely contestant. These game show scenes contained another major flaw for me: maybe it's a result of spending a lot of time watching that show when I was a Freshman in college, but I kept wanting to shout at the screen, "That's not how it works!" OK, I can accept that the Indian TV show may have different rules, but on a live broadcast, would they really let the contestant take a bathroom break in the middle of the show? And if they did, wouldn't they take some basic precautions, like not letting the host walk into the bathroom as well and have a leisurely chat with said contestant?

As the contestant in question, Dev Patel has a certain blankness. That works to his character's favor when he needs to appear as a nervous game-show contestant, but not so well in the rest of the film. The explanation for Jamal's unlikely success is the repeated phrase "It's written," making him less and actor than an object for outside forces to act upon. As a Lost fan, it may be hypocritical for me to say this, but I have trouble caring about a narrative that places so much emphasis on the idea of fate.

That's not to say the film is entirely without merit. The first third of the film casts an unblinking eye on the horrific violence and poverty in Jamal's early life; while these scenes are immensely difficult to watch, they also lend the film a gravity that is largely missing later on. On the other end of the spectrum, a comic scene as Jamal impersonates a tour guide at the Taj Mahal is one of the few points of the movie that I laughed out loud. Unsurprisingly, though, most of the highlights are the result of Danny Boyle's considerable talent at matching up images and music. These include the opening credits (a chase through the Mumbai slums set to the Oscar-nominated "O..Saya"), a montage set on a train with the ubiquitous "Paper Planes," and the big-finish, a non sequitor Bollywood dance sequence (set to the Oscar-winning song "Jai Ho"). It's just a shame that the rest of the film never feels as alive as those moments.

Dear Catholic Church:

2009-03-05T23:28:00.003-05:00

I'm blaming you guys and your arbitrary no-meat rules for that endlessly irritating McDonald's commercial with the shout-singing fish.

Lent doesn't have to be about greasy fast-food sandwiches, though. Behold: fish scrapple!

(P.S. - "Filet O' Fish" is an anagram for "foil fetish.")

Pilot Season

2009-02-24T23:32:00.003-05:00

Of all the qualities exhibited by Capt. Chesley B. "Sully" Sullenberger -- grace under pressure, impeccable honesty, all-around humility and niceness -- you can add good timing. If you're going to heroically ditch a plane in the Hudson River, you may as well do it in early January, when you can rack up invitations to the presidential inauguration, Super Bowl, (don't-call-it-a) State of the Union address, and, perhaps strangest of all, Vanity Fair's Oscar party. I find it incredibly endearing (if unsurprising) that at a party attended by world-famous movie stars, Sully was hanging out with Buzz Aldrin.

(Incidentally, how did Buzz Aldrin get himself invited to a post-Oscar party? Was he just there so Sully would have someone to talk to?)

Also, apparently Sacha Baron Cohen, Seth Rogen, Jason Segal, Rashida Jones, Aziz Ansari, et al were standing off to the side cracking jokes all night. What the hell? Do people not record video at these events?

"I don't vote Republican or Democrat. Choosing is a sin, so I always just write in the Lord's name."

2009-02-24T22:46:00.002-05:00

Watching the Republican response to Obama's address tonight, I remarked that Bobby Jindal reminds me of Kenneth the Page. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who picked up on this.

And, just so I'm being bipartisan with my trivial observations, I'll mention that the seemingly always-smiling Sen. Roland Burris reminds me of a guy who managed to sneak his way into a championship-winning team's locker room. He looks like someone who can't quite believe where he is and is amazed at his own brazen method of getting there, not caring that the cops will be there any minute to drag him away.

There Are Two Kinds of People in the World...

2009-02-19T21:01:00.002-05:00

If you've never seen The O'Reilly Factor, (1) keep up the good work, and (2) know that one of Bill O'Reilly's recurring segments is called ~~"Cheers & Jeers"~~ ~~"Tip O' the Hat, Wag of the Finger"~~ "Pinheads & Patriots." If you need a description of how the segment works, please go back and read the title again.

Anyway, on Wednesday night the "Patriot" half of the piece was about a fan at a Lakers game who hit a shot from half-court, winning an oversized novelty check. You may say to yourself, "Making that kind of a shot is certainly nothing to sneeze at, but does it really mean the guy is patriotic?" History, however, shows that you are mistaken. Paul Revere, Patrick Henry, and Thomas Jefferson were all known to enjoy a spirited game of HORSE in the revolutionary era, and the patriotism of these men is taken for granted. In fact, George Washington once so impressed his countrymen with a full-court buzzer-beater that he was immediately elected president.

Meanwhile, O'Reilly's pinheads of the night were Snoop Dogg and Paris Hilton, earning the host's derision on the basis of a video in which Snoop listens to Paris freestyle for a few painful, painful bars. Hilton wasn't rhyming about how Fox News is racist or the president is black, so it would seem that Bill was objecting to Ms. Hilton's technique rather than her message. I never thought BillO was much of a hip-hop critic, but I guess it's possible that his recent tiffs with Nas and Jay-Z are really because he thinks it's been all downhill after Reasonable Doubt and Illmatic. Either that or he's trying to stir up a high-profile rap feud in order to boost sales of his latest mixtape, recorded under the name MC Bold Fresh.

O'Reilly's patriot/pinhead dichotomy seems straightforward enough, but I quickly discovered a problem with it: into which camp do we lump Shaquille O'Neal, Kobe Bryant, and other people who are very good basketball players but wack rappers? I certainly hope that the Factor will address this pressing issue soon so I can know whether these pro athletes love their country or lack intelligence.

Man, We Make Our Own Movies

2009-02-15T14:59:00.003-05:00

I remember when I was about ten or eleven years old, I saw a copy of National Review sitting on the coffee table at my grandparents' house. The cover had a picture of John Wayne storming the sands of Iwo Jima, with a headline touting the "Best Conservative Movies of All Time."

Well, it looks like that particular cover article, like wars in Iraq and Presidents named Bush, are ideas so nice that NR's editors thought they should be done twice. And so, hot on the heels of the magazine's much-mocked list of the best conservative rock songs, there's been an long-awaited update to that ancient feature. Jesse at Pandagon has a good take on the silliness, and I think that I've gotten a handle on the criteria that would make a perfect conservative movie:

Have a character who grows and/or accomplishes things.
Be based on a fantasy novel.
Take place in a dystopian future.
Have the bravery to criticize such sacred cows as Michael Moore and Sean Penn.
Be a war movie about heroic revolutionaries.
Be a war movie that puts a positive spin on Vietnam.
Celebrate vigilantism.
Star Clint Eastwood.
End with bad guys getting punished.

I'm especially enamored of that last one. A Simple Plan makes the list on account of its "crime doesn't pay" message. By that token, you could include every film noir ever made, since [spoiler alert!] the crooks never get away with it.

I must say, I'm glad I don't rely on the media I consume to reinforce my political beliefs. It's nice being able to watch a film, read a book, or listen to a song without wondering, "If these words, sounds, and images were granted suffrage, which candidates would they support?"

Stump the Sussex Spaniel

2009-02-12T22:28:00.000-05:00

I could totally win on that game show.

Fuck Art, Let's Fight

2009-02-11T20:05:00.002-05:00

I'd probably be more interested in seeing The International if they just went ahead and changed the title to Clive Owen's Guggenheim Shootout.

...And That's When My iPod Died

2009-02-05T20:54:00.000-05:00

When Your Mind's Made Up, There No Point Trying to Change It

2009-02-01T16:29:00.002-05:00

Hey, didja hear that Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova have broken up? That's probably for the best (it seems like everyone is only now catching on to the fact that their pairing was sort of creepy, he being almost twice her age and all), but it does highlight an inherent danger in one of my favorite musical genres: duos who are also romantic couples. Attention Mates of State & Matt and Kim: please try to work through whatever problems you may have. (Not that I'm saying you have problems! I'm sure everything's just awesome! But if you need me to pitch in a few bucks for therapy or anything...)

Love, Laughter and Truth

2009-01-31T00:40:00.002-05:00

I like David Letterman. I first saw his show when I was 11 years old, sleeping over at a friend's house, and it was unlike anything I'd ever seen. He read a list of the top ten excuses for being late (#1: "I'm Batman!") and later went to a supermarket to buy canned hams for everyone in his audience. I didn't quite understand why I thought this stuff was funny, but I did.

Over the years, I've remained a fan of Letterman and tried to catch his show at least a few times a week. Recently, though, I'd internalized some of the arguments against him: he's too old, his show on CBS can't measure up to his days on NBC, he doesn't care anymore, he's got nothing left in the tank but cynicism and bitterness.

Recently, Dave's undergone a bit of a renaissance after a few memorably snarky interviews in which he dressed down a succession of vapid young stars. But even that didn't really prepare me for what he had in store on Friday night. His only interview that night was with Mary Hicks, mother of the late comedian Bill Hicks. Mary was there to talk about her son and his controversial appearance on The Late Show in 1993, a performance which was completely removed from the airing of the show that night.

I'm afraid I'm not very familiar with Hicks's comedy, but this was a pretty heartwarming thing. Certainly the lead-off interview on any late-night talk show is a valuable chunk of airtime, and there is no shortage of actors who would be eager to plug whatever dire January movie they're currently appearing in. Instead, Dave spent two segments chatting with an elderly woman in order to make amends for a 15-year-old incident.

Letterman has a reputation as a cranky old man, but moments like that (and the show devoted to Warren Zevon's final performances) reassure me that the guy's really a big softie.

Sure She Is, Jimmy. Sure She Is.

2009-01-22T19:24:00.003-05:00

I don't recall hearing about this unlikely wedding, but if it's on Wikipedia...

Barack O. is President

2009-01-21T00:20:00.003-05:00

Some things about today that made me glad:

1. Since the term of the previous president expires at noon, and Barack Obama didn't take the oath of office until a few minutes later, there was a brief time today when the United States didn't have a president. The country didn't immediately descend into anarchy, however.

2. Just after taking the oath, Obama didn't let out a malevolent laugh and declare that he had been a terrorist sleeper agent all along, and that the voters, like fools, had all just played into his hands. That would have been embarrassing.

3. "Former president George W. Bush." "Former vice president Dick Cheney."

2009-01-17T03:30:00.003-05:00

Why do I love the internet? Because someone on it made a graph showing how many A's people use when typing the name "Khan," as it is shouted by William Shatner.

Oddly enough, I once thought about putting together a similar chart, but mine would have been devoted to the number of A's in the name "Walt."

Reviewing Unseen Movies

2009-01-17T01:37:00.002-05:00

Despite what the titles may lead you to believe...

My Bloody Valentine 3-D is not a gimmicky concert film of the beloved shoegaze band's recent reunion.
Underworld: Rise of the Lycans is not about the formation of a mossy fungus on the bottom of a rock.
Don Cheadle probably does not rescue anybody from genocide in Hotel for Dogs.