Snakes on a Plane Hits the Ground Burning

To keep with the habit of blogs musing over Snakes on a Plane, I offer up my first post on the subject.

Fellow bloggers, all of your hype was in vain. You didn't even see the movie, did you? You couldn't have. Sure, it made it to #1 in its first week, but it grossed just about half of what the industry execs had anticipated, and in its second week it has plummeted to #7, having only cumulatively grossed $26,319,390. I mean, hell, I'd take that, but considering the relentless internet marketing frenzy, all the parodies, all the buzz, I would have expected Snakes on A Plane to hover on the top for the rest of the summer.

Last week, Little Miss Sunshine was in S.O.A.P.'s current position at #7, but has blasted upwards to #3. Goes to show you that pre-release buzz is nearly meaningless if all you've got is a cleverly kitschy title. On the other hand, if there's no embryonic suspense for a film's release, than all you can bank on is the quality and integrity of the film itself and hope enough people see it to spread the word far and wide. Little Miss Sunshine is a perfect example of this much more rewarding scenario. This is not to say that people won't go see a shitty movie; you just have to deliver what the audience expects. Snakes on a Plane apparently failed at being a complete disaster. How difficult could that have been? Not very. We wanted camp. We wanted Sam Jackson loud and Black Panthered, instead we get the all-too-effortless: "I'm sick of these muthafuckin' snakes on this muthafuckin' plane." Sure, some guy gets a disproportionate circumcision from a toilet-dwelling snake, but the word is that the movie's just a mediocre action flick and fails at the overkill we all had hoped for. The word is not good, but it's still far-reaching. I for one was waiting for the reviews to hit, and they all had gone something like this: "Snakes on a Plane fails to be as bad as it could have been." So put me on the list of people who were kind of into the idea, but didn't go because the camp was intentional and never went as far as it should have. This could have opened up the Hollywood gates to explorations in the outer-reaches of taste and the entertainment value of the B movie. Thanks for fuckin' it up for us, David Ellis (director). Stick to stunts, and leave the filmmaking to the real muthafuckers. As for the Snakes on a Plane writers, you've proven to us that one writer is better than four.

Radiohead to Release Live DVD

"We did this festival called Bonnaroo," Thom Yorke said in an interview with BBC 6Music on Aug. 24. "We did 2.5 hours. And there's 80,0000 people, admittedly they've been smoking the sticky green all day, probably wouldn't go anywhere anyway. It was just amazing. We played loads of new stuff. We did whole sections of quiet piano songs and it sounds like the most grotesque self-indulgent nonsense but it probably is my favourite gig for years and years and years. It was a really mellow evening. Actually it's all being filmed, but we're sitting on it because there's loads of new stuff on it. Because we're mean like that. It will come out eventually."

It was an amazing performance, and I think we're in desperate need of a new live Radiohead DVD. We're just going to have to wait awhile. Deal with it. We can't let them get distracted from the new album. We don't need any more delays than I'm sure we're going to have to endure already.

And Thom Yorke is so fucking self-deprecating. It's okay, man. You're good, and I know you know that too. Sounds like the nitrous-ballooners at Bonnaroo weren't the only ones smoking, as you call it, 'the sticky green'. You seem all paranoid and incoherent, Thommy. Take a xanax or something.

The Shins are Back

In light of yesterday's McCarren Park Pool show, I have for you some updates on the new Shins album. Entitled Wincing the Night Away, we can expect the record to come out sometime around January 2007. That's only if we can all take a moment to cross our fingers.

They are currently mixing their third album, and seem intent on releasing nothing less than a perfect followup to Chutes Too Narrow. We can only wait and see but I have high expectations.

We've got audio clips of three new songs expected to be on Wincing the Night Away from their show at the historic Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles, CA, with Belle and Sebastian on July 6, 2006:

1. Circus Walk
2. Phantom
3. Australia

Unfortunate Weezer News

According to Weezer's PSA on their official website, the band has no plans of breaking up: "Now please, take those 'Weezer split?' headlines and place them firmly into the 'Don't believe the hype' bin. And have yourself a fine afternoon now."

Just when you thought Weezer was smarter than their last few albums might suggest, they go and screw it all up again. The man behind the band, Rivers Cuomo, had it right awhile back when he decided the band would be on 'indefinite hiatus.' Their music began suffering a long time ago, but at least they had the decency to abort, or at least discuss aborting, their overgrown baby. We never wanted to see them outgrow the minor majesty of their first two records, but they did and they continue to drown themselves in the decomposing placenta of the healthy young one that was the Blue Album. Weezer has become a small market machine for pre-teens with a penchant for nutmeg inhalation, and it's a sad state to see the band convince themselves its worth carrying the trend forward (or backward, depending on how you look at it.)

For the last Weezer post Click Here

Smashing Pumpkins Patched Up

In April of '06, Billy Corgan expressed that breaking up the Smashing Pumpkins probably wasn't the best call, but that they had 'reunited'.

Today, it was announced that the band is in the studio, recording with Roy Thomas Baker, who has also produced the Darkness, Queen, and the Cars. Eh. You can't expect much from the Pumpkins at this point (use their last album, 2000's MACHINA, as a launch pad for predictions). Considering the typical politics of an older band reunited and their choice to use a fairly bland producer, I just can't see them measuring up to something like Siamese Dream, ever.

There's been no update on the lineup, still. Drummer Jimmy Chamberlin is the only confirmed returning member. Bassist Melissa Auf Der Maur made indications in April that she'd always be interested in playing with the band again, so long as she's not on tour. Who does that leave? Fuckin' James Iha. What's the band without Iha? A side project. Something like Zwan, I guess. I think we can all agree that we don't need to hear anymore of the Pumpkins' sound filtrated through a soiled maxi-pad. I think Corgan could be insinuating that he wants to rehash that old and tired sound. Obviously, the only sound he's good at producing is the one he perfected over a decade ago, but you gotta change if you want to keep people interested. What I'm getting at here is, I'd be shocked if the upcoming album is even listenable. Besta luck, kids.

YouTube: Making Dreams Come True...

Thank heavens. YouTube Inc. has plans to offer every music video ever made by the end of 2007. Currently they're in talks with record labels in order to gain access to the videos. It's looking good, though.

It's a wonder that bands still make music videos. If you're a respectable artist, you have to question the purpose of making one. Sure, if you're a hardcore band gone glitter, than MTV2 might play your shit. If hip-hop is your bag and you've got plenty of Cristal (even though its company owner considers the champagne shout-outs "unwelcome attention") to pour down the asses that most white guys view as entirely too much hotdog bun, than maybe you'll get the chance to get all audio/visual with the shit. Otherwise, airtime is unlikely or at least extemely minimal.

But then YouTube cracks the leather whip: a complete archive of all music videos. Let's see that traffic increase and MTV's regretful faces when they realize they probably should have let go of 'Pimp My Ride''s fourth season, ditched 'My Super Sweet Sixteen', and maybe played a few more music videos. Perhaps even take a risk and play some music that isn't so bad (start out small with Christina Aguilera's new hit). It's gotta be better than parenting young teens into believing they're entitled to more expensive luxuries than their real parents and standardized taste as a totally killer commodity (MTV spawns bullies). Not-so-Music Television is comfortable, and really always has been, in creating unsustainable programming, but at least years ago, you could always count on some music. If I wanted to be around obnoxious little shits I'd go barhopping in Greenwich Village or Chuck E. Cheeses (either way: same crowd). Music is universal, so wouldn't MTV fare better exploiting that? Obviously not. You'll never see MTV begging for change.

Thanks, YouTube for trying to bring back the music video into popular culture. People might hate to admit it, but music videos are really their dormant fetish. Exploit it, YouTube, exploit.

Source: Reuters

Sunday, August 13, 2006 -- Holy cow! Williamsburg, Brooklyn is the hippest place around. The place where vintage clothing is more expensive than new fashions, but you're ridiculed for spending too much on your 21st Century trappings; where shirts are always at least one size too small and the guys just cannot bring the hotness if they're not wearing their sister's Levi's. Williamsburg prides itself on its characters, but everyone is just a little too timid to stray, so the culture has become largely homogenized. It's the place where asking for McCarren Park Pool's location is met with harsh reactions from the too-hip-for-hipsters crowd who wouldn't think of attending the Beirut/Deerhoof show or the hip-enough-for-hipsters crowd who can't believe you don't know where the day's big concert is.

So what could you expect from this show at Williamsburg's resurrected pool spot? A great time? Well, yes, of course; where else would I be going with this?

Okay, so there were the Williamsburg regulars. During Beirut's set, I stood above two girls sitting Indian-style reading books, completely detached from their surroundings, and oh yeah(!), from the band performing on stage. Would this be a more common occurrence if shows were as well lit as this one? The sun certainly brings out a different concertgoer in some of us. When it's just hot enough to remind us that it's summer, and bringing a crowd-bouncing beachball sounds like a good idea. It became irresistably cute rather than irresponsible to bring your toddler along to see a band like Deerhoof. And Brooklyn Lager never tasted so good even after having to wait on three different lines to get it.

I don't necessarily think of Beirut and Deerhoof when I think outdoor concert. They do well in the intimate rock club with heady lighting and the veil of dark mystery, but their sounds translate surprisingly well. The strains of tender merriment were able to reach the surface.

Beirut utters a brilliant sound with Balkan and Gypsy traditions filtered through a pop rock netting of maritime folkiness. Zach Condon's vocals are of a more whimsical, subdued Scott Walker, and highlight the buoyant music behind him. The multi-instrumentalist is hailed as a musical prodigy, and his band gets about as much online-hype as Lily Allen. Sure, Beirut is precocious, but it's just that. Their approach is fresh and inventive, but their execution is slightly underdeveloped. Their live performance at McCarren Park pool was a clear representation of what I mean. Songs bled together with very few memorable and deviating melodies. Brass colors vanished in the air due to flimsy arrangements without much sense of dynamics and changes. They were tight, but the songs are more an indication of the songwriting caliber to come. Even Postcards from Italy, the fan-favorite, wasn't as affecting as a favorite should be. Surely it has a lot to do with the composition, but maybe it had even more to do with their unrefined, more clever than thou, yet kinda half-baked comments in between songs. The energy lost a good deal of its propellant when Beirut's obnoxious tambourine player felt the need to constantly insert his inane observations. Keep it to yourself, bud.
It's all good, though. Beirut was a nice precursor to what I know I came for.

Deerhoof hit the stage during DJ ?uestlove's set. Lead singer, Satomi Matsuzaki, sang in repeat, "Bunny," over the DJ's booming hip-hopness. Then the band began their short, but adrenalized set, with a whole bunch of Runner's Four material. By the way, Matsuzaki is the hottest thing since Japanese school girls started wearing those damn skirts. Sure, she's got the cute asian thing goin' on, but most of it has to do with her approach to music. Her on-stage dance-antics, her simple and crude tackling of Paul McCartney's Hofner bass sound, and the paradox of her vocals--the child-like timbre and melodies, and the mature complexity and intrigue of these same melodies-- both broadcast twitches through my insides. Deerhoof, among others, of course, demonstrate that you don't have to be a jam band to make each show new and exciting. You attach yourself to each song's familiaralities, but they're so reshaped that you feel virgin to the performances. They capture the live undertaking of rock music's past. The albums are refined to an extent, but the explosion of clarified rawness and spontaneity comes shattering forth during the concerts. Wrong Time Capsule's riff-heavy freak-out probably received the most exciting live-treatment. I nearly shat and splooged. My only complaint of the Pool Party show was, of course, its length, but I guess that keeps the drool flowing bulbous and without end.

Some videos with less than stellar sound, but swell, nonetheless:

Deerhoof - Bunny Beginnings

More Deerhoof


Beirut - Their last song with introduction from tambourine-shmuck

New Music-Related Documentaries

Leonard Cohen: I'm Your Man

Though the tributes seem to predominate the biographical aspect, the film still looks pretty good. Bono and The Edge appear to be all over the documentary. It's easy to hate them, and while I really don't, they're made out to be the premier musicians influenced by Cohen and I can easily see it getting irritating. The tribute performances look great, though. Antony. Nick Cave. Word.
70% on Rotten Tomatoes' Tomatometer

In theaters


American Hardcore: The History of American Punk Rock 1980-1986

Not a huge fan of hardcore, but I'm going to have to see this one. Looks fun and faithful to the formative phases of the scene. Henry Rollins is all over it, and you can't complain about his appearance.

In theaters September 22

The U.S. vs. John Lennon

We like to lionize John Lennon, which I guess isn't exactly so bad, but we often forget that he was kind of a prick, who was one of the farthest people from perfection. He was a great songwriter and he spoke out against some nasty political happenings at the time, but we're too quick to tag him as something beyond human. He headed a great deal of protests, but have we not yet realized that picketing and protesting against national government issues isn't exactly the most effective method? Back then, it was fine, they tried it out (while on too many drugs, mind you) but these days government doesn't allow for that sort of public opinion to affect much. The U.S. vs. John Lennon movie trailer attempts to galvanize its viewers into protest. It's as if they try to convince us that if we do as Lennon did we can end wars. It's a little silly, but it does look like an interesting flick.

In theaters September 15

A Nice New York Surprise

Electro-rock siblings, The Knife, are coming to New York to perform in the CMJ festival. It'll be there first show ever played in the States. Aren't we lucky?

I'm a little scared.

Wed 11/01 - 8:00 PM The Knife
Webster Hall $25

The Knife - Marble House

(The Swedes are strange.)

Beck Has A New Record Coming Out, Kids

And he is a man of little mystery, for now. Entitled The Information, Beck's latest Nigel Godrich produced album will be released October 2. Nigel likes producing Radiohead albums, though he's not slated to do their latest, and he also produced Beck's Sea Change. Sea Change was a scantily-clad record without the sex, but you can expect an electric-fuck-ta-freak record from The Information. Is anyone else getting the feeling that it's going to do some deeper roaming through the streets of hip-hop?...Yes, on acid, of course. (I just found the music video for the new single We Dance Alone. I was right. Damn; all betting is closed.)

The CD is to come equipped with a do-it-yourself-liner-notes. In case you haven't graduated junior high yet or you're really into useless activities, you've been offered, by Beck himself, to build your very own The Information booklet. A blank sleeve and booklet will be packaged with a sheet of stickers. Beck also revealed that he will award his favorite booklet designer with a mystery video game console so you can waste more of your time. Okay that last part isn't true, and I won't hold it against you if you put Beck's sticker set to use, or play video games for that matter.

The Information will also come with a videodisc with, you guessed it, a video for each song. Remind you of the previous post? Wanna sell records? Well make us unable to live without it! Trick us into thinking that playing with stickers post-adolescence is fuckin' shweet. Whatever it is, you gotta do what you gotta do, and if that means some clowning around via the physical album itself, then so be it. Personally, I'd like Beck to hold the stickers and give us a refund for Guerro, instead. I'm just kidding. I never bought it. This album, on the other hand...now that's a bargain, buddy! Right? Say I'm right.

Check out Beck.com's video section for the We Dance Alone video

When can Ashley Parker Angel and Saving Jane make it to #1?

Well, when their songs are on newest edition of the NOW: That's What I Call Music compilation, of course. The 22nd volume of our favorite technological-aged-lollipop-tool for pedophiles peaked at number one on the Billboard 200 and is resting easy at number two in its third week.

The saddest part in all of this is that if Angel and Jane made it to #1 it wouldn't thrust any of us into shock. There are a lot of implications that arise from NOW's uber-popularity, and we heard them all before. Obviously, the MP3 revolution is the most pronounced factor in this sad state. I don't try to convince myself that music is as vital to the rest of the country as it is with me. I like albums, and listening to the whole thing. Straight through! But it would be clownish of me to pretend that most people didn't just want to buy an album for their new favorite song of the month. You know, the CD that soon after gathers dust on their undulating Ikea rack. The MP3 has now opened up the opportunity to scrap their CD-as-furniture stance and get that cherry-wood bookshelf they always wanted to store their absent-of-the-jacket-first-editions of James Patterson and Danielle Steel novels that they "haven't gotten around to reading yet".

To be honest with you, I could care less. It's only hurting the record companies, and who really cares about them? Right? Maybe? Music listeners have always been sub-categorized by the avid music listener and the casual one. The casual one just so happens to be the more common one, as well. So maybe NOW aint so bad if it just reflects the popular taste in music. For all of you senseless haters, you might remember a certain little band called Radiohead who ended up on the first NOW compilation. It was Karma Police, if you're interested. Anyway, NOW don't see it so much as an ignitor as just a mirror for the state of artificial pop songs as Xeroxed copies of each other.

In any case, though, I sneeze at the record exec who doesn't take a chance on something different and then whines about how record sales go down. No matter what, as long as the MP3 stays alive, sales will remain low. We need a much more attractive package with the album. If people cared about every song on a record and every word in the liner notes, perhaps more people would buy records. Most of the artists who make it to the top of the chart these days feed into this cycle of single-frenzy, but it's difficult to say whether or not this is engineered to give into most people's instinctual desire for the one hit song or if its a problem that can be erradicated by popularizing a great album instead of a song that happens to be on a smegma-smelling album.


And instead of people like your humble commentator complaining so much, maybe we need to blame ourselves as a part of the music community. I love experimental music, blah blah blah, but couldn't some of us also make irresistable pop songs that could actually carry with it some respectable songwriting? Who knows, though? Maybe no matter what, that money-sweating record exec would ignore it because he'd be taking too much a risk.

All I want to know is, where's our Beatles!? Time will tell, I guess.

Heights - Review

Rating: C

Heights isn't exactly a new movie, but it's still relevant. A lot of young filmmakers fall into this trap, so pay attention, or something:

New York City is a funny place. We walk around on what feels like a treadmill—walking a great deal, while never getting very far—emotionally. It’s the distance we could make with anyone outside our enclosed social/business circles. Each day, we pretend that the people we walk past aren’t worth our time. In reality, though, they’re wandering screenplays—stories we can all walk away from that much wiser. And if not that, we can at least be entertained by them.

Heights tells a New York story that falls somewhere in between. The story is articulated with a lustrous breath of style, but first-time screenwriter, Amy Fox’ story feels highfalutin and its form contrived. It’s not that the narrative is inane or unimaginable. These days, relationships are often rickety and underhanded, which is why these characters feel so real. Fox’ honesty is limited, though. If the cosmos were aligned just right during that 24-hour period, this scenario could be feasible. I mean that’s what makes a film a film and not just a mundane account of habit and ordinary occurrences. In the case of Heights, though, the story is too conscious of its themes to come off realistic. As the film develops, every little piece fits too perfectly, and the big picture is a shrunken model of what the writer had intended. It’s the overachiever who does everything just right, but whose overall presence is dulled by a lack of real experience and raw passion. The film feels jaded by its own ability to stitch an impeccable and symmetrical web, and therefore lacks the true human experience. Would our lives hold as much meaning if everything happened for a reason and we were aware of the fact?

The drifting heart, muddled sexual identities, and life’s priorities are pillars of the intertwined lives in the film, but these pillars don’t seem so sturdy when the inflated conclusion comes. It was intended to shock us, but instead it backfires with a quiet boom of tacky character reactions to a surprise that could not have happened any other way. You kick yourself for not having envisioned the ending even when you had smelled it approaching the entire time. You’re too distracted by the other interconnections to predict it, which I suppose is clever in its own right, but the ending is muted because no other piece could have tied the rest of the stitching together. So, you’re left with the feeling that this just couldn’t happen to the average Joe. ‘If the writer could only achieve this “powerful” end by putting all of these very specific variables together in very specific places, than why would this ever happen to me?’ If that last empty space could have been weaved together with any number of possible pieces, than perhaps the filmmakers could have impacted their audience in the way they wanted. The film is just not as quick-witted as it tried so hard to have you believe.

Glenn Close and the team of young actors (James Marsden, Elizabeth Banks, and Jesse Bradford) render some tame but brilliant performances. Close never outshines the others, which is not to say that any of them offer flat interpretations of their characters. They prove to us they are just as capable and will surely bring us some unforgettable acting in the future. It’s unfortunate that they couldn’t deliver them here. Despite some skilled and grounded contributions, they are still contributing to a film that smothers them by the meticulous hands of a blemished script.

After the credits rolled, I was pleased, but not gushing. In retrospect, I had been tricked into believing that Heights was a pretty good movie. Relative to what’s out now, it is good. I praise the filmmakers for their effort to entertain us with puzzle-form, but their chic presentation isn’t enough to withstand its own youthful pretensions. With time, I think we’ll see something much more groundbreaking from them, but for now we’re left with a rickety, but stylized vehicle for some fairly important issues, most of which you can find in the superior film, Closer.

Synopsis
Heights follows five characters over 24 hours on a fall day in New York City. Isabel, a photographer, is having second thoughts about her upcoming marriage to Jonathan, a lawyer. On the same day, Isabel's mother Diana learns that her husband has a new lover and begins to re-think her life choices and her open marriage. Diana and Isabel's paths cross with Alec, a young actor, and with Peter, a journalist. As the interrelated stories proceed, the connections between the lives of the five characters begin to reveal themselves and their stories unravel. Isabel, Jonathan, Diana, Alec, and Peter must choose what kind of lives they will lead before the sun comes up on the next day.

Click Here for Heights Trailer

New Swan Lake Mp3

Swan Lake's All Fires MP3 Download

Dan Bejar (Destroyer) and Carey Mercer (Frog Eyes) are songwriters, too, you know, but their input is scarcely found in Swan Lake's first released song. All Fires is darkly and delicately powerful, but the melody and quiet tension building is typical of Spencer Krug's Sunset Rubdown. The guitar atmospherics act as the fluttering wires who carry and thaw out the literal acoustic guitar playing and Krug's characteristically grim, yet narrowly hopeful vocals. There are moments of Bejar's raw nostalgia, but I think this song is merely one of Krug's babies. Jagjaguwar was probably just playing it safe by releasing the song that sounds most like the work of the predominantly successful and recognizable songwriter. In this case it just so happens to be Spencer Krug of Wolf Parade popularity. I'm looking forward to the more obvious collaborations between Bejar and Krug, who share a similar aesthetic but assemble it in a very different armory.

For the last Swan Lake post and more information on their upcoming LP, Beast Moans, Click Here

New Portishead Album

Holy Shmoke! Portishead are back! It's been nine years since they last recorded a studio album. Founding member, Geoff Barrow told BBC 6 Music that he was surprised people thought Portishead split up, "We've just had our heads down really, we've never actually broken up, or parted, or whatever." Come on, guy. It's been nine years. Isn't it a fair assumption that you guys weren't interested in recording together again.

Not that I'm complaining. I'm kind of excited, but mostly worried for them. They're older; not so fresh, you know? Barrow has already said on their myspace page, "It's really hard not to sound like you're doing a bad impression of yourself." That's exactly what you would expect. The third LP was nearly finished when they revealed the news, but I'm thinking they're reevaluating the sound. It's a good thing. At least their spotting it. You can't fix it, if you can't see it.

When asked if they would collaborate with Danger Mouse, Barrow reveals, "I'd rather poo in my mum's Sunday roast, than have Danger Mouse produce a Portishead record...no offence like."

A little prickish. Not exactly well put, but I like his attitude.

Zombie's Halloween

I hate film remakes. They're cop outs. "Can't think of an idea? That's okay. Just take an already successful one, rip out its heart, send it through a digitizer, and slap it on a clever advertising campaign." It's terrible. We're creative people and we've been writing novels for too long to use the 'every good idea has been taken' execuse. No genre, director, or era can escape the recycle bin.

The 1978 classic horror film, Halloween (1978) is no exception. Normally, I would ignore the idea altogether, but Rob Zombie is slated to direct. Many write off his films, House of 1000 Corpses (2003) and The Devil's Rejects (2005). It's easy, isn't it? Shitty musician = shitty everything, right? Not so! Hell, look at 'N Sync's Joey Fatone. He was a much better actor than he was a singer. Just check out On The Line with gay co-star/bandmate Lance Basssss. For serious though, Rob Zombie is no joke. He has a real knack for the horror genre: the gore, the grime, the thrills, the twisted comedy, and I trust that his Halloween might even surpass the quality of the original. I'm not so sure you can beat out Jamie Lee Curtis, though, when you consider she once had the rare gift of vag-balls. You need a nice brassy pair to deal with that dude, Michael Myers, even if there's a vagina where your testes once were.

Anyway here's the scoop. Zombie told Yahoo: "I basically went back and just came up with the idea of basically - not essentially a remake, but a very extended prequel sort of combined with an update, say, of the first film.

"You're starting from scratch but in sort of a more detailed way. That's the way I thought it would be exciting for fans of the original, because it's not just the same old thing, and it would be exciting for people that never saw the original."

Not exactly the most eloquent guy you've ever encountered, but he is a country boy, so give him some slack. At least he's not writing the screenplay.

(Check out the pic. He's looking more and more like a prick director every day.)

Korn Reacts to Fan's Death

I'm so over this story, but I thought I'd give you the final update. Actually, just look at it over here at NME.

Well, Korn confirmed my predictions. They simply offered their condolonces to the family, said they were appalled, and summoned any witnesses, totally avoiding the grander issue. That's okay, I guess. They should just stick to hard rocking/rapping or whatever it is they do, because that's what they're (not so)good at.

Thom Yorke Actually Doesn't Have Time for the Head of State

According to SPIN.com, Thom Yorke, in a post yesterday to Radiohead's deadairspace blog, denounced British Prime Minister Tony Blair, saying among other things, "We must throw Tony Blair out of office NOW." He concludes, "a vote of no confidence. or something. anything.." You can find the full text here.

Long ago, Yorke declared on the OK Computer track, "Lucky", that he didn't have time for the Head of State, even if that person were to come to Yorke in a moment of need. Fittingly enough, the Head of State (Tony Blair) did call for Yorke's help (or consultation) just several months ago ("Thom Yorke turns Tony Blair down"), yet was predictably shut down by the "freaked out" Yorke. Our lazy-eyed antihero "came out of that whole period just thinking, I don't want to get involved directly, it's poison. I'll just shout my mouth off from the sidelines."

It's a lot harder for me to lambast Yorke than it is for our humble editor, Pico (see his review of The Eraser, which ranked lower than horror flick The Descent), which is probably the reason why he asked me to write this piece. Basically, Yorke is all talk. Does his own concession to this effect really make the accusation any less biting? He would tell us that he is a musician first and foremost and that the music contains elements of paranoid fantasy, etc. etc. It is not a model for political revolution, etc. etc. etc.

Has Yorke forgotten the reason why he and everyone before him started writing politically relevant songs in the first place? It was all about the dream; it is all about the dream, that one day your opinions will leave the fairytale stage of rock 'n' roll and gain acceptance or support in the mainstream of political thought; that you might be able to influence the course of politics in your country or even the world. Of course, it's a pipedream for most and the political discourse contained within these rock songs is usually dismissed as 'youthful angst'. But when the call comes, when the people have spoken, when they have determined that "this is really happening", you step in and you do your best to divert the coming Ice Age. You don't write political songs to sell records or to 'get things off your chest'. You write political songs to achieve some purpose; to change minds. Clearly Yorke acknowledges the effect his words have on the public, however, he is unwilling to offer anymore guidance than that. Rather than become the figurehead of a movement (he is probably sure will fail), he sits on the sidelines and talks shit.

Okay, I get it, Yorke doesn't want to wind up like 1980's John Lennon; confused, angry, frustrated, and somewhat powerless. But as bad as things may have been for 1980's John Lennon, he was never afraid to not only "talk politics" but to "throw stones" as well.

I'm sorry Thom. And I'm sorry to you, the reader, for my excessive usage of Radiohead-related puns.

Perhaps the bigger story here is that after SPIN.com posted a report of Thom's blog entry, it was REMOVED! By who, I don't know, but has the mainstream finally tamed Thommy?

Some Upcoming New York Shows

Wed 8/09
8:00 PM Candi Staton, Stephanie McKay
Bowery Ballroom $25

Wed 8/09
8:00 PM Black Dice, The Woods
Knitting Factory(Main Space) $12a/$15d

Sun 8/06
4:00 PM or 6:30 PM Hazel Dickens, Bonnie "Prince" Billie, Captain Anomoanon
Joe's Pub $30

Fri 8/11
5:00 PM Sonic Youth, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Blood on the Wall
McCarren Park Pool $35

Sat 8/12
8:00 PM Throwing Muses, Bullseye, 50 Foot Wave
Bowery Ballroom $20

Sun 8/13
2:00 PM Deerhoof, Beirut, Apollo Sunshine, The Harlem Shakes
McCarren Park Pool free

Wed 8/16
8:00 PM X, Rollins Band, The Riverboat Gamblers
Nokia Theatre $40

Thu 8/17
7:00 PM Wu Tang Clan
Webster Hall $50

Thu 8/17
5:00 PM Iron and Wine, Low
McCarren Park Pool $32.50

Fri 8/18
9:00 PM Girl Talk, Cx Kidtronix/Deuce Gangsta, Professor Murder
Mercury Lounge $10a/$12d

Sat 8/19
2:00 PM Clogs, Excepter, Fern Knight, Blues Control
East River Amphitheater Free

Mon 8/21
8:00 PM Alog, David Grubbs, Matthew De Gennaro
Tonic tba

Tue 8/22
8:00 PM Stars Like Fleas, William Hooker 5tet, Shangai
Tonic Tba

Wed 8/23
5:00 PM The Shins, J. Mascis, Sam Jayne
McCarren Park Pool $35

Thu 8/24
5:00 PM Neko Case, Joanna Newsom, Martha Wainwright
McCarren Park Pool $32.50

Fri 9/08
8:00 PM Radio Birdman, The Rogers Sisters, Easy Action
Irving Plaza $22.50a/$25d

Fri 9/08
11:00 PM Comets on Fire, Soldiers of Fortune, Blues Control
Knitting Factory(Main Space) $12a/$14d

Sun 9/10
9:00 PM Dr. Octagon (aka Kool Keith), Beans, Mr. Lif
Bowery Ballroom $22

Sun 9/10 - Mon 9/11
7:30 PM Band of Horses, Chad Van Gaalen
Bowery Presents @ Webster Hall $17a/$18d

Korn Fan Dies

The hospitalized Andy Richardson, who was beaten at a Korn concert for trying to protect his pregnant girlfriend in a mosh pit, died yesterday. Police have only a vague description of the two men, and Korn have yet to release a statement.

This is Korn's chance to alter this sentiment--to change their live atmosphere and to preach something more positive--but somehow I doubt it. If they respond I think it will be a simple offering of the condolences.

The two (I guess we can now call them) murderers, must be flipping their shit. There are three kind of people in this world. The rare group who would feel nothing about this situation, who might even trick themselves into believing their decision was virtuous and that person had to die. It was a moral obligation. You know, the real psychopath types.

Then there are the ones who feel thoroughly guilty. "Holy shit. What have we done? What have we done to that man's
baby who lives inside the belly of his girlfriend?" Real overwhelming sense of dread, to the point where even if you're an atheist, you're like "I have to be going to hell or at least reincarnate as a roach. I will live through World War III as a roach, until there is nothing left but roaches feeding off the radiation-soaked dead." You can't sleep at night, and you start aging more rapidly. Hair starts to gray and fall out. Wrinkles form. The stress and guilt are so overwhelming that all you can do is turn yourself in. The time frame varies slightly for each person.

Lastly, there are the people who are just frightened by getting caught. They worry terribly. They know they fucked up, and the affects are similar to the previous group, except they do not concern themselves with the consequences of their actions for the people they affected, but only the consequences that will wound them. "I can't go to jail, man. I'm just a simpleton who listens to Korn. I can't stand up for myself." But they do. They have to stand up to survive, and they will, until they are reduced to the state of everyone else in that shithole of an institution. I think these two fall into this category. Word.

Life is Peachy for Korn Fans

NOT! Andy Richardson asked two unidentified men at a Korn show to mind the belly of his pregnant girlfriend and a mentally ill child who was in attendance with them in Atlanta. Apparently the two men were insulted by Richardson's cautioning, because after leaving the HiFi Buys Ampitheatre, they came back to beat the generous 30-year-old (boy)friend to a pulp. His mother, Gloria, claims that Andy is now brain dead and will not likely survive.

Not to make light of this devastating news, but all of the odds were against Richardson, and I'm surprised he hadn't foreseen disaster. Taking the two people he took to a Korn concert was not exactly the sharpest move. It could have been acceptable had he secured a comfortable place apart from the inevitable group of angry-for-no-real-reason-mosh-fucks. In the end, though, you only get the information that generates the most sympathy for the victim. The two left the arena and returned to beat the shit out of this guy. The victim had to have been really pissing these guys off to have inspired this in them, or maybe not. We don't know. Either way, these two guys should be put away for a very long while. What did this to them, though? Was it Korn?

My first rock concert was Korn in 1997. I was 12-years-old and I guess you could say it was the beginning of my long and loving relationship with live music. At the time, though, I was dooped. I like aggressive music, but Korn gives me this pedophile vibe--taking advantage of and soiling the purity of children. Their angst sells records to kids just as they reach that angsty stage and make them angstier. Fuck these puritanical shits who want to ban certain music, etc., but sometimes I feel as if bands like Korn have the ability to rile up something in you that shouldn't be riled. Anything could aggravate this thing inside of you if that thing is in large enough quantity, but bands like Korn make it trendy--trendy to package yourself in a metaphorical casket that you violently and without logical reason fight to stay in and simultaneously fight to get out of.

I was one of these kids, but I never had enough of that thing inside of me to flip, but I did see the worst side of me come out during this time and I attribute the way it came out to music like Korn's. Looking back on it, it was totally silly. Absolutely hysterical, but if I was the wrong kind of person, perhaps I could have ended up like those two pieces of shit at the Korn concert. It's not a band's responsibility to change themselves and their music to accommodate unstable egos, but couldn't they preach something else outside of their music? Establish their live setting as a safe place to vent (Dance your fucking asses off. Throw yourselves around, even, but know that in the end this is fun and the people around you are here for the same and there should be an overwhelming sense of harmony and love in the air despite what might appear to be violence); Tell us, Korn, that while we're a frustrated people, we could be happier if we didn't dwell so much on everything that's wrong and the hate we have bubbling inside our immature bellies.

Going through these rebellious periods of your life are so critical to your development, and your music taste could and maybe even should reflect this period, but I also believe that sometimes it's the music's responsibility to talk to us on some intelligent level. Instead of throwing back at us a darker and ballooned version of the belief system we already have for ourselves, these bands like Korn could discuss what's so hard about life, but not let us get so fucking angry about it. Stop aggravating that sense of dissatisfaction, or whatever it is, to the point of explosion, an explosion whose debris puts a guy in the hospital brain dead and close to death. To say that there aren't other variables would be just as stupid as the guys who actually put him in the hospital, but it seems almost too convenient that it happened at a Korn concert. Isn't a concert supposed to be a transcendent experience instead of a constant concern for your safety from those fucking assholes whose only intention is to drink some beers and whoop some ass (Don't forget this happened in Atlanta)?

The sad part of all of this is the guys in this particular situation were not kids, but apparently just as impressionable. It's arrested development. If a band like Korn still speaks to you on a truly emotional or intellectual level after your teenage years, I think you've got to step outside of yourself for a moment. As I get older, I get more and more calm and peaceful. Isn't that supposed to happen for all of us? Well, I apparently not for Korn fans.

Source: NME

About Fuckin' Time: Lohan Bitch-Slapped by Hollywood

Oh Shit! Take that you ginger-bitch, tryin' to be the freckled Paris Hilton and shit. I mean, you're not even completely talentless. Tryin' to stay out and party all night? We do it all the time but we're not filming the surefire hit, 'Georgia Rule'. So what am I talking about exactly?

Lohan received a letter from studio execs "via hand delivery and email" on July 26th, saying, among other things, "You and your representatives have told us that your various late arrivals and absences from the set have been the result of illness; today we were told it was 'heat exhaustion.' We are well aware that your ongoing all night heavy partying is the real reason for your so-called 'exhaustion'".

The fucking genius (with zero sarcasm) who penned this Shakespearean, diva-crushing anthem of a memo also went on to add, "To date, your actions on Georgia Rule have been discourteous, irresponsible and unprofessional. You have acted like a spoiled child and in so doing have alienated many of your co-workers and endangered the quality of this picture."

I say this should become the standard operating procedure for dealing with all Hollywood celebrities.

Source: http://thesmokinggun.com

It's Also Official: Darren Aronofsky Peaked With 'Requiem For A Dream'

Apparently, this is the second part of a two-part director fall-off series. We had high hopes for our favorite tweak-out director, Darren Aronofsky. If you were avoding his IMDB profile, you would have envisioned another surrealistic, yet reality-grounded film - you know some Requiem For a Dream / Pi sorta biznass. It's been six years since his last film, and I'm sure more than half of that time was spent working on The Fountain. I hope its worth it to him. If you sniff out the trailer you'll notice the sweat of struggle for a sweep at the Oscars - Lord of the Rings-steezly. The trailer suggests a Lord of The Rings breeds with Ghost (When can you ever say Patrick Swayze and Whoopi Goldberg in the same sentence!?) affair. This time around, we've got Hugh Jackman, who's yet to approach his artistic peak, and Rachel Weisz, who has come closer. This is one of nine upcoming Jackman films that will be out by at least 2007. Weisz only has three, so we'll see who shows who. Right?

The imagery looks stunning, but it's difficult to span a thousand years in what will probably be a three-hour movie. I'm just not very into the world of sci-fi, but maybe this will surpass my expectations, and Aronofsky will prove he's done everything but fall off. But come on, Hugh Jackman, immortal? Nahh.

The Fountain - Trailer

Axl Rose - Got the Sickness!?

Last night (July 30), a sick Axl Rose left the stage of Wembley Arena, which held Guns N' Roses last UK date of the tour. The bloated / boondocks-bar-hoppin' version of the vocalist who fronted a band that should have called it quits before or right after their first full-length, had apparently grown so ill by the end of the set that he had to leave. What is it now Mr. Rose? Your tummy? Nah. It's that blasted H-fix again. Eh, maybe, maybe not. Maybe, you couldn't let that cosmetic surgery of yours melt at the beams of stagelighting. Waxy-, sun-tanned by alcoholism-appearance must be maintained.

Whatever it was, it had Skid Row's Sebastian Bach take his place, and hairspray-wail Night Train and Paradise City. Come on, Axl. Your name is Axl, dude. Shouldn't that imply never letting your buried pussy get the best of you? You know, the little pussy that grew out of your clown's wig that you call pubic hair. Remember, when your taint started splitting as soon as you got called 'rock god'? I know how you like your chicken roasted just right before your big performance, and that you get violently sensitive whenever someone wipes at your mangina fluid, but temper tantrums were a thing of the past. Now it's just silly since you've been receiving your Medicare. It's come to this. The ex-con getting his even stinkier, sweatier pussy of a friend, Sebastian, to cover for him. Oh well, Axl, at least you can safely say Slash's head looks more and more like a Latin crotch every day, but at least his balls didn't get lost in it.

It's Official: David Fincher Peaked With 'Fight Club'

There are few moments from my high school days that I can actually recall with some clarity, yet one that sticks out like an ironic thumb is the awful year I spent learning about content and form; namely, that good art takes both into consideration. Of course, there are those acts that have made a living out of ignoring one or the other. There are also the acts that have made a living out of ignoring both, altogether, leaving the fate of their mindfruit to the demigods and sirens. For the record, I have absolutely no issue with acts/artists who do not consciously determine and/or synchronize form and content. I'm not going to sit around and type a blog about what "art" really is. We'll leave that to the freshmen visual art students at Parsons (sidenote: they should really open these forums to the public and allow pedestrians like you and me to watch from the sidelines--it would be better than anything playing at the Sunshine). But here's my problem: when good artists go bad.



David Fincher, director ("auteur", says the film school prof) of 'Fight Club' and far less notably, 'Panic Room', is slated to release an adaptation of the F. Scott Fitzgerald short story, "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button". In this sure-to-be typically time-bending adaptation, Fincher's boy-muse, Brad Pitt, "will play a character who ages in reverse." Sounds like a Fincher-worthy, pie-in-the-sky idea. Here's the catch; here's what's catching my panties and bunching them ever-so-chafingly underneath my grundle: the entire plot of the film (and the production, I assume) is based on the new Contour Camera System, designed by former Apple engineer Steve Perlman, which allows directors/photographers to capture a fully synthesized representation of an actor/subject. I'm sure you see where this is going...

I really don't want to go to a movie that's more of a trade-show advertisement for new technology than a piece of art for public consumption. We've already seen what happens when form dictates content: 'Matrix: Reloaded', 'Matrix: Revolutions', etc. What made 'The Matrix' so incredible was that the form bolstered the content and vice-versa. The story was great, the ideas were fresh, the acting was terrible (well, who gives a shit anyway), and the production quality was stunning. The Wachowski bros didn't create a scene in which Keanu Reaves could see in binary code and then develop a plot around that idea. It just seems like that's what's going on here with Mr. Fincher. If he really wants to get our attention, maybe he should try directing a movie that doesn't rely on innovative technologies to tell a story.

Source: http://www.nytimes.com

The Descent - Review

Rating: B-

Without exaggeration, my friend never has more than $10 on him whenever we go out. Why is that? Well, he’s a claustrophobic. It’s not very expensive to get around the city, unless of course you have an irrational fear of confined spaces. Getting on a subway is simply not an option, so if he’s got to be somewhere, it’s cab rides all the way. So, I suggested to him, “you should see The Descent, dude.” There was no getting him in a cab to see a movie about being trapped in a cave. Apparently, it would be just too frightening for him, but isn’t that what we look for in a good horror film? Aren’t those the guidelines—the purpose of them? To scare us? To exploit our deepest fears?

To pretend we don’t have a little claustrophobia inside all of us would be irrational. The Descent creeps around in search of that vulnerable space. It spots the fertile patch in your brain, and plants its infectious and crippling seed. It gets you lost in a dark and unmapped cave. You crawl through tunnels that just fit your body, and all of a sudden you get trapped. Time is limited, light is running low, and an exit, well, an exit might not even exist. You can’t tell me claustrophobia doesn’t at least poke at you in this situation.

The Descent sees six thrill-seeking women in this situation, but you quickly become the seventh friend who also has to endure the wicked eeriness of the cave and the hungry creatures that haunt it. In your theater seat, your teeth grind and you shield your face from terrifying scenes of realistic catastrophe, but all the while a great deal of The Descent’s nightmarish maneuvering is cheap and typical of the genre. The irony and foreshadows are painfully obvious and come off as Friday The 13thtriteness.

What panics you most is the sense of confinement that the characters essentially brought on themselves, and their inability to seek help or consult a guide. Though, as soon as The Descent explores catastrophe that is far from realistic, the film begins to suffer. The horror remains, but becomes artificial and loses its ability to terrorize the audience after the credits roll; had it never transformed into a monster movie—if these savage beasts were merely the hallucinatory affects of a cavernous episode—than I think we could have walked away stalked by the thought of caves forever. We get a nice taste of it, but as we hike through the film’s second half, we are only frightened by sudden visual bolts. We end up startled by something along the lines of an unsuspecting grab of the shoulder. You get that hearty jolt of fright but the dose dissolves soon after the film ends.

The Descent’s characters aren’t deeply explored, especially by the actresses who leave their characters paper-thin, besides the main character, Sarah (Shauna Macdonald), who doesn’t take up enough camera-time. While each woman is critical to the plot, Sarah is the only character that you really feel for, but that’s all that’s necessary for the film. Her tragic history makes this more recent tragedy even worse for her and more interesting for us to watch. She is the most volatile character in the film, and at any moment she could lose her cool and put herself and everyone there along with her in fatal jeopardy. The others are there to move the story forward –the ones there to overestimate their capabilities so much so that they make the adventure an unwelcome dip into toxic waters, instead of the intended fun adrenalin rush. Unfortunately because of these stiff character roles, who survives and who doesn’t is too predictable, but the scares along the way kind of make up for it.

Examining a horror movie is a difficult assignment. The genre is ruled almost exclusively by craftsmanship that is less than perfect. It escapes that rule every so often (more so in the past with movies like Psycho and The Exorcist), but you’d be foolish to go into the theater expecting to see a horror flick destined to be a classic. Because I set my expectations low, I’m okay with just the roller-coaster-effect. In fact, I’ve recommended The Descent to some friends, but most of them know better than to anticipate Oscar-status. Get a little scared or a little disturbed. Eat some popcorn, sit back, and get claustrophobic.

Trailer

Stranger Than Fiction - Trailer

Stranger Than Fiction


Okay, so it's not exactly a drama. Looks good, though. Buster (Tony Hale) from Arrested Development is in it.

Links
Official Site
Click here for the last Stranger Than Fiction post

New Xiu Xiu Album

Xiu Xiu kind of scares me. Whether or not it's their intention, they represent, for me, a seedy underbelly. The soccer dad, the churchgoer, the mothers, the uncles, the cousins, and all of their savage ghosts, all of their eerie idiosyncrasies. Xiu Xiu are that side of your consciousness that reminds you that you're not a perfect person. It frightens you because its so fucked up and you run away from it. The others that don't run are the murderers, the molesters, the self-mutilators. Then, there are the musicians, like Xiu Xiu, who express it through their music instead of weaponry, etc. Expressing it through both, these days, isn't that far fetched, but Xiu Xiu seem pretty safe.

Anyway, here they go again. According to the official site, Xiu Xiu's next album, The Air Force, is to be released on Sept. 15, 2006. It's produced by Deerhoof's Greg Saunier. I wonder if they experiment at all.

The Tracklist:

1. hello from eau claire
2. boy soprano
3. buzz saw
4. PJ in the streets of london
5. vulture piano
6. saint pedro glue stick
7. save me
8. bishop, CA
9. watermelon vs. the pineapple
10. the fox and the rabbit
11. wig master

This isn't exactly the newest of news, but the post was inspired by some great live footage of the duo from 2004:

Xiu Xiu: Clowne Towne

Xiu Xiu: Crank Heart

Meet The Horrors

The Horrors are a band from London. You will hear from them very soon. There is no word on their full-length debut, but when it hits, they'll be in America shortly after. The buzz is building and building and it will surely climax all over the face of the U.S. Apparently over in London, the lines are around the corner for their performances and fans are waiting outside for five hours prior to showtime.

The Horrors are almost great. The copulation of 60s psychedelia and 70s punk is a captivating proposition, especially since they execute it in a corosive haunted house Birthday Party with Monster-Mash-Misfits in attendance. Their sound is somewhat original, and at the very least it's unlike what we've been hearing recently. Some of the music itself isn't very surprising and just straight up not good, but with time and some scrapping, their full-length could very well be critics' lovebug. Hearing a good, unique band of this decade with a typical lineup and without a broad use of electronics and instrumentation is a rarity, so I applaud them. Their horrorshow shtick is a silly gimmick but the kids will love it so I guess they should stick to it.

So, yes their perpetual-Halloween gothiness is sophomoric and nearly impossible to escape if there's ever a desire for change, but their music video directed by Chris Cunningham is actually kind of frightening. Not a Marilyn Manson frightening, but it's a'good. To be honest, I wasn't crazy about their other songs on their MySpace page, but I liked Sheena is a Parasite:

The Horrors: Sheena is a Parasite

Is Jimi Still Alive!?

Nope. But that's what they said about Tupac every time one of his posthumous recordings was released. Hell, I think I've mused on it a few times myself. I think people just wanted to ignore the logical explanations of how these recordings revealed themselves, and pretend their distant loved one was still pumping and thumping.

The logical explanation for the latest Jimi Hendrix uncovering is plain and simple. Some dude's wife found the reel-to-reel buried in a closet. How could you have possibly stepped over something like that? Well, this closet belonged to Jerry Simon, president of RSVP Music, the publishing company Hendrix signed to in 1966. So, you know that closet is a Manhattan-studio-sized walk-in.

The song was entitled Station Break and was recorded a year before he left for London where he would find stardom. Station Break was part of the 1966 New York session. The other songs from that session, Kato's Special, Flying On Instruments, and No Such Animal, have already been released. The copyright and the reel-to-reel of the newly uncovered piece will be auctioned off in New York on October 26. The Hendrix estate is entitled to half the proceeds of any royalties.

Like fans of Tupac, Hendrix fans never want to let go. It's kinda sad for them, especially for those who've been listening to the guitar-icon since he was alive. That's why Station Break will go for way too much green. Whoever owns it is going to profit incredibly off of fan-sentiment. 'No real fan of Hendrix lives without that new recording.' You gotta keep up, fucker!

So, get your check books out, kids. Don't you want an original Hendrix recording? It could be yours.

Steely Dan Finds Fountain of Youth!!

Steely Dan are pissed. Wa-wa-watch out. I've seen 'em get violent with their 2000 Grammy award -- wackin' folks over the head with undeserved hubris, embodied. Apparently, the lionized, but aging, sparkless musicians have it in for Owen Wilson. Damn, I love cross-medium feuding. It's nice to see every once in awhile.

So apparently, Steely Dan are under the impression that the film, You, Me, and Dupree's plot is directly nabbed from one of the band's song, Cousin Dupree off 2000's Two Against Nature.

"some hack writer or producer...like, took our character, this real dog sleeping on the couch and all and put him in the middle of some hokey 'Down and Out in Beverly Hills' ripoff story," Steely posted on their official band site, "THEY DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TO THINK UP A NEW FUCKING NAME FOR THE GUY!"

This came from a letter posted on their website. Who was the letter addressed to? Owen's bro Luke Wilson. I'll give you a quick, first person synopsis:

Remember us? We won Grammies. We liked Bottle Rocket, but now most of your parts suck, but you're cool. Cooler than Owen, the hack. We won Grammies. We want to complain about Owen, and not to Owen about his stinky movie. He has ruined his career by selling out and fucking with "pretty heavy artists like us." We're not whining about the idea, but that we didn't benefit from it. "No muffin basket, no flowers, nothing." Tell your brother to come down to one of our shows and apologize to our audience. There's some Steely Dan merch in it for him if he does. He's still going to hell, though, along with his "hollywood gangsters." If he doesn't comply and fucks with us, one of our huge, Vin Diesel-type fans is going to beat the shit out of one-a-yahs.

Age is a precise cycle. You're born with diapers. You die with diapers, sort of thing. I think the nearly 60-year-old Steely Dan members have reached the regression point of elderly prepubescence. They whine to someone about that someone's brother stealing their macaroni to make a new macaroni picture. Even though the 'victims' don't like either of them, they like the brother better, because he's pretty cool in the playground. And it's not even that the thief stole the 'roni, it's that he took it without asking. All the victims want from the thief is an apology professed in front of the class room. Oh yeah, and if it doesn't go down, the victim is going to get his friend's older brother to kick his ass.

Anyway, I'm sure You, Me, And Dupree chews on pubes, but don't make yourself out to be a fool in an effort to clobber it. At least it's not a shitty remake.

Links
The Steely Dan Letter 'o Hating

Spencer Krug - The Next Hardest Working Man in The Biz?

Spencer Krug is a songwriting-powerhouse, and we just can't get enough. Wolf Parade's popularity has allowed the band's co-writer to fire off his creative juices in places he just couldn't reach if it weren't for the Parade. Sunset Rubdown was Krug's songwriting showcased and distilled in fallen angel sing-alongs. The result was a disquieting work that matched, if not surpassed Wolf Parade. And, let's not forget Krug was one of the founding members of Frog Eyes, who he recently performed with during a Rubdown/Eyes tour.

Now, Krug brings us Swan Lake, a supergroup made up of the man himself, Daniel Bejar of Destroyer, and Carey Mercer of Frog Eyes. Three of pop rock's most mutated and delightfully disturbing songwriters couldn't possibly present us with anything short of breathtaking. We all know the supergroup is always a swell idea in theory, but usually stutters with a clash of ideas. VH1's favorite reality show produced the great supergroup model, Damnation. When an idea is the birth child of the dollar bill, whether it’s conscious or not, the music is the first to suffer, and then the listener (as is the case with Damnation). We can all comfortably say that Swan Lake is nothing of the sort, but will their visions clash? Sure, their music lives in the same village, and, though their houses are made of similar materials, they are structured differently and come in different colors. I guess we'll have to wait to hear.

Not for too long, at least. The album, Beast Moans is said to be released on November 21 by label, Jagjaguwar. Three songs have already been tagged with the songwriter. The tracklist goes somein' like this:

1. Widow's Walk
2. Nubile Days (written by Krug)
3. City Calls
4. A Venue Called Rubella
5. All Fires
6. The Partisan But He's Got To Know (written by Mercer)
7. The Freedom
8. Petersburg, Liberty Theater, 1914
9. The Pollenated Girls
10. Bluebird
11. Pleasure Vessels
12. Are You Swimming In Her Pools?
13. Shooting Rockets (written by Bejar)

OK Computer DVD Extravaganza

September 19! That's the day, ladies and gents. In case you've forgotten that Radiohead's OK Computer is a halfway decent album, MVD and Sexy Intellectual are comin'atcha to remindya that it is...good and shit. Cleverly entitledRadiohead: OK Computer – A Classic Album Under Review the DVD is said to include either a studio or live performance of every song on the historic album. It also comes with album insights from experts on the subject of Radiohead. Wait, what was that? Experts? Sure, these "experts" are just Radiohead biographers who've lost touch with things above ground, but it's about time our British avant-compadres got some experts. Let's crack open the Dom Perignon.

Kevin Smith is Lewd & Joel Siegel Has Somethin' Up In His Heinie

So, you hear about this feud? Kevin Smith and Joel Siegel. We're done with the east-coast/west-coast rivalries, and we've regressed back to the battle of taste. 1950s retro, baby.

Smith's Clerks II has hit the screening rooms, and Siegel was there for one of them...but not for long - 40 minutes to be exact. Offended by bestiality jokes (come on, Siegel-'ol-boy), the "Good Morning America" film critic left the theater, but not before he tried to rally his peers: "Time to go!'' and "This is the first movie I've walked out of in 30 fucking years!" Sources say the critic was seen exiting the theater with the pink cord of a cheerleader's baton poking out his rear pucker.

You called it. That last bit was a fib. I have to say, though, I don't expect anything more than a few dick and fart jokes from Clerks II, but Siegel's gotta chill out. I haven't seen the movie yet, but I'm thinking I'll agree with Siegel. I don't get offended, but if there's no wit to the madness, than all you've got is an Andrew Dice Clay routine. When you get right down to it, though, no matter how terrible the film is, you've got to at least show some decency. At least have sympathy for Smith who obviously couldn't cut it without the Jay and Silent Bob duo, and had to throw out any hope for something grander than Clerks (See the Weezer syndrome).

Smith and Siegel confronted each other yesterday morning on the "Opie & Anthony Show." It was decency that Smith hoped Siegel would show the movie. The Clerks II director didn't even mind him leaving, but to disrupt the screening was what Smith called, "unprofessional." The best part of the confrontation was that Siegel didn't even realize he was speaking to Smith until the hosts let him in on the not-so-classified information. A bit absent-minded our friend is.

Links
Spin Magazine's report w/ all the facts from an unimportant news event
The audio file of yesterday's confrontation

The Rapture's New Album On The Way

The Rapture are back. Their new album is called Pieces of the People We Love. We'll see it in stores on September 4. What can we expect from the new album. I'm sayin' club sensation 2006. I know, we've talked about the single already. You can find the review here, but my I believe my expectations will come true. The album has been produced by not one, but two producers with electronic and techno experience: Paul Epsworth from Danger Mouse fame, and Ewan Pearson who has remixed the Chemical Brothers. Still don't think we're going to be hearing a mirrored-ball boosted variant of Echoes? Well, check out this tracklist:

1. Don Gon Do It
2. Pieces Of The People We Love
3. Get Myself Into It
4. First Gear
5. The Devil
6. Whoo! Alright - Yeah... Uh Huh
7. Calling Me
8. Down For So Long
9. The Sound
10. Live In Sunshine

So, not all of them show signs of disco freak-out, but, come on, Whoo! Alright - Yeah... Uh Huh. It calls to mind the beginning of my review of Get Myself Into It (single released August 21), but I'm not going to give into that part of me that wants to scream out, "I told you so!" I just hope they're sense of humor travels far past their song titles.

Band of Horses Live on The Late Show with David Letterman

On July 13, Band of Horses got their chance to show America why they're one of the hottest live bands around right now. Hottest as in lukewarm in the grand scale, but they're still packin' the venues. They open their performance of The Funeral powerfully with some vibrant vocals and an atmosphere that is mournful, but poignant. They present themselves as a solid band who can rock the train off the track, but who don't work towards much more. The lyrics are good, but the guitars in this guitar-driven band are less than compelling. It's difficult to innovate this brand of music, even when your sound is affecting. The sound has been built upon, deconstructed, and rearranged, all with improving technology, so at this point, you've got to get a little crazy to impress the jaded. Had The Band of Horses taken more chances, I think this Letterman performance would have exhibited something bigger, something mature and exciting. Instead, we get a great performance from an unremarkable group with an interesting vocalist (who's still as derivative as the rest of them).

Arcade Fire New Album Info

For mystery to enfold the details of musicians and their bands, there must be a very meticulous engineering of anticipation for a new album. Tool are one of those bands whose obscurity sells their records. They'll print false album titles and track listings, or print nothing at all. They actually trick their millions of fans into believing, once an album does hit the stores, that it's the greatest thing since King Crimson's Discipline, because, well, it was a secret weapon, and if you learned even just one thing about it, the big big surprise would have been ruined.

The Arcade Fire seem like the right kind of band to choreograph this sort of calculating, false sense of suspense. Perhaps because the band have only reached its infancy stages, they don't have that faculty. Instead, they enforce the time honored tradition of a tickling with chunks of information. Their second LP, which won't be released for awhile, has been the subject of much chatter in the band's journal on The Arcade Fire's official site.

A few days ago Win Butler revealed that they will be producing the album themselves with the help of two engineers, one of whom worked on Animal Collective's Feels. They've been recording in a studio-furbished church and have already recorded on a Dracula-sized pipe-organ. Butler told his readers that a lot of the songs sound of the night near the ocean, and wants to do some recording, you guessed it, near the ocean.

It sounds as if the Candian bacon of inspiration has been sizzling with the band for the past month in their home of Montreal. New instruments. New settings. New ideas. I've got this feeling they're going to top themselves. I guess we'll just have to wait and hear, and not load our pants over these posts that can never satisfy our appetites for a new album.

Thom Yorke Performs on The Henry Rollins Show

Aired on July 15, Thom Yorke with the help of Jonny Greenwood and Nigel Godrich performed songs off of The Eraser on IFC's The Henry Rollins Show.

The Clock:
Yorke is at it alone here. The electronic havoc of the album version, the one with the thick bassline that punches in the beatboxy reiteration, is replaced with an acoustic version on the performance. The community of digital sounds and pulses becomes a Zeppelin-like guitar. The speedy riff repeats under the delicate power of Yorke's distinctly Radiohead vocal melody, but when his lyrical melodies morph into the wordless ones, the song immediately becomes its most evocative. But no matter how deep Yorke finds himself in his song, he still looks like he's having a blast.

View The Clock


Cymbal Rush:
This live perfomance is the stripped-down version of the sprawling digi-composition on the LP. Here, you see the radiance in the song with only its most basic components laid out for you. The hoofing rhythm and the mad-science-lab-bleeps are gone, but replaced with Jonny Greenwood's Ondes Martenot space-cries. The sound becomes much more Kid A than it does The Eraser, especially when Greenwood's playing flies over the forward-movement of the Rhodes piano. The familiarity to the Radiohead album doesn't change the fact that the chord progression is Yorke at his best, with bliss and gloom in the very same movement. Nigel Godrich stops by to lay on the drum beat.

View Cymbal Rush


Both songs are modified to a point where they are barely in reach of their original versions. They accent the minor splendor of the songwriting, but sacrifice the complex edge. This is what Yorke's audience might have needed to recognize that The Eraser's melodies and progressions aren't quite as lacking as much as its knack for details.