Haunting Grounds

The week ends, finally. 


I spent some of last night indulging in a little late night videogame session with my 360. Having finally made it to the current generation of consoles (I always seem to wait, saving tons of time and money as a result) I have had quite a backlog of the Best-ofs to work through, to my joy and my wife's dismay. One of the games, though, was rather fresh and less acclaimed. Alan Wake, a freaky deeky affair drawing heavily on Silent Hill, Twin Peaks and Stephen King, was a no-brainer. Touching on all the hallmarks I love, it's been super fun and super creepy so far. I'm only into the third chapter as of this writing. What came leaping out of the blue, though, was the song that closed the second chapter, 'Haunted' by Poe. As soon as I heard it, I had one of those striking moments of clarity where you see just how much overlap there is in your life when you really hone in on what makes you tick. Hearing the song set the gears in my head to work and I sat listening to the track, marvelling at the coincidence and how great the song is.

It's a shame Poe hasn't had wider success. She's had some, but not to the level she deserves for her craft. Born Anne Danielewski, Poe has had stop-and-start jaunts in her career as a singer. Her first album, Hello, was a hit in the mid 90s with the single 'Angry Johnny'; it even went gold. Her second outing, Haunted, was a struggle to get done and under-performed, despite strong reviews. Her label dropped her, only to see her fight against the current and keep grinding, making more of a name for herself in the world of independent music and fighting legal battles over the rights of her music. So while she is making progress every day, her music languishes undeservingly in relative obscurity. At one time she was huge, these days not so much. One has to wonder, given the quality of the music Poe creates, if it's just a twist of fate and not a fickle public that has kept her from broader success. Such is life.

Despite the decrease in momentum, there are still people discovering her music. Such was my case, as I was doing research on House of Leaves a few years ago, having only gotten a chance to read it some 5+ years after its release. I've already written about my love and confusion over the dense and symbolic text. So when I had read that the author Mark Danielewski's sister had created a companion album that loosely tied in with the book, I was quite curious. What I found was fantastic. Poe made a great album. In particular, though, the song 'Haunted' stood out as definite high point. 

Starting off with drums and a chiming guitar fading in like wind blowing the tune in from a window, Poe sneaks into the track by airily singing onomatopoeia, just bopping along to the eerie pop song. When it becomes fully realized for the first verse her voice is suddenly full and rich, her notes having weight but not feeling overwrought. The manner in which the song transitions from minor key verses to a major chorus is slick and subtle, a catchy if curious trick of the trade. The hook is pure pop, Poe's voice becoming light and lilting in contrast to the stark and ominous verses. It's a great contrast that shows her talent as a writer and musician, the back and forth of styles growing each time it occurs. 


I love this song - that it keeps popping up in my life only makes me appreciate it's vibe and story all the more. I dug Poe back around her first album; this song was in the soundtrack of a movie I took a date to, which was an all around disaster; I fell heavy for it during my first read-through of House of Leaves; now it pops up in one of my favorite games. I love little coincidences like that, that this same song could keep popping up, this little thread running through my life whether or not I'm aware of it. It reminds me of how 'Make Your Own Kind of Music' kept popping up in Lost. It becomes a sort of leit motif. 


'Haunted' by Poe is no doubt going to keep popping up in my life, whether I want it to or not. I'm going to embrace it and count myself lucky that it's a great song by an artist who would appreciate the attention. Maybe she doesn't want to be a multi platinum act, selling out stadiums. That doesn't mean I shouldn't spread the good word about this talented, criminally under-appreciated artist. Go download her music now, before another label causes problems. 

Reassembly

I'm typing this during a rainstorm while wearing gigantic headphones.


Not because I mind the sound of the rain, I should clarify, but because I'm trying to pay rapt attention to the music. After yesterday's long winded autopsy on Nine Inch Nails and the stretched-to-the-max The Fragile, I wanted to go back in for one last peak at the body. What I found surprised me.


As I tried to convey yesterday, there's an undercurrent of decay and collapse running through The Fragile. From lyrical references to song titles to the cover art suggesting entombing, the album has a pervasive sense of death and decomposition. The coda to the album, the incredibly divisive and derided Things Falling Apart, addresses this theme in a rather meta-contextual manner.

Released in freshly on the heels of The Fragile in 2000, I picked up the remix/manipulation compilation almost on a whim, as I had really enjoyed the source material. There were a few tunes that stuck out as interesting but they were surrounded by a relentless army of remixes of 'Starf*ckers, Inc.', an already abrasive track whose problems were only exasperated in their re-working. These others, though...something was trying to get through. 


I should clarify that I am aware of the reputation Nine Inch Nails have for theatrics and heavy handed emoting. I get it. I do. I see the overwrought nature of the posing and hit-you-on-the-head subtlety of some of the themes and analogies Reznor has employed. Despite these obvious quirks and flaws, I am still a fan of the band, if not for the unconventional sounds, then for the groundbreaking distribution methods and innovations they conjure. So hopefully that stops any internal monologues about "well what does this guy know?" because, hey - it fits with the rest of my obsession with spooky nighttime music.


Moving on.


The point I was making earlier in the post was that if The Fragile represented Reznor accepting the death and decay of a relationship and the loss of life we all accept as people (subtle stuff, right?) then Things Falling Apart would be the process of replacing the failing parts with mechanical workings, swapping out decayed tissue for metal plates. Strings and guitars get swapped for thumps and clicks, whirs and hums. While critics bagged on this release for it's lack of new sounds, save for a Gary Numan cover appropriately titled 'Metal', I loved the re-working of the sounds from The Fragile.

Hearing Reznor take 'Into The Void' and transmogrify it into a slippery, robotic chant where the only vocals are Reznor insisting "I keep slipping away..." is a strange and evocative thing when you love the source material. 'The Wretched' becomes a swarm of angry robotics, clicking and buzzing instead of churning over a piano beat. 'The Frail' becomes an uncanny hybrid of machine sounds and violins, illustrating the dichotomy at hand in gorgeous fashion. 'Where Is Everybody?' sees Reznor's vocals completely hacked into new sounds and phrases, creating the feeling of machines imploring the question in the title. 'The Great Collapse' is a new track but in keeping with the concept, it is a wholly metallic and synthetic tune, reminiscent of material from the Pretty Hate Machine era.

I can go all apologist with this material, but I still unabashedly adore what Reznor can do with simple ideas. The Fragile is both great and flawed for it's simple concepts stretched to long form. Here we see the same ideas flipped and turned inside out, only now it does sound more fresh than at the end of The Fragile. While I love the corpse of The Fragile, the cyborg/reanimated monster of Things Falling Apart is just as fascinating.

Hidden Glory

Evening, gang!

Yesterday I wrote about Young the Giant's superb single 'My Body', which has proven to be a great song that has some staying power. In the interest of looking at the world from the opposite perspective I want to spread the good word about a song that never hit the charts like that, at all. I want to let everyone know about the amazing-ness that is Craig's Brother and their phenomenal song, 'Glory'.

Whereas Young the Giant have had the backing of a major label and tons of buzz, Craig's Brother were/are a fairly obscure band on Tooth & Nail Records. Tooth & Nail is often labeled a Christian record label, but that's really not the case - they just tended to be more affiliated with Christian acts than others and ended up with that reputation as a result. So Craig's Brother was a small punk outfit, grinding away on the label. They released a couple albums with them, but their behavior (which tended to cause issues with some family-friendly distributors) got them dropped. The band split for a while, but has since reformed and released another album. In all that time, though, I really only heard one great song of theirs on a compilation and then nothing after that for years. That one song, though, really stayed with me. So I want to make sure just as many people are aware of this great song as they are of yesterday's song.

'Glory', released by the band on their barely-promoted 2001 album Lost At Sea, is a speeding and intense number about the absurdity of sending our children off to war. To clarify, this is not critical of American foreign policy and our current conflicts, as it was released before any of our modern wars. Rather the song is about the seemingly incomprehensible notion of sending impossibly young men out to wage war and die for concepts that are, at times, ill defined. The opening lines, in particular, are revelatory: "And I wonder how Franklin felt in '42 when the war's still new but I'm tired of fighting..." Singer Ted Bond goes on to sing about the dichotomy of how we tend to idealize these young men as unimpeachable heroes while in reality they were just as scared and uncertain as anyone else could be. It is, in essence, a complex song whose message is not clear cut.

Despite the uncertain tone of the lyrics I was hooked by the music Bond put beneath them. The vocals and instrumentation are clearly inspired by Bad Religion and Pennywise, possessing the fast-ball tempo and rapid-fire guitar and bass parts. I love the central riff with the single guitar lick over the chords. The way the band drops to half-time in the chorus is fantastic, as well. That subtle switch offers a brief respite from what would otherwise be a repetitive number.


Not every band gets their fair shake. Not every album leaps to the top of the charts, or even finds their audience in the world of P2P and iTunes. Craig's Brother was troubled from the get go, but in their time together they crafted one of my secret favorite songs. There is no one else I know that has even heard of the group. Hopefully after reading this, you'll give them a chance.

Live Wire

Happy Weekend!

I wrote yesterday about the mixed reaction I had (along with everyone else) about Bush's Razorblade Suitcase. It was an album I loved at the time, but of which I have since become skeptical. In contrast, today's post is about an album with which I was initially quite disappointed but have since warmed to greatly. The suspect in question? On A Wire by The Get Up Kids.

 I've previously given long winded dissertations on The Get Up Kids and how much their music meant to me, especially at a time in my life when music like theirs could really lift my spirits. I was, as a teenager, head over heels for the group, devotedly listening to Four Minute Mile, Something To Write Home About and the b-Side/outtakes collection Eudora. At the time, I was gasping for more material, having worn out those albums in my ears. As great as they were, I could hardly wait for their next album to come out. When the group released On A Wire in the spring of my senior year of high school I was perplexed, to say the least. A quiet album full of unfamiliar sounds, I felt that I had little to relate to in it. Where were the raging anthems and howling cries of anguished teenage angst?

They outgrew them, it turned out. In turn I would as well.

While I scratched my head at the time, I understand now that band had simply gotten tired of playing the kind of music they did, night after night. Shows like that will drain the life out of you, even if you enjoy it, let alone being on the road non-stop. So the band took a step back and examined their perspective, beginning to write songs from a new creative place. The results were more measured, the kind of album you put on while cleaning your apartment, not while enduring the angst of teenage melodrama. Songs were softer. Their playing was more restrained. I was, as a die hard fan, completely confused. Certainly I wasn't the only one who felt this way, given their track record in light of this shift in tone.



But I persisted. 


I gave the album a chance, listening to a song or two, here and there. There were songs that immediately jumped out as solid and enjoyable - the single 'Overdue', with it's soft strumming and cooed melody, or the closer 'Hannah Hold On', which fit easily in their canon. 'Walking On A Wire' really struck me then, and has only grown more powerful as I've grown older, the mixed emotion and tone playing so strongly. Still, though - the album felt like it wasn't written to with my audience in mind. Years later I would get a better sense of why.

As I edge closer to 30, like the band that wrote the album, I appreciate the slowing down. I dig the songwriting on display and the experiments the band made. The Get Up Kids took a hell of a risk with On A Wire and while it may have hobbled their momentum, it was an inevitable and necessary step. They've never really gone back to the hurtling anthems of their glory days, but then who ever does? They've grown older and more insightful and the songs reflect that. There was a feeling I got, listening to this album as I left my entire life behind to leave home, that the band was writing to that idea. A huge chapter in my life had come to a close and the same had happened with the band. They were done being the emo-rockers they had been revered as, and simply moved on. 


Truth be told, I didn't get it when it came out. I felt betrayed and let down, like a magical thing had vanished from the earth. What I found instead, was the band had hidden something in plain sight. On A Wire is actually a great album, I just wasn't ready for it yet.

Nobody Wins, Ever

What's up, gang?


Book Worm Week is over and done. I feel pretty good about it. In hindsight I don't feel like I made a total fool out of myself or betrayed a complete lack of comprehension. If I did I certainly wasn't aware of it. To thank you for stick around during the theme week, I thought I'd share a bit of a tale about music and the ebb and flow of bands. Something a little literary and a little musical, perhaps. 


Here goes.


After a tumultuous senior year of high school my parents made the kind suggestion that perhaps I'd be better off with my uncle Chuck on the west coast, where I could make a little money in his tavern and get away from unsavory influences. I figured my life as I knew it, up to that point, was ending, so what the hell? A single suitcase later, I was heading to Federal Way, Washington to live with Chuck, the two of us sharing his lovely suburban home. I toiled away in the tavern and spent my free time either chain-smoking and reading on his deck (I've long since quit - youthful indiscretion) or wandering local galleries and taking in the Seattle sights.

Being a young man with no friends and little family in the area (Hi Gail! Hi Ben!) I was at a loss for what to do while in the area for the four months I lived in the Pacific Northwest. Unlike my recent obsession with Twin Peaks, this was a sunny, adventurous time of my life, full of punk music and sunshine. So imagine my delight then, when my cousin Jason (and boss, let's be honest) offered a ticket from a friend to the Warped Tour. I was stoked. Only catch - it was three hours away in the Gorge amphitheater and I had no one to go with. This being the days before Craigslist, I decided to just say the hell with it and hopped in the car with a couple packs of smokes and some soda, making the three hour drive through the mountains to see the show.

It was a beautiful drive - we have nothing like the mountains in the middle west. There's just nothing that compares to the clear air of the coast. The Gorge is a hell of a place to see a show, I should say. A natural amphitheater, a whole slew of stages were set up, too many bands to see at any given time to take it all sufficiently in. Aside from the mainstays like NOFX, Bad Religion and Lagwagon and some local band that did a great cover of 'Holiday Road' from National Lampoon's Vacation, there was one little band that caught my ear.


Nobody Wins.


I asked some pierced and tattooed girl near me who they were and she could only offer a name. In my pre-wiki days I thought I'd never hear them again, so I paid rapt attention to their heavy yet melodic show, damn energetic and passionate. I thought I had stumbled on something fantastic and unknown. Plunking down what little money I had at the time, I picked up their only CD - a single with two B-sides, title 'Words Unspoken'. I loved it.


But that was all I ever heard from them. 


Even now, I can only find this bare bones Myspace page. How is that possible? Listen to the tracks they put on their page and tell me there aren't countless inferior groups that get more airplay every day. How did I hear this band once, and then never again?


It's stayed with me all these years, this secret awesome single that no one else seems to have any knowledge of. Anyone with any info on the band, throw it in the comments. All I know is they were based out of Seattle and may have put out one more album that I've heard, but it was like a rough precursor to the single. What connection do they have to this other group, The Four Color Process? There seemed like so much promise, but instead they vanished into thin air. 


Damn shame.

Console Nation

Kids, it's time we say goodbye to Video Game Week.


This most likely comes with a rounding cheer from a heart segment of my audience, while coming from a heavy heart. I really do love to apply analysis and critical thought to my gaming. Whether its the simplest indulgence, like button mashing and rhythm games, or the headiest, most convention defying experience to date, I love examining the phenomenon that occurs when we play games. I really appreciate the fact that anyone here would read my thoughts on a field that has no shortage of self-righteous essays and pretentious diatribes, not just from me but from much more talented, witty writers. 

I could honestly fill pages upon pages with content devoted to my love of gaming but in the interest of not shedding any more readers, I'll just round up the few posts on the subject that I have done and get back to what I do best - heartfelt examinations of the music that makes people tick. While there may be the occasional post on games in the future, they will much more sporadic, that's for sure. For example, I hardly mentioned the unsung hero of games - soundtracks. Someday, kids. Some day. 


Here's anything and everything I've written about button mashing:


Zombies Ate My Neighbors - an old post about a sublime SNES game, which is a love letter to B-Movies.
Silent Hill 2 - the scariest and most captivating experience I've ever had with a game, bar none.
Gamespite - a look at the most funny and intelligent gaming community I've seen, headed by Jeremy Parish.
S.T.U.N. Runner - a whimsical tale about lost memories from my childhood. And Chuck E. Cheese!
Scribblenauts - I wrote about this smart little game after a pre-flight happy-hour and some in-flight DS time.
Grabbed By The Ghoulies - Rare's black sheep that's really not too bad, worth the few dollars it goes for these days.
Maniac Mansion - a groundbreaking classic, as fun then as it is now. Another of many loving homages to Horror.
ToeJam & Earl - Co-op ahead of its time, a stealth masterpiece of the Sega Genesis.
Link's Awakening - The secret-best Zelda game which goes undeservedly neglected these days.
Dragon Warrior 4 - In which I wax nostalgic about exploring and having a curious mind as a child.
Virtual Bart - The hidden redemptive qualities of minigames and the mindless pleasures they afford.

That wraps up Video Game Week for me, kids. Starting tomorrow I get back on my grind with the more traditional music-based posts and articles. Down the line we'll have more themed weeks, like Book Worm Week and a special Halloween themed series. Until then, I'll see you guys on the flip side. Thanks for reading.

Chocolate Frosted Minigames

Evening, kids.


A brief word about tonight's post - the title is, to be blunt, stolen from a 30 Rock joke about horrible cereals. I found it fitting for the subject matter, because like stealing jokes, minigames are often mindless, lazy and derivative. There are times, though, when no matter how capable you may be or how broad your palette may be, you just want mindless, stupid laughs. That's where minigames come in.


To be honest I'm not a devoted advocate of the much maligned yet massively popular format. Certainly the Wii helped popularize them. Indeed there seems to be a glut of shovelware these days - just games crammed into the checkout aisle next to candy-bars and bottle soda, eager to swindle you out of $10 and your respect for the gaming industry. Not all minigame collections are inherently bad; more to the core of the issue not all are created equal. One of my favorite of the genre is a comparative antique - the launch title for the original Xbox, Fusion Frenzy. I loved making drinking games out of the 60-second intervals of frantic gameplay the inexpensive title brought in college. Simple games that mimicked the Powerball game from American Gladiators or the one in which you either jump over or duck under hurtles and pipes as they come flying toward your character - these were great for a little levity before heading out on a Friday or Saturday night with friends. While it is common place now, a few rounds of Halo wouldn't have quite the same jovial effect on our group of friends. Some mindless button mashing, timed to ever-changing patterns and reflex tests? Super fun when beer is added to the mix. 

But not all minigames are for parties. One of my favorites that brought me much secret joy over the years (again, in college) was found in an obscure old title for SNES and the Genesis. There were a lot of winter nights as a student in which I would be done with my studies (sort of) and home with nothing good (free) to do. My better half attending University 1000 miles away, I had to while away the time doing something while we chatted on the phone, growing closer as we broke down the details of our respective days. When I wasn't spending these conversations cooking Ramen or pizza rolls (a habit I have mercifully quit in the last six years) I would fire up my copy of the long-forgotten Simpsons tie-in Virtual Bart and play a particular game.

The Simpsons, Gospel though they may be, have a terrible track record for video games. Almost every single one has been a dismal, unquestionable failure, and yet I have played so many of them with so much patience. Virtual Bart was just another in a long line of stinkers with Bart-branding, skating by on it's merchandising license. The central concept was that Bart straps in to a Virtual Reality machine at a Springfield Elementary Science Fair and all kinds of wacky hi-jinx ensue. Most of the games were awful and too simple to be fun, even for a minigame. 

One game, though, I could not turn away from. It was, for lack of a proper title, a shooting gallery. Bart simply stands outside the school before the Science Fair and hurls tomatoes at his classmates, getting points for every one he hits. As you progress authority figures show up, wandering back and forth through the scenery and blocking your targets. That's it -  no big concept. No major threat, no big reward. Just try to nail Rod and Todd Flanders with tomatoes. I was completely hooked. More than once I would exclaim "YES!" while on the phone with my eventual wife. When questioned on it I would have to explain why I was so excited to have pegged Ralph Wiggum. She understood my excitement and that is why I married her. 


Not all gaming has to be high-brow, expensive execution. Sometimes all you need is a simple, gratifying execution of concept. Time your throws and take aim - that's all you need to blow off a little steam and kill a cold, lonely winter night.

Lost In Translation

Evening!


...and now to scare off the audience...


It's officially Video Game Week! 


I mentioned in one of my first posts back from vacation that I would be doing more theme weeks and fleshing out my concepts to a fuller degree. This will serve as the first of such endeavors. So strap in and get ready to be subjected to my thoughts on old, forgotten and underrated Games I Have Loved. First up - Rare's momentum-killing Grabbed By The Ghoulies!

I say this, of course, with an affectionate disdain that any chagrined gamer can attest to wearing. The game is known, in some circles, as being one of the first major missteps by a company whose track record was otherwise legendary. Rare, the British game studio behind the deservedly loved Donkey Kong Country, Goldeneye, Killer Instinct and Banjo Kazooie, had been acquired by Microsoft in a rather controversial move. The first IP they released in the wake of the Microsoft acquisition was the curious, distinctly styled Grabbed By The Ghoulies. Until this point that company had maintained a solid string of critical and commercial successes. Here, though, was their first stumble. As a matter of course, the game became an exclusive Xbox title, released in 2003 to little fanfare. It lives on in infamy with few devoted fans. I humbly count myself among their numbers. But I'll get to that in a minute. First, a little background.

The premise for the game is simple and straight-forward: protagonist Cooper's girlfriend Amber is kidnapped by Baron Von Ghoul after the pair stumble into his haunted mansion and it is up to Cooper to free his love from Von Ghoul's captivity and requisite minions.  It's all by the numbers, with little meat to it, but to be honest, the plot is almost ancillary to gameplay. While many games as of late grow over the top with their convoluted plots, Rare has often set up intricately-made games with the most basic plot, under the guise that plot really is window dressing to get you to the fun. (Par example - someone stole the bananas! Get 'em, DK!) The action is simple - almost everything is done by the two thumb-sticks on the massive Xbox controller we all hated, save a few key moments where a string of buttons get you out a quick-time-event (ugh) scare sequence. Basically you work Cooper through room after room in the mansion, just beating up zombies, imps, skeletons, mummies and other horror mainstays. As you progress, challenges are thrown in the mix to keep things interesting - don't get hit, time limits, kill only these things, etc. The house is filled with things to use as weapons - furniture, plates, whatever can be picked up. The gameplay is so straightforward it's almost hard to believe Rare was behind it. My first time playing it I wondered if I was missing something.

But really it's not even about the gameplay, for me. I think I picked it up for a whole two dollars back in 2006, looking for something to amuse me during a cold winter that saw me A - being quite broke and B - living near a Gamestop. The simplicity of the game made it fun to dink around in while I listened to podcasts. I loved the atmosphere Rare created. It brought back memories of the Halloween sections of the first Banjo Kazooie, which I loved. I got the feeling it was Rare's love letter to old horror films, flaws and all. In some ways it calls to mind the gameplay of Zombies Ate My Neighbors, only updated and dumbed down. As a fresh-out-of-college slacker it was great for having a beer and goofing off with friends, even if we just riffed on how bad some elements of play could be. Hell, look at the title - Grabbed By The Ghoulies. It's a game based around a bit of British slang, of all buzz-killing marketing techniques. I've heard (completely unverified) rumors that Rare named the game before there was a concept, potentially as a sequel to the (column pending) Conker's Bad Fur Day. 

Despite all my kvetching and dog-piling on a game that's almost 10 years old and forgotten by almost all, I still dust off the ol' black box to give it a spin when I miss that time in my life. For a mere two dollars, I got a surprising amount of play out of it. Somehow it made the cut for the Xbox Originals downloads section of the Live Marketplace, again for cheap. For a more positive, affectionate spin on why I might keep coming back to it, check out this write up for kinder words. If you're looking for a bit of a curiosity in the annals of gaming, give it a whirl - maybe you'll find it as charming as I did.


Just don't tell anyone.

I Land

In the spirit of sharing, I'm taking today's space to impart upon the reader some things I learned whilst I visited the tropical island of Maui. 


Yes, it was my Honeymoon. No, I will not foist my pictures on the world for affirmation, nor will I offer condescending, pseudo-sage advice. Instead I'll just let my brain out for a little while to roam and see what I've retained from my experience in anti-thinking. That was, you see, the essence of the trip - after the stress and meticulous coordination of an insane and astounding wedding, both the better half and I were afforded the opportunity to shut our brains off and relax. So what did they process in the down time? Let's probe the lobe:


1 - No amount of preparation will prepare a WASP. No amount of sunscreen, however strong (SPF Flannel) or copious (freshly laundered shirts still emit odors) the lotion or spray - you will burn something. Thankfully ours were minimized to my gargantuan nose and the top of my better half's right ear. She got lucky.


2 - No matter how stupid it may be to your instincts, cars are both plentiful and almost essential. "But you're on an island" my subconscious would protest. "Yeah, but I'm not walking to the far side of the island across the Highway" my ego would counter. Yeah, we took the bus sometimes and did a ton of walking whenever possible. Still, it would have been much less relaxing without a car. "But it's an island!" Yes, subconscious, it's a modern American island.

3 - I will most likely never get over LOST. It wasn't even filmed on Maui, yet the whole time it was this little ghost in the back of my mind. Everywhere I went I gave the scenery another curious glance, gaining a whole new appreciation for the show. Not just the plot and setting of a tropical island, but that 99% of it was filmed in Oahu. I saw a commercial for a local school and I realized halfway through that it was the setting for any British University scenes on the show. Yep, huge nerd. Probably incurable.

4 - Further illustrating my incurable nerd-itis: when given a towel, be it on a boat, beach or bar, I wrap it around my neck like a cape. Yeah. Given my build it can either make me look like the Doctor or Tetsuo. Neither of the two really work with shorts, I have to say.

5 - Sushi is much better when it's caught, say, 5 miles away as opposed to having fish in the middle of a landlocked state in a very wide continent. Additionally, something about the ponzu sauce in a particular roll was so satisfying that it caused my better half to remark "What is it in this that tastes like my childhood?" It had a profound affect on both of us. Fish was so fresh that the best poke we found, following tips from locals, was at the local Foodmart. Dig:

6 - A little chili powder on freshly sliced fruit is unusually delightful. You don't have to try it. Just sayin'.


7 - Not heeding the warning my cousin imparted at the wedding, I found the hard way that excessive consumption of citrus makes the mouth raw. To quote Drew "If it feels like your mouth is being tenderized, lay off the pineapple." Turns out it goes double if it's accompanying your Mai Tai, which are too awesome for me to have on a regular basis. But man, for a fortnight I was totally sold on rum.

8 - Rice as a side for breakfast really deserves to catch on here on the mainland. We do potatoes with everything here, why not switch it up for funsies? Plus, goes great with over-easy eggs!


9 - I am a nervous pervis, to the bitter end. In Minnesota I fret about bugs. The problem in Maui? SNAKES. I think that trumps ants and mosquitoes. I did enjoy the helicopter tour of the island, I assure you. But I would remiss not to admit my first thought as we lifted off was my paranoid brain realizing "OH GOD THESE THINGS CAN CRASH" like it had never occurred to me. Still, a beautiful tour and I took lots of pictures. Like this one. Of me. In long pants and shoes. On the beach.

10 - Even in a resort created specifically to cater to tourists I still feel sheepish about being a tourist. It never ends. Thanks to my experiences under the Bush regime I will never stop pretending to be Canadian. I'm still surprised at the altar I didn't say "I do, eh?" I refused to wear a Hawaiian shirt. Why? Too touristy. I'm uptight, I know. 


11 - When the time is right just have dessert and don't feel guilty. Will you die from it? Maybe, if you do it every day and for breakfast. But for a week straight on Honeymoon? Damn straight. 


12 - Never eat chocolate in bed. You drop one little piece and the cleaning staff wants a big tip. Try to plead your case, I dare you. Spoiler: you will be embarrassed. 


Look at that list. You may interpret that as an unhappy take on the whole affair, but really it's quite the opposite. I think if you look past the surface of self deprecation you can dig that I loved it and really relished turning my mind off for a while. No worry about plans or traffic or politics or taking out the trash or even feeding the cat. It was an amazing trip, and a wonderful first step into married life. The two of us travel well together. So here we are now, home and free to live our lives together, one day at a time. I'm glad we had the adventure we did. Now we start an even bigger one together. I'll see you tomorrow for a more traditional post, eh?


13 - Oh, poi? Pretty unpleasant. Not inedible. Just not necessary.

Unbreak

Well, lookie what we have here!


It's been far too long, dear friends. Far, far too long.


What's new? You look good. You have a good Fourth? Been hot, right? Tell me about it.


So.


I'm married now. I'm a husband. I have a wife. Not, like, to own - someone who gets me. Couldn't be happier, honestly. The wedding was, in a word, fantastic. That's the word I kept using all night - fantastic, evoking the essence of fantasy. Everything I ever wanted. All my closest family and friends in one place, all of them feeling the love. My better half looked amazing. Simply stunning, if you saw for yourself. In fact, see the amazing Homeless Pennies for a little insight. Her take on the whole day made me smile. Everyone was in a joyous mood. 


Not to self-aggrandize too much but it clicked with me at some point during the reception just how positive my life has become since I've been writing this blog. By focusing on sharing awesome things with the world I've rekindled my sense of optimism and positive perspective. Instead of looking for the worst and snarking about the world (of which I am still frequently guilty) I find great pleasure in shared marveling and simply communal appreciation. This sounds really corny, doesn't it?  


You know what? I don't care. I shouldn't feel sheepish about being happy. There have been times in which I feel foolish for writing here on a daily basis. However, coming off the roller coaster that is getting married and going on a honeymoon, it's easy to see how much life is improved with a positive attitude. Whereas I felt myself burning out as I approached the finish line, I write this with a renewed vigor and joix de vivre. I love my family. I love my friends. I love my wife. I love my life. Even on Mondays.


Here's a fun little tidbit: I've been understanding more and more in recent years that life is whatever you want it to be. Misery, joy, mischievous, lazy or contemplative. It's your call. So in planning the wedding, my better half suggested we incorporate some of our talented friends. Here's proof in concept - in the middle of our reception we had a private concert by our favorite local rappers, the much-ballyhooed Mnemosyne:

I love this shot. In the middle of an elegant, 1940s-esque old-school Hollywood feeling Beach Club, we have Bride, Groom and Indie-Rappers. The juxtaposition kills me.


To further cast my affection around, I want to thank you for still reading this. To know that there are people in the world that would spend their time reading this is more than any writer could ask for. I know you're still there, and it means everything to me.


So here's the deal - I'm gonna keep doing this. I love it. It reminds me of how amazing the world is, and if it does the same for anyone else, all the better. Tomorrow I'm going to touch briefly on what I learned by going to a tropical island for a fortnight. It'll be good, I promise. After that, I get back to sharing amazing things that you simply must know about! So stick around, cats. Big things lie in store. More themed weeks. Grander concepts. More interviews. Let's explore this world a bit together, shall we?

Gone Fusion

Well hello, there!

I've got good news and bad news. No mincing around, I'm gonna just lay it out there.

The bad news - starting today, there's going to be about a two week hiatus on this site. I've considered bringing in a guest writer to fill in while I'm away, but so far nothing has fit quite right. I truly appreciate everyone who comes here and reads what goes on, but just know it's a temporary absence.

The reason?

That's the good news.

I'm getting married today!

I know what you're thinking - how can you be writing when thats happening? Thing is, I have a few minutes before I suit up and am typing this on my phone.  She's the love of my life and truly my better half. I couldn't be happier to marry her. But we are going on a honeymoon and I won't be able to post until I come home.

So please check in while I'm out and read old stuff you might have missed. Who knows, maybe I'll be able to sneak something on here. But when i come back I'll get back to business as usual.

See you soon, as a married man!

Sun Shine

Evening!


It's been a nice Sunday here, the kind where, if the sun shines bright enough, you just put your windows down and drive. An album I still reach for on occasion during these cruises is solid but not widely popular one by the So-Cal rock band Lit. While everyone always knows the big single off the album, 'My Own Worst Enemy', there are actually some really good songs that fill out the album.


I don't know exactly what it is about this album - on the surface there's nothing too remarkable about A Place In The Sun. It was a CD someone burned for me in early high school and I didn't listen to it a ton right away. On a drive up to a friend's cabin I threw it on, knowing the girls in the car liked the single and I liked a couple other tracks as well. About halfway through using the album as background music someone remarked "This is pretty good CD" out of the blue. While that doesn't sound like much of an endorsement, in context it rang true - while plenty of other bands in those weird pre-iTunes days loaded their albums with filler, there were some great songs hidden in this seemingly random CD.

The opening track, obtusely titled 'Four', is a stomping number that has a chorus that begs to be sung along to. 'My Own Worst Enemy', if you've never heard it, is a ridiculously catchy single with a memorable guitar riff and more sing along anthem hooks. 'Miserable', another single (with a not-bad video featuring a giant Pamela Anderson eating the band whole) is kind of dour but still has a great refrain that screams late 90s guitar rock. 'No Big Thing' is a driving, hurtling number that is as poppy as it is rushed. 'Ziplock' was another modestly popular single on the album that is all sunny riffs and quiet-loud-quiet dynamics, a decent song but not totally that unique. 'Lovely Day' is a fantastic song that really stands out - I don't know why their label didn't choose this song over 'Ziplock'. It's got a really strong guitar riff and an insanely poppy hook for a chorus. The harmonies and guitars are total So-Cal riff rock in the best, sun-shiney way possible. 'Quicksand' is another great song that sounds better than a lot of the generic stuff on hard rock radio stations, relying on melody and hooks rather than dour wailing and bland riffs. I still love, years later, the absurdly low slung guitar parts to 'The Best Is Yet To Come Undone'.

This album is a prime example of why I write this stuff every day - it's a stealth wonder, a hidden gem that no one seems to really know or remember. I wish more people did - it's a really solid album with some crazy good songs that are just as infectious now as they were ten+ years ago. There's an earnest, postive nature to these songs despite the alt-rock exterior that I find so endearing. A Place In The Sun is one hell of a summer album - pick it up for some good driving music.

Youth On Film

Evening!


It's raining right now, on a muggy Friday night. I love it.


I just got back from a showing of Super 8, the new flick courtesy of J.J. Abrams and Steven Spielberg. Long story short - I loved it. I'm not gonna get all gushy here; the movie was not without its flaws. That being said, I did really have a fun time watching it and would highly recommend it if you want a reason to head to the movies.

As is typical for Abrams, the project was shrouded in secrecy from day one and had a de riguer viral marketing deal to it that encouraged nerds like myself to get all obsessive and hunt down clues to get teases and glimpses of the movie. I have made it painfully clear here that time is one precious commodity of which I have little, so I wasn't about to start diving down rabbit holes to uncover tidbits about a film I would end up seeing later. In fact, the last time I saw a movie in the theater was back in late November of 2010 - the excellent and subdued Monsters, and that was mostly due to my curiosity and the fact that it was at a theater less than two blocks from my apartment.


Anyway.


If you've heard this movie summed up as a mashup of The Goonies, ET and Cloverfield...you're pretty much right on the money. That sounds like damningly faint praise but I promise it really does play out quite well. While the writing and script are fairly rote and your basic meat and potatoes Spielbergian "kids on an adventure while dealing with parental abandonment" genre, the kids chosen for the roles were simply great. A bunch of first timers and unknowns, these kids were a real breath of fresh air compared to some of the jaded and disillusioned Hollywood kids we've all become sadly accustomed to and accepting of. They are surprisingly talented and sweet and genuine, making the impossible seem at least a bit plausible, even as I approach 30.

The Abrams Lens Flare? Full effect, but less so than Star Trek.




The...secret...thing? Good, solid (both in the literal and figurative sense). I can't stand when a special effect/construct feels weightless and impotent (see Hulk and anything Twilight related). Really, the effects in the movie were tops - I found myself wondering how they could put kids in such danger when filming, only then to remember that 95% of the explosions never existed at all. The...secret...thing...was very much in Abrams' wheelhouse, if you've seen other...things...he's had a hand in. My companion for the evening observed that while there were a few interesting touches to...it...we've kinda run th gamut on what's original and novel for....things.

It's fun. It's not heavy handed. I've seen Spielberg step out of his comfort zone with Minority Report and A.I., both movies I enjoy dispute their flaws. I love most of everything Abrams has done, and this is no exception. I say if you want to hit the movies, skip everything else and see Super 8. It's a breath of refreshing sincerity and interesting storytelling in our jaded, irony-driven world. Do yourself a favor and check it out while it's on the big screen.

Escape Artist

Why do I do the things I do?

That question is, in a way, at the heart of this site.

I don't necessarily mean in the grand, existential "Why are we here?" frame of mind, but rather the more basic, if-q-then-p logic of my choices and behavior. No doubt there are trends that are apparent to others in my writing that evade my detection. I'm sure there are not only trains of thought but word choice as well. Words like 'haunting' 'fantastic' and 'surreal' often appear in my reviews of forgotten or under appreciated music, but to a certain degree that can be traced to the material as well as my vocabulary and predilection. But tracing that thought further back - why am I listening to so much music that can be described in those terms? It certainly betrays a fondness for music of a certain vein. The jumping off point for this article was similarly centered.

I was waiting for the bus the other morning and listening to Apex Twin when I realized just how often I find myself listening to music that many would find unpleasant or disquieting. To clarify, this was not the thumping-and-pounding, acerbic Aphex Twin of 'Come To Daddy' or 'Windowlicker' but the contemplative and cerebral work of his compilation Selected Ambient Works II. It's a lovely album, even if it is fifteen years old at this point. It's my understanding that Richard D. James, the man behind the madness, was essentially attempting to recreate soundscapes he heard within his lucid dreams, an idea that both fascinates and frightens me just a bit. I think it may be that same ethereal and intangible nature of our dreams that I'm chasing after when I spend my life with headphones on as I go about my business. Waiting for the bus, shopping for groceries, walking anywhere, really. There seems to be a fairly clean demarcation between what I would listen to in a car compared to what I listen to when I'm on foot. In cars, it's all hip hop and alternative from the 90s. On foot, it's ambient and surreal.

 Maybe it's a form of escapism. I've always been fascinated with my own dreams and the idea of experiencing lucid dreams. However, lucidity in dreams has never been something I've been able to experience. Take, for example, my piece on the Inception App for IOS devices - the way the code incorporates surrounding noise and reinterprets it along with a contextual soundtrack is, in a way, the closest I've come to that state of waking dreaming. In my early post about dark winter mornings and Akira Yamaoka's music I hint at this idea as well - that by adding that soundtrack to a time right after I wake up, it's almost as though I never left the sleep state. In the act of pumping ambient noise to my brain I'm blocking out the outside world, in what is a (perhaps not so) unconscious move to return to the subconscious.

 This is not to say that I find my life to be unpleasant or that I wish to escape from it, but I think more so that it's a move to block out some of the jarring sounds with more pleasant, dissociative white noise. One of my pet peeves is when people on the bus (or anywhere in public, to be frank) talks loudly on their phone. I'm willing to wager upwards of 90% of the passengers on my commute have phones, yet only a select few choose to conduct conversations on what is otherwise a quiet bus. While the reasons it bothers me are numerous, my reactions are limited. The best one I've found is to play music like SAW2 or the Inception App, which effectively filters out or negates the sound of half of a conversation I wish I wouldn't hear. Traffic and car horns, people yelling, construction sites - it all is a bit less disturbing when filtered through some heady music.

 This is why, I think, I have a predilection for ethereal and dreamy music that tends to skew my sense of reality. It's not some psychopathy or misanthropic nature, but simply a desire for a quieter, more serene experience as I navigate city life. Realizing this, I still choose to live in Minneapolis instead of, say, International Falls. Though, to be fair, if I had a decent wireless signal up there I might be tempted. Give it a shot - follow some of the links and see if it doesn't help undo some of the audio kinks of life.