Hey, kids.
Heat wave.
I'm moving slow.
It's the beginning of the week and not only is it the Worst Day of the Week, it's also bad enough there's a heat advisory and I'm in the thick of planning the final stages of a wedding. So forgive me if the brain pan isn't functioning at full capacity. Or something. Anyway. You know how I write about how hard and crappy of a time I had discovering new and interesting music in my formative years? Sometimes you get a freebie. Literally.
Again, bemoaning the lack of hi-speed WiFi as a youth, I bought a ton of music mags. Dumb thing was I had the mental and economic wherewithal to spend the money and mental energy into reading about fresh new artists, but then I would freeze up in the CD stores, petrified of spending my limited cash on a poor choice. Preemptive buyer's remorse, I guess. Hell, for a long time I didn't get an Iphone because people I'd never met on the internet were calling it a dumb choice - what if they judged me? See how deep the neurosis goes? It feels a lot better when you just say "Screw it! This is what I like and I wanna buy it! No apologies!" I'm super glad to have hopped on board the Apple bandwagon, if you couldn't tell - I feel, more and more everyday, that my life is like Star Trek as a result. But I digress.
So I'd buy these music rags in the hopes of a good discovery. One of them (I forget which) occasionally had a sampler with it. Not everything on it would be good. In fact, quite a bit sucked. BUT! This one particular sampler not only introduced me to Monster Magnet's awesome 'Space Lord' but also introduced me to a phenomenal song that no one else seems to have heard. It was by a little British band called Drugstore. The tune, 'El President', was a duet with none other than hipster deity Thom Yorke. I loved it, lost the CD for a couple years, then found it on a file sharing program years later. The song sublime, all swooping and lurching acoustic guitars. Vocalist Isabel Monteiro's singing is light and sweet, a sound that fits well alongside Yorke's buttery, perpetually mournful voice. Give a listen here and see what I'm talking about - it builds well and isn't too laid back for an acoustic track.
I'll see if I can give more tomorrow, gang - as the heat wave continues and the wedding looms, I fear my circuitry may just up and quit on me. I'll fight it, though - there's still a couple tricks of my sleeve to maintain momentum. Stay tuned!
Oh, man.
It was pretty today, folks. Really pretty.
The kind of beautiful day where I said "Screw it!" and walked to the grocery store with a shoulder bag full of cold packs just to have an excuse to be out in the sun rather than in my condo or car. The sun was, in short, refreshing and there was just a bit of a breeze. Good lord, do I love June. On the walk back I put on a mix of summer tunes I recently downloaded, to make sure I was keeping the pace. Things spoil, after all. One of the songs in the mix really grabbed my attention, I should say. If it's not already huge, it sure will be, by all means.
That song?
'Houdini' by Foster The People.
I think there's about 30 different things going on in this single, pretty much simultaneously. Amazingly, all of these disparate elements hold together incredibly well. Maybe it's a testament to my faith in our cultural mash-ups I wrote on yesterday. Anyway, from the opening drumbeat, this song is fantastic. The verses are full of keyboard chord changes that move and shift like sand in the desert, evoking older tunes the likes of which were popular in the 80s. Somehow the pre-chorus becomes a jarring, 90s-esque bit of pop/r&B, then the whole thing switches gears once again as it hits the actual chorus, which is full of infectiously dance-able synthesizers and twisting beeps and buzzes. It's one big mess of a single that works against all odds. I don't know how all the different parts work together but I am totally sold on this insanely catchy song.
The song comes courtesy of Foster The People's album Torches, which is also home to other great stuff like the single 'Pumped Up Kicks'. They've clearly found a niche with their neuvo-throwback sound. Give 'em a spin before summer comes into full effect and you're sick of this stuff. Have fun with it, eh?
Week ends.
It's an heartbreakingly gorgeous day here in MPLS for once. It seems like the entire spring has been a cold, rainy affair but as soon as June rolled over we've had warmer weather. It's almost as if May was the month for the weather to get the water out of its system before it got hot. Anyway, it's too nice to sit inside writing about music, so I'll just tell you about something I love and get on my way.
If you're like me, you probably love folkster extraordinaire Sufjan Stevens. Fantastic music that bobs and weaves, floating in and out of your ears. In particular, the album Come On, Feel The Illinoise. Great, unusual music that is not quite unlike Andrew Bird. As wonderful as it is, I do, in fact, prefer a secret remix of the album. Done by Donald Glover under his DJ alter ego mcdj, the album Ill-inoise! serves as a complete reworking of the Sufjan Stevens masterpiece. The resulting remixes are absolutely gorgeous. It's as if Glover took these beautiful but grounded balloons and just undid the tethers that grounded them. All of the tracks have a lightness to them, partly from the raised pitch of the original samples, but also stemming from the fact that there are some deftly crafted drum loops and atmospheric touches. Glover's sense of space and style show an intrinsic love of his craft and a deep understanding of the source material.
I find it quite fascinating that our culture has taken such flight with the idea of reworking pre-existing works of art - I struggle to think of other generations where there has been such a movement that is so meta-contextual and almost self referential. I've written about the circular nature of our mashup culture; I've also heard grumblings from older generations about the shallow nature to the culture as a result. Some would say it certainly seems a mixed blessing at best. I don't think that's the case - after all, listen to how gorgeous this album turned out when mixed by a second artist. What are the odds that he would have created a similar work in his own right if the source material hadn't existed? That's your homework assignment - download this album and make notes. Test is Monday.
I'll leave it at that and let the remixes speak for themselves. Go find mcdj and his music here - it's serene music for a barbecue or pool party scene like today. I'll see you tomorrow.
Holy Hannah, cats.
Friday, at last.
So I'm back to writing about some post-grunge guitar driven alternateen-anthems once again. I wrote, a while back, about a concert experience that turned me on to one of my favorite bands, The Get Up Kids. I mentioned, in passing, seeing the band Ozma as an opener. You know what? I still dig Ozma in their own weird way, even after all these years.
One could get the sense that Ozma, hailing from Pasadena, frequently got labeled some variation on the derisive 'Weezer Lite', a term I heard hurled at them during that show. I dug their sound, though. Personally I found it to be similar enough but distinctive and unique in their own right, enough that I half heartedly sought out their music after the show. Unfortunately their performance was eclipsed in my eyes by that of The Get Up Kids, and I soon forgot about the little emo band that could. About a year later, killing time in study hall, a friend of mine fired up a certain f s program that shall remain nameless. Agog that she had installed it on a school computer (it was a different time, then) I asked to see what she on on the horrendously under powered pc. Among the tracks was Ozma's awesome introductory track with which they had opened their show - 'Domino Effect'.
"Oh my god Ozma!" I shouted.
She cocked her head, conjuring. "Oh yeah, we were at that show together, huh?" We weren't super close, if you couldn't tell...
I loved the song and listened to it on that pc in the computer lab whenever I had class in there. But then time passed, she graduatued and the teacher cleaned out the hard drive. I forgot all about Ozma and that song. I was about to go off to college myself when I was poking around a Best Buy, looking for something I can't recall, when I saw that album by Ozma, Rock and Roll Part Three. I immediately switched gears and went gung ho for Ozma, throwing it into my car's CD player on the way home. The night of the concert came rushing back to me, hearing those songs. The excellent opener, the eversoslightly Western tinged 'The Ups and Downs', the crushing and epic 'Battlescars', a song whose power and heft still drive me crazy today. As much as I love those tunes, though, I still can't get over the bizarre and hopelessly pleading love letter to the genius pixie, 'Natalie Portman' - it's a strangely written track that rocks, never the less. A churning, rolling affair of power chords, octave-riffs and morose lyrics, singer Ryan Slegr wails the final lines of the song in resignation and frustration, belting "There's nothing! There's nothing! There's nothing I can do!" It comes across as an amazing mix of heartbreakingly sad and a touch absurd. Basically, I love it.
The band split in the last decade, only to get back together in the last few years. To be honest I've fallen out of step with Ozma, not really following their developments, but I still love Rock and Roll Part Three. There are some fantastic songs on there that not only feel great but they bring me back so vividly to that unbelievable great show. Give it a listen.
Hidy ho, friends.
I am totally tapped.
Turns out helping your better half plan the wedding in addition to being a normal, productive member of society is a tiring thing. Who knew? Movie Week is officially over - it was fun while it lasted but I oughta get back to my meat and potatoes, my bread and butter, my sturm and drang. So excuses, excuses - I'll give another truncated post and tell you just a bit about how I cam to love Dinosaur Jr.
I missed the boat on J Mascis, the sole musician responsible for 95% of what Dinosaur Jr. is and does. I was just too young to have been exposed to it in their heyday. As I've written before, my older brother was an excellent repository for guitar-driven rock music that might have come just ohsoslightly before my time. Not only did he (consciously or unconsciously) guide my musical development but his friends did as well. One such friend was in the habit of selling me his old CDs for cheap, like dollar-a-pop cheap, which was a god-send to a Middle West teenager with no internet to speak of. So once in a blue moon, when the fates would align and I could tag along to their place, the older brother would get pre-occupied and I could get a crash course in the friend's musical world. It was revelatory, to say the least.
One of the many things I got turned on to during one of these crash courses was Dinosaur Jr. He was in the midst of telling me how much he loved Wesley Willis when he tossed a CD onto the pile I had established on the floor, saying "Oh, Dinosaur Jr.'s great, you gotta hear that - it's basically one guy playing all the instruments over himself," and that was it. No more preamble, just that. So I took it, along with the stack of other discs he was done with, back to my place and devoured them. It was, in hindsight, some good songwriting draped in distortion and insane guitar solos, but there was something about it so new (despite the fact it was more than five years old) that I struggled to retain the sound.
The CD was the EP Whatever's Cool With Me, which was really just the single and a handful of strong b-sides and a couple of live tunes. Up until that point in my life I hadn't really branched out and found things that weren't getting exposure on MTV or the radio, so something like Dinosaur Jr. was an important step into a new world for me. It was the kind of thing where you listen to it and love it, then when you try to recall it later your mind can't quite recreate the sound because it isn't used to it. Does that make sense? I hope it does, because its a fun sensation and it rarely happens anymore.
The EP is still one of my sekrit favorite things, with this unbelievable sense of melody hidden under the grungey trappings of the era. The title track is great, 'Sideways' is a lovely little pop tune. 'Not You Again' still rocks, with its upbeat, cheery distortion and crazy solos. 'The Little Baby' was intense for me, at the time, the first I'd heard proto-screamo.
If you've never heard anything by Dinosaur Jr., this might not be the best place to start. It was, for me, an interesting jumping off point, as it was between albums and eras for the band and I had my curiosity piqued right as they went on hiatus. Always behind the curve, eh? Regardless, give the band a listen, they've got some great songs.
Ladies and gentlemen, here we have it!
The sad yet poignant end to Movie Week.
I've just arrived home from the premier screening of the locally made, insanely funny Wasted On The Young and I have to say - it is funnier than I could have ever hoped. I mean there were times I felt I should stifle myself, lest I ruin someone else's good time. I howled out loud, along with the rest of the sold out theater. Hell, the 9 pm show was sold out, too. I would love nothing more than to give a thorough recapping of the lovable indie film fresh from Paperback Productions, but do to my intimate involvement with the movie, objectivity is almost non-existent. That being said, I absolutely adored the scenes I wasn't in, relishing the performances of my friends and neighbors. It was also an amazing curiosity to see a motion picture shot entirely on VHS - the aesthetic was both unique and enjoyable. If you're interested, head over to the site and buy it for a single dollar. That's less than a sandwich! I won't say anymore at this point, to avoid accusations of shilling. What I will do, instead, is compile every post thus far on the subject of movies. See, I mostly just write about them, not act in them. So here goes:
Brick - a phenomenal, understated, modern day noir flick set in a CA high-school, starring the amazing Joseph Levitt.
Monsters - a quiet, evocative film on a shoestring budget about societal implications of aliens in Mexico. Awesome.
Cloverfield - the flipside to Monsters, wherein a Cthulian-esque monstrosity attacks NY. Very post-9/11.
Fan Edits - a look at the fascinating world of fan edits and how they change our perceptions.
Spirited Away - one of my favorite movies, ever. A beautiful, heartfelt tale of growing up. And ghosts!
The Matrix Trilogy - the groundbreaking series that looks even more impressive in hi-definition. A must see.
Moon - a moving but lonely and ultimately heartbreakingly human science fiction movie. Duncan Jones is a genius.
Mystery Team - the Derrick Comedy debut feature, an absurd take on Encyclopedia Brown, starring Donald Glover.
The Ride - the shorth film that accompanied 30 Seconds To Mars' single 'Kings & Queens. Heavy and gorgeous.
Inception - a look at how music shapes the experience of this phenomenal thriller. Heady, intelligent stuff.
MST3K - the absolute best of the worst. Manos, Hobgoblins, This Planet Earth. You name it. Yikes.
Akira - an examination of how scene and setting impacted my perspective of the Japanese breakout hit.
Terminator - some of the smartest science fiction movies ever, even if the continuity and quality tapers off.
Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs - surprisingly smart and funny, a great under rated and recent movie.
Oldboy - harrowing stuff, but some of the most original film-making I'd seen in years. Watch it with the kids! (Don't)
Wasted On The Young - Minneapolis-made movie makes moves. I'm so proud of everyone involved.
Pleasantville - see Tobey Maguire and Reese Witherspoon before they were stars. It's a charming 90s movie.
Silent Hill - an uneven, but enjoyable horror flick I love more for the soundtrack than anything.
Chasing Amy - Kevin Smith's best work, an honest and moving look at relationships, with plenty of dick jokes, to boot.
There we are, kids. Quite a few, so feel free to peruse and see what you find. I plan on doing more on movies later, but I ought to get back to what I do best. In the future though, I'd like to branch out more, do more themes. Maybe books? Games? Lord knows the web is full of guys like myself writing about video games. Something more obscure....perhaps comedy? Who knows. Hey, I'm open to suggestions - drop a line and let me know what you think!
Back at it, huh?
Movie Week continues, for just two more days. In the spirit of this site, I thought I'd write today's piece on a movie that I loved long ago which doesn't seem to get the same respect it once did. That movie? Chasing Amy, written and directed by Kevin Smith. Yes, that Kevin Smith.
While I have written more than a few pieces on this site about being behind the pop-culture curve or not picking up on the zeitgeist, this movie is one instance in which I was fairly in the know, at least from where I was sitting. Like I've previously explained, growing up in the less densely populated parts of the Middle West, you have to make your own fun and find your own niche. This was especially hard before the ubiquity of the interwebs and access to anything faster than dial up. However, being a teenaged male in America, I was well aware of the indie hit Clerks and the mangled-but-eventual cult success Mallrats and the inherent appeal to my sensibilities. Long winded diatribes about the political ramifications of Star Wars. Comic book references galore. Believable everyman characters. Smith may receive some flack for diminishing returns these days but I still love his canon, if solely for the Askewniverse. So when I heard about his followup to Mallrats, the low budget and character driven Chasing Amy, I was curious. I also had heard about the subject of the film's plot, namely that of a straight man pining after his lesbian friend. I never had a chance to see the movie in any of the major chains around me when it was first released, but I did seek it out upon its release to VHS soon after. Yes, VHS. I do remember what that was like.
No bones about it, I still dig this film, a decade on. There's something so genuine and heartfelt about it. Say what you will about the nature of sexuality and predilections for human behavior, I can't speak from a sociologist or psychologist's perspective. As a straight male in my late 20s I can hardly speak of the broader world of human sexuality. It feels to me, though, that this was Smith's first foray into cinematic maturity and making a movie that, while still riddled with the low-hanging fruit of lowbrow humor, it possesses a humanity that revealed his charm as a writer and director. Clerks had been a DIY, almost guerrilla-style, self funded project. Mallrats had given him a larger budget and Hollywood production values, only to see him (slightly) misfire under the pressure, but that film's (initially) poor reception could almost be chalked up to the public and the industry's misunderstanding his wheelhouse. We didn't know then what we know now about his strengths and weaknesses. I, for one, would find it fascinating for him to make Mallrats as present day Kevin Smith and see what the results would be. More crudity, but maybe more heart, as well. Not to say the version we have doesn't have it, but I haven't seen the recut and expanded version of the movie that he released in recent times. But that's an article for another day.
I'm rambling.
The point is, I found (and still find) Chasing Amy to be a film that perfectly encapsulated what Smith's style is all about. He may certainly disagree, especially considering how much time has passed since he made it, but I think it's a very enjoyable mix of levity and sincere emotional events. The script is Smith doing what he does best - riffing on pop culture while giving characters some excellent dialogue to build scenes on. That he has some terrific actors enlisted does no harm, as I've always loved watching Jason Lee and it's funny to see Ben Affleck right before he exploded into stardom. They're fun to watch together on screen, and it shows how actors having chemistry is crucial to making a movie work. The majority of the cast were Smith's friends, including ex-girlfriend Joey Lauren Adams, who does a fantastic job bringing her character to life. Smith has shared some interesting anecdotes in regard to how the studio wanted to recast the film in order to provide a higher budget. I'm glad he stuck to his guns - what would this movie have gained from a quadrupled budget if it had starred David Schwimmer? Sorry Ross. The chemistry among the cast is what sells the film, really. Well, that and the fact that basically one guy being responsible for almost everything you see on screen.
Having listened to his commentaries and podcasts, one quickly picks up on the fact that Smith simultaneously makes no apologies for his work and is also the first to jump on the critical dogpile. I get that he's not Martin Scorsese or Woody Allen, but I wish he would tone down the self deprecation. Hearing him bag on his own work only brings the flaws to light, most of which I wouldn't really be aware of if he wasn't pointing them out. I specifically recall him pointing out a shot in Mallrats that is very deep and then joking about his lack of depth in his canon. As a layperson who knows little about the process of film making and camera placement I never would have noticed it. Now I am finding myself remembering that every time I see a deep shot. In regard to Chasing Amy, though, he has had little (that I've heard) critical to say. I think he holds this film closer to his heart, due to its personal relevance to his own experiences and relationships. It's easily held by many critics as his best work, even today, and it's plain to see why.
If you've never seen Chasing Amy in the 10+ years its been out, you're way over due. It would be a real shame if you only knew him as the caricature he sometimes plays up. Sure he can be crass or foul, but along with that you get a film maker who creates real characters and witty, insightful dialogue. Do yourself a favor and rewatch it, even, just to see what made him a name in the first place. It's good, you'll like it.
Man, these things keep getting later and later.
Hope your weekend was as good as mine, a mix of extreme productivity and quantifiable unwinding. Movie Week continues, but not for long. Tonight, a short look back at an under rated but curious example of the game-to-screen phenomenon.
I've written a fair deal about my love for Silent Hill, particularly the second installment of the game series. The first post I ever wrote was on how much I love the work of the series' composer, Akira Yamaoka. Imagine, then, my delight when I heard several years ago that there were plans to adapt the games into a film. I was, of course, skeptical about the process, as anyone who has seen video game-based movies like Super Mario Brothers, Double Dragon, Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat can attest, the results are never strong. My fears were dissuaded by the professed admiration of Christopher Gans, a French director who swore up and down that the movie was a labor of love and a dream project of his. So, expectations hovering in the middle, I went to see the big screen adaption of Silent Hill when it was released in theaters.
It was...okay.
I really wanted to love the movie. There were parts of it that absolutely nailed the tone and mood of the surreal-yet-disturbing game series. Other elements were less cohesive or just not that strong. It was, in short, an uneven affair that shone brightly at times but faltered when it came to sticking the ending. Part of the problem, obviously, comes in the translation from game to cinema - games are solitary, intensely personal experiences, whereas a major motion picture is seen in a theater full of people without your hands guiding the experience. Where I had played these games alone in the dark, tensely feeling my way through the dread and abandoned corridors, here was a movie played in a theater in which seemingly disparate elements were forced into an unconfused whole.
There are definitely parts of the film that work, in particular the first half of the movie. In it, we see a great deal of imagery and themes central to the games, without just copying them wholesale. The pervasive fog, the flickering radios, the uncanny movement of things in the mist - some of it plays out as ideally as a film version of Silent Hill could do. In particular, the music and score for these establishing scenes are fantastic, basically amounting to a pseudo-greatest hits of the game's music. Yamaoka's influence on the series is felt strongly here and it works to great effect. The script is not a stand-out element, but the cast does a solid job in handling insane material, making the impossible somewhat believable. It's only as the movie progresses that we lose sight of where we started. While the games excelled at atmosphere and ambient dread there was also a fair degree (okay a hell of a lot of) graphic violence and disturbing images. The film, unfortunately, forgets or confuses the emphasis, switching out effective scene-settings for gore and viscera. By the end of the movie we've strayed straight into a torture film, watching characters suffer seemingly out of obligation rather than plot necessity.
Silent Hill is far from a perfect movie, but it still holds its own, if just for that opening 35 or forty minutes. If I ever wanted to explain the series to someone and have them experience it without them playing it I would have them watch the begging of this movie. Just not the last leg - too brutal, even for me at times. Still, glad to have as strong an adaptation as this. We'll see what happens with the sequel, due next year. As long as they use Akira Yamaoka's music, I'm in.
Kids!
The kids these days, what with their rocknroll music and their societal progressions!
I was out to dinner tonight with my better half and my younger brother, talking about movies in honor of Movie Week, and while we established several good ideas for later posts, we struggled to find something appropriate for tonight. Then my younger brother made a joke about black and white TVs and it hit us all at once.
Pleasantville!
You guys remember Pleasantville? You totally should, it actually holds up as a pretty cool movie, especially considering the star power it now possesses, retroactively. Released in 1998, the movie starred Tobey Maguire and Reese Witherspoon as a couple of jaded, disaffected kids from the millennial era (picture Roy from the Simpsons) who end up trapped in the fictional world of the TV series Pleasantville. All seems well until some incidental changes are made to the established social norms. Suddenly up is down, wrong is right and what was black and white is now Technicolor.
What was kind of a gimmicky premise turns out to be a cool, dynamic choice for film making, even today. The movie's stark color palette and distinctive tone are really fascinating presentations for what amounts to be a fairly rote morality play about civil rights and the progression of society.
While not a groundbreaking film in any major sense of the word, Pleasantville still stands as an intersting, if overlooked, film from right around the millennium. If you're looking for something to pop in to help unwind over the long weekend, give this movie a shot, if for no other reason than to see some major players of the modern Hollywood scene in their younger days. I'll see you tomorrow for another Movie Week post.
Word.
Saturday.
Memorial Day Weekend.
Forgive the brevity of the post, there's been life and wedding planning intervening in my writing schedule. That's not an excuse of any kind, just insight into my world.
You might know that last week I spent the better part of 1000 words extolling the virtues of Galaxy Farm and the music they make. Additionally I made it perfectly clear that I have a relative in the band, which should not (but probably does) affect my objectivity. Today, for Movie Week, I thought "The hell with objectivity" and decided to spread the good word about something I took part in two summers ago. That something?
Wasted On The Young.
Set in the Twin Cities, the movie was written and produced by some of my closest friends, including (but not limited to): Evan Drolet Cook, Riley Lang and Joseph Voelbel. Starring lots of local fresh faces and veterans of the industry, the movie is essentially about a group of young 20-somethings over the course of a summer and the effect that one of the friends learning to drive has on the entire group. It also features a small role played by me, in my limited capacity as an actor. Having seen snippets of the film, I can tell you that I expect great things from it, as it proves to be damn funny and even, dare I say, touching at times. Yes, I do dare say it. But it's the good kind of touching, not the bad kind your parents warned you about.
Here's the best part - not only can you see the trailer for Wasted On The Young here, you can buy some of the few remaining tickets to the premier at Trylon Microcinema June 1st and 2nd here. Unfortunately both 7pm shows are completely sold out, but there are a few left for the 9pm showings. Even better, if you can't make it to one of the theatrical showings, the movie will be available on the website for downloading DIRECTLY TO YOUR COMPUTER FOR HOME-VIEWING for a mere 99 cents! How bananas is that? I think that's a hell of a deal for a locally made movie.
Do yourself a favor and get on board the Wasted On The Young bandwagon before buzz catches on and you're the last to see it. I guarantee you'll find something to laugh at, even if it's something so simple as a movie being shot entirely on VHS. You heard me right.
See it. Live it. Love it.
BYOB.