Friday, May 27, 2005
In Appreciation of the Ornately Sissified
Like most self-absorbed college dullards inordinately impressed with their own meager intelligence, I was a big fan of Belle & Sebastian's If You're Feeling Sinister back in 1997. It truly was a great record, one of the top fifty or 100 or so of the decade, for sure. I would listen to my roommate's copies of the various singles and eps they released in '97 and '98, which were all pretty much great. I began to lose interest after '98's The Boy With the Arab Strap, when Stuart Murdoch started letting his bandmate's middling scraps waste a few slots per album. The most recent B&S release I've owned has been 1999's excellent This Is Just a Modern Rock Song ep, which I got gratis from my old pals at Music Boulevard. But so I definitely used to be a fan, and I was familiar with most of their output during the years of my most fervent interest. The ebb was swift, though, and by the end of '99 I couldn't care less about the prospect of new Belle & Sebastian music. Their pitifully lackluster show at the 40 Watt in 1998 probably had much to do with that. I half-heartedly kept track with subsequent albums and singles, first through WUOG, and later through my wife, who remains a fan. For the most part, though, I stopped caring about this band six years ago.
I've never owned most of those eps from '97, as ten bucks for four songs was never worth it, and Matador's weird boxed set deal similarly seemed like a rip-off. When I read that they were releasing a two-disc set with all of their singles up to 2001, and that it would cost the same as a single album, I figured it was probably worth my twelve bucks. That's a decision I am now proud to have made. Push Barman to Open Old Wounds is a fantastic collection, despite the putrid name. The first disc, containing those three eps from 1997, rivals Sinister as their most essential release. "The State I Am In", "You Made Me Forget My Dreams", and "A Century of Fakers" are easily among their best songs. The second disc starts off strongly with the Modern Rock Song ep, followed by the three three-song singles released in 2000 and 2001. The quality level dips a bit here, but there's still some slivers of sturdy platinum, most notably "Take Your Carriage Clock and Shove It" and "Marx and Engels". If anything, this set is irrefutable evidence that the band was either lackadaisical in their album sequencing, or else a bad judge of their own music's merit. Or maybe they simply prefer eps to full-lengths. Either way, most of Push Barman outclasses half of the songs that made it on to Arab Strap, and is superior to almost all of 2000's anemic Fold Your Hands Child You Walk Like a Peasant.
Like most self-absorbed college dullards inordinately impressed with their own meager intelligence, I was a big fan of Belle & Sebastian's If You're Feeling Sinister back in 1997. It truly was a great record, one of the top fifty or 100 or so of the decade, for sure. I would listen to my roommate's copies of the various singles and eps they released in '97 and '98, which were all pretty much great. I began to lose interest after '98's The Boy With the Arab Strap, when Stuart Murdoch started letting his bandmate's middling scraps waste a few slots per album. The most recent B&S release I've owned has been 1999's excellent This Is Just a Modern Rock Song ep, which I got gratis from my old pals at Music Boulevard. But so I definitely used to be a fan, and I was familiar with most of their output during the years of my most fervent interest. The ebb was swift, though, and by the end of '99 I couldn't care less about the prospect of new Belle & Sebastian music. Their pitifully lackluster show at the 40 Watt in 1998 probably had much to do with that. I half-heartedly kept track with subsequent albums and singles, first through WUOG, and later through my wife, who remains a fan. For the most part, though, I stopped caring about this band six years ago.
I've never owned most of those eps from '97, as ten bucks for four songs was never worth it, and Matador's weird boxed set deal similarly seemed like a rip-off. When I read that they were releasing a two-disc set with all of their singles up to 2001, and that it would cost the same as a single album, I figured it was probably worth my twelve bucks. That's a decision I am now proud to have made. Push Barman to Open Old Wounds is a fantastic collection, despite the putrid name. The first disc, containing those three eps from 1997, rivals Sinister as their most essential release. "The State I Am In", "You Made Me Forget My Dreams", and "A Century of Fakers" are easily among their best songs. The second disc starts off strongly with the Modern Rock Song ep, followed by the three three-song singles released in 2000 and 2001. The quality level dips a bit here, but there's still some slivers of sturdy platinum, most notably "Take Your Carriage Clock and Shove It" and "Marx and Engels". If anything, this set is irrefutable evidence that the band was either lackadaisical in their album sequencing, or else a bad judge of their own music's merit. Or maybe they simply prefer eps to full-lengths. Either way, most of Push Barman outclasses half of the songs that made it on to Arab Strap, and is superior to almost all of 2000's anemic Fold Your Hands Child You Walk Like a Peasant.
playlist from yestyday's radio show
The Mez Eclipse Goodtime Radio Hoe-down and Buffalo Pie Bingo Extravaganza is really starting to find its way. Yesterday was some magic, coursing through me, through the radio, and hopefully through you. That song by Blurt, in particular, was particularly fine. Particulate.
The Mez Eclipse Goodtime Radio Hoe-down and Buffalo Pie Bingo Extravaganza is really starting to find its way. Yesterday was some magic, coursing through me, through the radio, and hopefully through you. That song by Blurt, in particular, was particularly fine. Particulate.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Musically Artistic Friends in AWESOMENESS!
My wife got me a subscription to Time Magazine a few weeks ago. I think they're actually paying us to take the damn thing. Maybe not, but it was a ridiculous deal, something like fifteen bucks for a year of Time and In Style (or HomeLife, or Real Simple, or Vacuum Struggle, or some womany thing like that). Time ain't what it used to be, back when my dad subscribed in the '80's. These days it feels about as light as a comic book, sometimes clocking in at barely 64 pages. One could probably read it cover to cover in an hour or so, if it weren't, you know, Time, and didn't reliably put the reader to sleep within fifteen minutes. Its coverage is as insubstantial as its size, focusing more than ever on useless pop culture bric-a-brac. The five issues we've received have included cover stories on Ann Coulter, Star Wars, and the new X-Box. Not exactly important journalism, there, but I suppose it keeps the rag from getting blamed for riots caused by the unique and all-encompassing assholishness of this government's foreign policy.
The latest issue arrived yesterday, with a cover date of May 30, 2005, and a story about this year's graduating class of military officers. Again, nothing too exciting. But what true glory awaits inside, despite such inauspicious first impressions! There are not one, but TWO! excellent articles within. There's a nice profile of former WUOG dj (and occasional "Head to Head" board operator) Brian "Danger Mouse" Burton, and, even greater still, the most in-depth article I've yet to read on our new all-time favorite human Cowboy Troy. Who knew that Troy spoke six languages, or that he had a philosophy degree from UT, or that he's a few hours short of a masters in economics? Not only is he the most electrifying country music performer since the Kentucky Headhunters, he's also apparently the best educated. And he has a song declaring himself the "Last of the Brohicans"! What an unforgivably exhilirating giant of a man this Cowboy be!
My wife got me a subscription to Time Magazine a few weeks ago. I think they're actually paying us to take the damn thing. Maybe not, but it was a ridiculous deal, something like fifteen bucks for a year of Time and In Style (or HomeLife, or Real Simple, or Vacuum Struggle, or some womany thing like that). Time ain't what it used to be, back when my dad subscribed in the '80's. These days it feels about as light as a comic book, sometimes clocking in at barely 64 pages. One could probably read it cover to cover in an hour or so, if it weren't, you know, Time, and didn't reliably put the reader to sleep within fifteen minutes. Its coverage is as insubstantial as its size, focusing more than ever on useless pop culture bric-a-brac. The five issues we've received have included cover stories on Ann Coulter, Star Wars, and the new X-Box. Not exactly important journalism, there, but I suppose it keeps the rag from getting blamed for riots caused by the unique and all-encompassing assholishness of this government's foreign policy.
The latest issue arrived yesterday, with a cover date of May 30, 2005, and a story about this year's graduating class of military officers. Again, nothing too exciting. But what true glory awaits inside, despite such inauspicious first impressions! There are not one, but TWO! excellent articles within. There's a nice profile of former WUOG dj (and occasional "Head to Head" board operator) Brian "Danger Mouse" Burton, and, even greater still, the most in-depth article I've yet to read on our new all-time favorite human Cowboy Troy. Who knew that Troy spoke six languages, or that he had a philosophy degree from UT, or that he's a few hours short of a masters in economics? Not only is he the most electrifying country music performer since the Kentucky Headhunters, he's also apparently the best educated. And he has a song declaring himself the "Last of the Brohicans"! What an unforgivably exhilirating giant of a man this Cowboy be!
there goes one of the best names ever
So Thurl Ravenscroft has died. I didn't know he was still alive. I also had no idea that he was the voice of Tony the Tiger, although now that I think about it I'm surprised I couldn't tell. That guy had it all, both an amazing voice and an even more amazing name. That's all you need in this life, a voice and a name, and if you've got both, you can do anything, and go anywhere.
Is it proper to call Tony the Superman of animated cereal spokesanimals?
So Thurl Ravenscroft has died. I didn't know he was still alive. I also had no idea that he was the voice of Tony the Tiger, although now that I think about it I'm surprised I couldn't tell. That guy had it all, both an amazing voice and an even more amazing name. That's all you need in this life, a voice and a name, and if you've got both, you can do anything, and go anywhere.
Is it proper to call Tony the Superman of animated cereal spokesanimals?
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
we make a lot of shit up
Our man Ice has started up an on-line repository of our friends' unfinished (and unstarted) screenplay ideas. Ice produces more gold than supernovae could ever imagine. Coming up soon we should have our treatment for the pro-choice horror film The Unwanted and the script to Supreme Pizza, our submission to Bravo's Situation: Comedy contest.
Our man Ice has started up an on-line repository of our friends' unfinished (and unstarted) screenplay ideas. Ice produces more gold than supernovae could ever imagine. Coming up soon we should have our treatment for the pro-choice horror film The Unwanted and the script to Supreme Pizza, our submission to Bravo's Situation: Comedy contest.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Matt Clement has the most disgusting beard in professional sports.
Okay, yes, Fenway is absolutely amazing, and beautiful, and I want to make sweet love to it, and all that stupid overblown shit. My memories of Wrigley are vague (it's been almost exactly ten years, after all), but Fenway definitely outstrips it in terms of charm and delight. It's an amazing ballpark, and I am completely thrilled that I got to be there yesterday. But god-damn, could it have been a more frustrating game? The Sox had Smoltz on the ropes every single inning, and easily could have scored several runs off of him. Smoltz burned through more pitches in 4 and 2/3 than Clement needed for the full nine. I got laughed at twice for cheering for the Braves, and twice had kids twelve years or younger loudly tell me that the Braves suck. That brief moment when the Braves led two to nothing was nice, but since Smoltz had already thrown a hundred pitches by then I knew the bullpen would be making a mockery of the whole thing sooner rather than later.
But yeah, other than the actual game, everything about yesterday was fantastic. Everyone should put the effort into going to Fenway at some point. It was probably the best birthday gift since being blind-folded and abandoned on an island in the middle of the Broad River.
Okay, yes, Fenway is absolutely amazing, and beautiful, and I want to make sweet love to it, and all that stupid overblown shit. My memories of Wrigley are vague (it's been almost exactly ten years, after all), but Fenway definitely outstrips it in terms of charm and delight. It's an amazing ballpark, and I am completely thrilled that I got to be there yesterday. But god-damn, could it have been a more frustrating game? The Sox had Smoltz on the ropes every single inning, and easily could have scored several runs off of him. Smoltz burned through more pitches in 4 and 2/3 than Clement needed for the full nine. I got laughed at twice for cheering for the Braves, and twice had kids twelve years or younger loudly tell me that the Braves suck. That brief moment when the Braves led two to nothing was nice, but since Smoltz had already thrown a hundred pitches by then I knew the bullpen would be making a mockery of the whole thing sooner rather than later.
But yeah, other than the actual game, everything about yesterday was fantastic. Everyone should put the effort into going to Fenway at some point. It was probably the best birthday gift since being blind-folded and abandoned on an island in the middle of the Broad River.
Friday, May 20, 2005
My chance at the president.
I have just be informed that this fall, the law firm I work at will be celebrating their 100th anniversary. There will be a party for the clients and a shitstorm of other TOTAL BIG SHOTS at the 75,000-100,000 dollar party to end all parties.
The big shot I am concerned with? None other than President Arnold Schwartzenegger.
My goal? To give him a 'Dear President Schwartzenegger...' ep.
This is the chance I've been waiting for.
Will update as more info comes available...
I have just be informed that this fall, the law firm I work at will be celebrating their 100th anniversary. There will be a party for the clients and a shitstorm of other TOTAL BIG SHOTS at the 75,000-100,000 dollar party to end all parties.
The big shot I am concerned with? None other than President Arnold Schwartzenegger.
My goal? To give him a 'Dear President Schwartzenegger...' ep.
This is the chance I've been waiting for.
Will update as more info comes available...
Man vs. Beast -- ULTIMATE EDITION
Do you guys remember that Man vs. Beast special that Fox had a couple years back? I still think about that almost every day. We got together and bet on the best competitions ever to air on television. The hot dog champion trying to out-eat a bear was my favorite. But, do you remember the grand finale? 50 midgets vs. an elephant in a plane pulling contest?
The midgets vs. beast was recently revisited, but this time with harrowing results. This article was pretty hilarious at first, but then I felt bad for thinking it was funny. But how could anyone not think this is funny?
Lion Mutilates 42 Midgets in Cambodian Ring-Fight
Spectators cheered as entire Cambodian Midget Fighting League squared off against African Lion.
Tickets had been sold-out three weeks before the much anticipated fight, which took place in the city of Kâmpóng Chhnãng. The fight was slated when an angry fan contested Yang Sihamoni, President of the CMFL, claiming that one lion could defeat his entire league of 42 fighters.
Sihamoni takes great pride in the league he helped create, as was conveyed in his recent advertising campaign for the CMFL that stated his midgets will "... take on anything; man, beast, or machine."
This campaign is believed to be what sparked the undisclosed fan to challenge the entire league to fight a lion; a challenge that Sihamoni readily accepted.
An African Lion (Panthera Leo) was shipped to centrally located Kâmpóng Chhnãng especially for the event, which took place last Saturday, April 30, 2005 in the city’s coliseum.
The Cambodian Government allowed the fight to take place, under the condition that they receive a 50% commission on each ticket sold, and that no cameras would be allowed in the arena.
The fight was called in only 12 minutes, after which 28 fighters were declared dead, while the other 14 suffered severe injuries including broken bones and lost limbs, rendering them unable to fight back.
Sihamoni was quoted before the fight stating that he felt since his fighters out-numbered the lion 42 to 1, that they “… could out-wit and out-muscle [it].”
Unfortunately, he was wrong.
Do you guys remember that Man vs. Beast special that Fox had a couple years back? I still think about that almost every day. We got together and bet on the best competitions ever to air on television. The hot dog champion trying to out-eat a bear was my favorite. But, do you remember the grand finale? 50 midgets vs. an elephant in a plane pulling contest?
The midgets vs. beast was recently revisited, but this time with harrowing results. This article was pretty hilarious at first, but then I felt bad for thinking it was funny. But how could anyone not think this is funny?
Lion Mutilates 42 Midgets in Cambodian Ring-Fight
Spectators cheered as entire Cambodian Midget Fighting League squared off against African Lion.
Tickets had been sold-out three weeks before the much anticipated fight, which took place in the city of Kâmpóng Chhnãng. The fight was slated when an angry fan contested Yang Sihamoni, President of the CMFL, claiming that one lion could defeat his entire league of 42 fighters.
Sihamoni takes great pride in the league he helped create, as was conveyed in his recent advertising campaign for the CMFL that stated his midgets will "... take on anything; man, beast, or machine."
This campaign is believed to be what sparked the undisclosed fan to challenge the entire league to fight a lion; a challenge that Sihamoni readily accepted.
An African Lion (Panthera Leo) was shipped to centrally located Kâmpóng Chhnãng especially for the event, which took place last Saturday, April 30, 2005 in the city’s coliseum.
The Cambodian Government allowed the fight to take place, under the condition that they receive a 50% commission on each ticket sold, and that no cameras would be allowed in the arena.
The fight was called in only 12 minutes, after which 28 fighters were declared dead, while the other 14 suffered severe injuries including broken bones and lost limbs, rendering them unable to fight back.
Sihamoni was quoted before the fight stating that he felt since his fighters out-numbered the lion 42 to 1, that they “… could out-wit and out-muscle [it].”
Unfortunately, he was wrong.
playlist from yesterday
Also, added information and links pertaining to mine and Crews' radio shows to the side-bar.
Oh yeah, and saw the new Star Wars last night. It was awesome. Such a downer, though.
Also, added information and links pertaining to mine and Crews' radio shows to the side-bar.
Oh yeah, and saw the new Star Wars last night. It was awesome. Such a downer, though.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Atlanta's Ultimate Sports Hero
So the AJC's got this poll up, asking the fine people of Atlanta who they think the city's greatest athlete is. Of course there are only two serious candidates, and frankly I find it impossible to pick between Murph and 'Nique. Okay, you can make a case for pretty much everybody on there, of course, but you could also make a case against all of them. Like Aaron, yeah, he's got that flashy record, and he's been visible in the city for decades, but he spent far more time in Milwaukee than Atlanta. Deion's a dick, Bartkowski and Nobis never stood out in their sport like Dominique did, and Vick's still got a few years 'til earning the title. I love me some Smoltzie (looking like I might be seeing him at Fenway this Sunday, btw), but you just can't elevate him over Glavine or Maddux. Niekro and Chipper are/were great players, but there's nothing exciting about either of them. And Evander done fucked his legacy up, first by refusing to retire with dignity, and secondly by appearing on that ballroom show alongside such "celebrities" as the fake J. Peterman and, well, a bunch of people I don't even recognize. Realistically Bobby Jones should probably get it, and since the people who don't know who he is don't read papers anyway (ie, the kidz), maybe he's got a shot. But for me, and I'd think for most anybody who came of age in the '80's, Murphy and Wilkins are the benchmarks for athletic excellence in Atlanta. Murphy was the king shit of baseball throughout all the southeast in the mid-'80's, and my first favorite player, so it's impossible to not vote for him. But 'Nique went to Georgia, and was pretty amazingly kick-ass most of the time, so it's also hard to not give him the nod. Sweet Jesu, what a moral conundrum!
I'm really surprised neither Glavine nor Maddux made it on the list.
So the AJC's got this poll up, asking the fine people of Atlanta who they think the city's greatest athlete is. Of course there are only two serious candidates, and frankly I find it impossible to pick between Murph and 'Nique. Okay, you can make a case for pretty much everybody on there, of course, but you could also make a case against all of them. Like Aaron, yeah, he's got that flashy record, and he's been visible in the city for decades, but he spent far more time in Milwaukee than Atlanta. Deion's a dick, Bartkowski and Nobis never stood out in their sport like Dominique did, and Vick's still got a few years 'til earning the title. I love me some Smoltzie (looking like I might be seeing him at Fenway this Sunday, btw), but you just can't elevate him over Glavine or Maddux. Niekro and Chipper are/were great players, but there's nothing exciting about either of them. And Evander done fucked his legacy up, first by refusing to retire with dignity, and secondly by appearing on that ballroom show alongside such "celebrities" as the fake J. Peterman and, well, a bunch of people I don't even recognize. Realistically Bobby Jones should probably get it, and since the people who don't know who he is don't read papers anyway (ie, the kidz), maybe he's got a shot. But for me, and I'd think for most anybody who came of age in the '80's, Murphy and Wilkins are the benchmarks for athletic excellence in Atlanta. Murphy was the king shit of baseball throughout all the southeast in the mid-'80's, and my first favorite player, so it's impossible to not vote for him. But 'Nique went to Georgia, and was pretty amazingly kick-ass most of the time, so it's also hard to not give him the nod. Sweet Jesu, what a moral conundrum!
I'm really surprised neither Glavine nor Maddux made it on the list.
Mesmerization Eclipse Radio
MezEclipse will be on WZBC today (and every Thursday this summer) at 3:00 pm, Eastern Standard. Hopefully the hangover will be gone by then.
Anyone watch Lost last night? First truly good episode in a long while. Got me very excited for next week's finale.
Oh, and how are those Star Wars going?
MezEclipse will be on WZBC today (and every Thursday this summer) at 3:00 pm, Eastern Standard. Hopefully the hangover will be gone by then.
Anyone watch Lost last night? First truly good episode in a long while. Got me very excited for next week's finale.
Oh, and how are those Star Wars going?
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
judicial sweetcheeks
Did anybody else detect a little lascivious lilt in Senator Sessions' voice when he said "we have some exceedingly fine [judges]"?
It set me to thinking. Which Supreme Court justice, historically, do you think was the tenderest and most attentive lover? I don't know much about circuit or appellate courts, or anything like that, so we'll have to exclude those from consideration.
I've got the notion that Felix Frankfurter was a titan in the boudoir.
Did anybody else detect a little lascivious lilt in Senator Sessions' voice when he said "we have some exceedingly fine [judges]"?
It set me to thinking. Which Supreme Court justice, historically, do you think was the tenderest and most attentive lover? I don't know much about circuit or appellate courts, or anything like that, so we'll have to exclude those from consideration.
I've got the notion that Felix Frankfurter was a titan in the boudoir.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
white noise in a white room
Went to see Gang of Four last night with Brandon. I really like fat drummers, and I really like dudes who wear headset mics, so when I first saw Hugo Burnham I pretty much immediately knew it was going to be a great night. I don't have much to add to SA's post, really. Gang of Four were completely amazing. The songs that weren't from Entertainment! were mostly kind of dull, but there were only like four of them, and one, "To Hell With Poverty", was a highlight. They seem to be playing the same set, as it matched up almost perfectly with what Sean mentioned in his post. They did the two encores, finishing up with "I Found That Essence Rare". The bass-sound was fine, thankfully, and Gill's guitar is still pretty mind-blowing. They all look awful, of course, but that's what you expect from these reunion deals. But yes, Gang of Four were utterly fantastic, and those Radio 4 assholes are total douchebags.
Went to see Gang of Four last night with Brandon. I really like fat drummers, and I really like dudes who wear headset mics, so when I first saw Hugo Burnham I pretty much immediately knew it was going to be a great night. I don't have much to add to SA's post, really. Gang of Four were completely amazing. The songs that weren't from Entertainment! were mostly kind of dull, but there were only like four of them, and one, "To Hell With Poverty", was a highlight. They seem to be playing the same set, as it matched up almost perfectly with what Sean mentioned in his post. They did the two encores, finishing up with "I Found That Essence Rare". The bass-sound was fine, thankfully, and Gill's guitar is still pretty mind-blowing. They all look awful, of course, but that's what you expect from these reunion deals. But yes, Gang of Four were utterly fantastic, and those Radio 4 assholes are total douchebags.
Monday, May 16, 2005
My current favorite weblog
Cake and Polka Parade is probably the best audioblog thing going right now. I especially recommend the mp3s by Jon.
Cake and Polka Parade is probably the best audioblog thing going right now. I especially recommend the mp3s by Jon.
Friday, May 13, 2005
Normaltown takes another hit
The Navy Supply School is on the Pentagon's list of military installations to be shuttered. Has the University sprawled out down Prince yet? Who else would want to buy that much land in Athens?
The Navy Supply School is on the Pentagon's list of military installations to be shuttered. Has the University sprawled out down Prince yet? Who else would want to buy that much land in Athens?
if only something unpleasant could happen to Blogger, post-haste.
I'm normally not a rash individual, but I would love to give Blogger some sort of highly painful, embarrassing, and inconvenient venereal disease right now. I spent my first hour at work this morning writing out a long response to Emerson's comment about Arcesia over at the extension. Of course, like an idiot, I didn't save it in Word first. So I type this big long thing up, about how Irwin Chusid's book does a great disservice to people like Daniel Johnston, Jandek, Captain Beefheart, Harry Partch, etc., how insulting it is to equate them with people who are incompetent or whose madness is their sole point of interest, and about how Jandek, in particular, deserves more respect than he gets in Songs in the Key of Z. It was a big long post, five or six paragraphs, and it was probably the most brilliant thing ever written by anybody ever. And then Blogger ate it up, spat it out, stomped on it, took a massive dump all over it, and said, "you know what, no thanks". I didn't save it, it's now gone forever, and I've completely wasted my morning. So yes, please, Blogger, go get fucked, painfully, and with great future debilitation.
I'm normally not a rash individual, but I would love to give Blogger some sort of highly painful, embarrassing, and inconvenient venereal disease right now. I spent my first hour at work this morning writing out a long response to Emerson's comment about Arcesia over at the extension. Of course, like an idiot, I didn't save it in Word first. So I type this big long thing up, about how Irwin Chusid's book does a great disservice to people like Daniel Johnston, Jandek, Captain Beefheart, Harry Partch, etc., how insulting it is to equate them with people who are incompetent or whose madness is their sole point of interest, and about how Jandek, in particular, deserves more respect than he gets in Songs in the Key of Z. It was a big long post, five or six paragraphs, and it was probably the most brilliant thing ever written by anybody ever. And then Blogger ate it up, spat it out, stomped on it, took a massive dump all over it, and said, "you know what, no thanks". I didn't save it, it's now gone forever, and I've completely wasted my morning. So yes, please, Blogger, go get fucked, painfully, and with great future debilitation.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
why
LYRICS--- All of these, especially the Big Star song, look stupid written down. But when they are sung it does something to me.
Part Company - Go-Betweens (Robert Forster)
Come and have a look, beside me
A fine line of tears, part company.
That's her handwriting, that's the way she writes
From the first letter I got to this her Bill of Rights, part company.
And what will I miss? Her cruelty, her unfaithfulness
Her fun, her love, her kiss, part company.
That's her handwriting, that's the way she writes
Like mud in the September rain it comes, back to me.
Thirteen - Big Star
Won't you let me walk you home from school
Won't you let me meet you at the pool
Maybe friday i can
Get tickets for the dance
And i'll take you
Thunder Road - Bruce Springsteen (there could be dozens to make this list)
The screen door slams
Mary's dress sways
Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays
Roy Orbison singing for the lonely
Hey that's me and I want you only
Don't turn me home again I just can't face myself alone again
Don't run back inside, darling you know just what I'm here for
So you're scared and you're thinking that maybe we ain't that young anymore
Show a little faith there's magic in the night
You ain't a beauty but hey you're all right
Oh and that's all right with me
You can hide 'neath your covers and study your pain
Make crosses from your lovers, throw roses in the rain
Waste your summer praying in vain for a saviour to rise from these streets
Well now I'm no hero that's understood
All the redemption I can offer girl is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow, hey what else can we do now?
Except roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair
Well the night's busting open these two lanes will take us anywhere
We got one last chance to make it real
To trade in these wings on some wheels
Climb in back, heaven's waiting down on the tracks
Oh-oh come take my hand
We're riding out tonight to case the promised land
Oh-oh Thunder Road oh Thunder Road
Lying out there like a killer in the sun
Hey I know it's late we can make it if we run
Oh Thunder Road sit tight take hold Thunder Road
Well I got this guitar and I learned how to make it talk
And my car's out back if you're ready to take that long walk
From your front porch to my front seat
The door's open bu the ride it ain't free
And I know you're lonely and there's words that I ain't spoken
But tonight we'll be free, all the promises will be broken
There were ghosts in the eyes of all the boys your sent away
They haunt this dusty beach road in the skeleton frames of burned out Chevrolets
They scream your name at night in the street
Your graduation gown lies in rags at ther feet
And in the lonely cool before dawn
You hear their engines roaring on
But when you get to the porch they're gone
On the wind so Mary climb in
It's a town full of losers and I'm pulling out of here to win!
Asleep And Dreaming - Magnetic Fields
I've seen you laugh at nothing at all
I've seen you sadly weeping
The sweetest thing I ever saw
Was you asleep and dreaming
I don't know if you're beautiful
But it's not for me to judge
I don't know if you're beautiful
Because I love you too much
Tim's Song - Greg Harmelink
Talk about, talk about my problems
No one seems to hear what I'm saying anyway
Check the clock, check my watch
Make it look like I am leaving town today
But did you know all the time?
Did you synchronize all your clocks to mine?
Take your time, talk it slow
Make sure that you understand the meaning of the story
Overhead it passes by
Like a foreign language to Americans when they're on vacation
But did you know all the time?
Did you synchronize all your clocks to mine?
I calculated the distance
Between your life and mine
The difference between what you wish and what you get out of your life.
That's probably the saddest song I've ever heard. Maybe it's just because I know the person.
INSTRUMENTALS
1. MASH theme (see Masters' live cd -- I know it's 'Suicide Is Painless' but without the lyrics it's the MASH theme)
2. Jessica - Allman Bros. (ripped off of Hillary I think)
3. A-Team theme
4. classical music
5. jazz music
LIVE SHOWS
1. David Byrne - GA Theater (summer 2001?)
2. Bruce Springsteen - CNN Palace (summer 2000?)
3. Mind Zap - McLaren Park (4/23/05)
4. Some sort of Neutral Milk Hotel show (1998ish)
5. If seen now, it probably wouldn't be all that ass-tearing, but back in the day I was FUCKA STOKED on Sugar at the Roxy in 1994, Superchunk at the Masquerade in 1995, GBV at the Masquerade in 1995, at probably most of all Superchunk, Pavement, Pavement again, Portastatic, Versus, Sonic Youth, Beck, and Built to Spill at Lollapalooza 1995.
UNDERAPPRECIATED ARTISTS
1. Go-Betweens
2. Kinks
3. Clean
4. Bugs Eat Books
5. Pylon (pretty unheard of outside of Athens)
START TO FINISH ALBUMS (God... Believe it or not, this is even more difficult than the lyrics section. I never listen to anything start to finish.)
1. Brian Wilson - Smile (sorta long though)
2. Television - Marquee Moon (only eight songs so it's easy to listen to straight through)
3. Wilco - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (I don't really listen to this the whole way through but it seems like a good album to do that with)
4. Buzzcocks - Singles Going Steady (The first half is so awesome that I've actually tried to skip songs or turn it off and I can't. Too many ass-shreds in a row. But this is not a real album so...)
Talking Heads - More Songs About Buildings and Food (Same thing as Singles Going Steady but to a lesser degree)
5. Rocketship - A Certain Smile, A Certain Sadness (only eight short songs. easy.)
HEROES
1. Robert Forster
2. David Byrne
3. Bruce Springsteen
4. Brian Wilson
4. Joe Strummer? I don't know. I know for sure he wouldn't be on there if I gave it some more thought.
LYRICS--- All of these, especially the Big Star song, look stupid written down. But when they are sung it does something to me.
Part Company - Go-Betweens (Robert Forster)
Come and have a look, beside me
A fine line of tears, part company.
That's her handwriting, that's the way she writes
From the first letter I got to this her Bill of Rights, part company.
And what will I miss? Her cruelty, her unfaithfulness
Her fun, her love, her kiss, part company.
That's her handwriting, that's the way she writes
Like mud in the September rain it comes, back to me.
Thirteen - Big Star
Won't you let me walk you home from school
Won't you let me meet you at the pool
Maybe friday i can
Get tickets for the dance
And i'll take you
Thunder Road - Bruce Springsteen (there could be dozens to make this list)
The screen door slams
Mary's dress sways
Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays
Roy Orbison singing for the lonely
Hey that's me and I want you only
Don't turn me home again I just can't face myself alone again
Don't run back inside, darling you know just what I'm here for
So you're scared and you're thinking that maybe we ain't that young anymore
Show a little faith there's magic in the night
You ain't a beauty but hey you're all right
Oh and that's all right with me
You can hide 'neath your covers and study your pain
Make crosses from your lovers, throw roses in the rain
Waste your summer praying in vain for a saviour to rise from these streets
Well now I'm no hero that's understood
All the redemption I can offer girl is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow, hey what else can we do now?
Except roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair
Well the night's busting open these two lanes will take us anywhere
We got one last chance to make it real
To trade in these wings on some wheels
Climb in back, heaven's waiting down on the tracks
Oh-oh come take my hand
We're riding out tonight to case the promised land
Oh-oh Thunder Road oh Thunder Road
Lying out there like a killer in the sun
Hey I know it's late we can make it if we run
Oh Thunder Road sit tight take hold Thunder Road
Well I got this guitar and I learned how to make it talk
And my car's out back if you're ready to take that long walk
From your front porch to my front seat
The door's open bu the ride it ain't free
And I know you're lonely and there's words that I ain't spoken
But tonight we'll be free, all the promises will be broken
There were ghosts in the eyes of all the boys your sent away
They haunt this dusty beach road in the skeleton frames of burned out Chevrolets
They scream your name at night in the street
Your graduation gown lies in rags at ther feet
And in the lonely cool before dawn
You hear their engines roaring on
But when you get to the porch they're gone
On the wind so Mary climb in
It's a town full of losers and I'm pulling out of here to win!
Asleep And Dreaming - Magnetic Fields
I've seen you laugh at nothing at all
I've seen you sadly weeping
The sweetest thing I ever saw
Was you asleep and dreaming
I don't know if you're beautiful
But it's not for me to judge
I don't know if you're beautiful
Because I love you too much
Tim's Song - Greg Harmelink
Talk about, talk about my problems
No one seems to hear what I'm saying anyway
Check the clock, check my watch
Make it look like I am leaving town today
But did you know all the time?
Did you synchronize all your clocks to mine?
Take your time, talk it slow
Make sure that you understand the meaning of the story
Overhead it passes by
Like a foreign language to Americans when they're on vacation
But did you know all the time?
Did you synchronize all your clocks to mine?
I calculated the distance
Between your life and mine
The difference between what you wish and what you get out of your life.
That's probably the saddest song I've ever heard. Maybe it's just because I know the person.
INSTRUMENTALS
1. MASH theme (see Masters' live cd -- I know it's 'Suicide Is Painless' but without the lyrics it's the MASH theme)
2. Jessica - Allman Bros. (ripped off of Hillary I think)
3. A-Team theme
4. classical music
5. jazz music
LIVE SHOWS
1. David Byrne - GA Theater (summer 2001?)
2. Bruce Springsteen - CNN Palace (summer 2000?)
3. Mind Zap - McLaren Park (4/23/05)
4. Some sort of Neutral Milk Hotel show (1998ish)
5. If seen now, it probably wouldn't be all that ass-tearing, but back in the day I was FUCKA STOKED on Sugar at the Roxy in 1994, Superchunk at the Masquerade in 1995, GBV at the Masquerade in 1995, at probably most of all Superchunk, Pavement, Pavement again, Portastatic, Versus, Sonic Youth, Beck, and Built to Spill at Lollapalooza 1995.
UNDERAPPRECIATED ARTISTS
1. Go-Betweens
2. Kinks
3. Clean
4. Bugs Eat Books
5. Pylon (pretty unheard of outside of Athens)
START TO FINISH ALBUMS (God... Believe it or not, this is even more difficult than the lyrics section. I never listen to anything start to finish.)
1. Brian Wilson - Smile (sorta long though)
2. Television - Marquee Moon (only eight songs so it's easy to listen to straight through)
3. Wilco - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (I don't really listen to this the whole way through but it seems like a good album to do that with)
4. Buzzcocks - Singles Going Steady (The first half is so awesome that I've actually tried to skip songs or turn it off and I can't. Too many ass-shreds in a row. But this is not a real album so...)
Talking Heads - More Songs About Buildings and Food (Same thing as Singles Going Steady but to a lesser degree)
5. Rocketship - A Certain Smile, A Certain Sadness (only eight short songs. easy.)
HEROES
1. Robert Forster
2. David Byrne
3. Bruce Springsteen
4. Brian Wilson
4. Joe Strummer? I don't know. I know for sure he wouldn't be on there if I gave it some more thought.
following her lead
A. Top Five Lyrics that Move Your Heart:
will have to get back to you on this one.
B. Top 5 Instrumentals
Theme from Midnight Express
Boston's "Foreplay"
The Home Depot music
Edgar Winter's “Frankenstein”
“Sufficiently Breakfast”
C. Top 5 Live Musical Experiences
Pretty much every GBV show would fit on here, so I’m excluding all of them.
VANISH, July 1996: Superchunk, Archers of Loaf, Polvo, and more at the old Durham Bulls ballpark
the four Yo la Tengo shows in Athens and Atlanta in July and October of 1997
Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, my second day living in New York, August 1995
Archers of Loaf, Midtown Music Hall, January 19, 1995
Royal Trux at the 40 Watt in January, 2000, during the big ice storm
D. Top Five Artists You Think More People Should Listen To
Oneida
the Jazz Butcher
the Summer Hymns
Crooked Fingers (yeah, they have fans, but not enough)
Dances With Wolves
E. Top Five Albums You Must Hear From Start to Finish
You’re Living All Over Me
Revolver
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
Chairs Missing
Nebraska
F. Top Five Musical Heroes
Mark E. Smith
Robert Pollard
Eric Bachman
Bruce Springsteen
Bob Seger
I spent maybe ten minutes working on this, so I'm sure all information is already incorrect. In fact I've already remembered that the theme from "Taxi" should probably be on the instrumental list.
A. Top Five Lyrics that Move Your Heart:
will have to get back to you on this one.
B. Top 5 Instrumentals
Theme from Midnight Express
Boston's "Foreplay"
The Home Depot music
Edgar Winter's “Frankenstein”
“Sufficiently Breakfast”
C. Top 5 Live Musical Experiences
Pretty much every GBV show would fit on here, so I’m excluding all of them.
VANISH, July 1996: Superchunk, Archers of Loaf, Polvo, and more at the old Durham Bulls ballpark
the four Yo la Tengo shows in Athens and Atlanta in July and October of 1997
Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, my second day living in New York, August 1995
Archers of Loaf, Midtown Music Hall, January 19, 1995
Royal Trux at the 40 Watt in January, 2000, during the big ice storm
D. Top Five Artists You Think More People Should Listen To
Oneida
the Jazz Butcher
the Summer Hymns
Crooked Fingers (yeah, they have fans, but not enough)
Dances With Wolves
E. Top Five Albums You Must Hear From Start to Finish
You’re Living All Over Me
Revolver
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
Chairs Missing
Nebraska
F. Top Five Musical Heroes
Mark E. Smith
Robert Pollard
Eric Bachman
Bruce Springsteen
Bob Seger
I spent maybe ten minutes working on this, so I'm sure all information is already incorrect. In fact I've already remembered that the theme from "Taxi" should probably be on the instrumental list.
radical radiators
A quick reminder: I'll be dj'ing on WZBC today, and every Thursday this summer, from three to five pm, eastern standard time. I rearranged my work schedule and everything to get this time off. I'm gonna depart from 100 Hancock promptly at noon, stopping for a quick lunch at Roggie's on the way to the station. They've got this special where you can get soup, a sandwich, and a Molson draft for five bucks. The place might actually be called The Avenue; I can't tell. Like the Shrimp Boats, it's pretty damn hard to know what the hell they call themselves. It's one of those restaurants that has two different signs up, and folks in the neighborhood use both names regularly. It's a monstrously shitty place, though, always chock full of asshole college fucks drinking away their daddy's retirement money. The sidewalk in front of and alongside Roggie's is like that stretch of Clayton that always reeks of vomit and liquor. But dude, you can't beat five bucks for a sandwich, soup, and a beer. And they only run that special from noon to five, so I have yet to be able to enjoy it properly. I'm sure it'll suck, like the beer will be 9/10's water, and the sandwich will be like the size of a Post-It note, and it'll have mayonaisse on it, and shit. But still, five bucks! And afterward, the radio.
A quick reminder: I'll be dj'ing on WZBC today, and every Thursday this summer, from three to five pm, eastern standard time. I rearranged my work schedule and everything to get this time off. I'm gonna depart from 100 Hancock promptly at noon, stopping for a quick lunch at Roggie's on the way to the station. They've got this special where you can get soup, a sandwich, and a Molson draft for five bucks. The place might actually be called The Avenue; I can't tell. Like the Shrimp Boats, it's pretty damn hard to know what the hell they call themselves. It's one of those restaurants that has two different signs up, and folks in the neighborhood use both names regularly. It's a monstrously shitty place, though, always chock full of asshole college fucks drinking away their daddy's retirement money. The sidewalk in front of and alongside Roggie's is like that stretch of Clayton that always reeks of vomit and liquor. But dude, you can't beat five bucks for a sandwich, soup, and a beer. And they only run that special from noon to five, so I have yet to be able to enjoy it properly. I'm sure it'll suck, like the beer will be 9/10's water, and the sandwich will be like the size of a Post-It note, and it'll have mayonaisse on it, and shit. But still, five bucks! And afterward, the radio.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
auditory opinion enforcment
Over the last few months I've filled in occasionally at WZBC, Boston College's radio station. I've been fortunate enough to receive my own weekly show, starting tomorrow at 3:00 PM, EST. It'll run through August, and hopefully beyond. They've got streams on their site, but the damn things have never worked for me. If you're capable, though, perchance you'd like to listen in?
Over the last few months I've filled in occasionally at WZBC, Boston College's radio station. I've been fortunate enough to receive my own weekly show, starting tomorrow at 3:00 PM, EST. It'll run through August, and hopefully beyond. They've got streams on their site, but the damn things have never worked for me. If you're capable, though, perchance you'd like to listen in?
opinion enforcement
So for the first time in three or four years, I've gotten stuff in consecutive issues of the Flagpole. This half-assed Mountain Goats review at the bottom of the page would still be awful even if the first paragraph hadn't been awkwardly jiggered with a bit. But between that, and last week's Dead Meadow review, I'm on a roll. Sure, it's a roll of horribly unthoughtful reviews that could very easily have been written by a mentally-damaged eight-year-old, but it's a start, anyway.
So for the first time in three or four years, I've gotten stuff in consecutive issues of the Flagpole. This half-assed Mountain Goats review at the bottom of the page would still be awful even if the first paragraph hadn't been awkwardly jiggered with a bit. But between that, and last week's Dead Meadow review, I'm on a roll. Sure, it's a roll of horribly unthoughtful reviews that could very easily have been written by a mentally-damaged eight-year-old, but it's a start, anyway.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Asshole Black!
We had a birthday dinner at Pauline's Pizza on Friday night. I got tanked but good, and that probably helped out with the enjoyment. It's such a long dinner, and could easily do without the fashion show segment, even though that was pretty cool. I requested the "meatzeroni", to which the waiter failed to respond. We ended up ordering some meat combo with Italian sausage and salami among other things and added double-baked ham, procuitto or however you spell it and PORK SHOULDER. So much meat was piled on that beast that you had to eat it with a fork and knife. It turned out the restaurant did serve us the meatzeroni. It's definitely nutty and screwy and actually sort of charming in that completely escapist, "let's all deny the real world", 2000's San Francisco sort of way. While those ladies were getting spa treatments and buying expensive dresses and perfumes, my grandfather was busy trying to grow dirt in some backwoods corner of North Cackalackie. But I guess things weren't quite so depressing for rich, white, society dames from NYC. Also, I don't know tits about feminism, but I'm sure this pizza don't gibe with that a'tall. Still, some entertainment, and that was before taking over a bar called Sadie's Flying Elephant, guzzling shots and beers all night, the Brah throwing up after our first shot, and the afterparty at Phil's that I don't remember.
The next day the missus was somehow more hungover than me, even though I woke up in my clothes (white pants, white button up shirt, and burgandy dickie [fake turtleneck]), shivering on top of the covers, and it was nicht good. Later I watched a few innings of Friday's mets game, an alright game that would be awful if it weren't for Mike Cameron amongst others. Cameron's one hell of a player, and I can't figure out why we don't see more of him on the Baseball Tonight. Watching the mets reinforced something I've felt for a while now, that television shows that are self-contained and non-serial are kind of a waste of time. It's hard to get emotionally or intellectually invested in a show that hits the reset button every thirty or sixty minutes*. But after the game, and after avoiding a couple of deliriously hungover phone conversations with Big Brah and Thrilla, I bought some nachos, made Mook get out of bed at 5pm and wathed Saturday's mets game. I had attempted to take in some of the Derby, but was completely beyond any concept of comprehension at that point in the day. But the return of Mike Cameron's deft play was welcome, indeed, and the mets game was reliably excellent. After the match I stayed up 'til one watching the Wire and listening to records; I refused to leave the house to watch a Who cover band.
I slept off my hangover the next day too. Again, we didn't do shit. We talked to our moms, ate some lunch, and then returned to the couch for some television. It was cold and rainy all weekend, so it's not like there was much else we could do. We caught a few more episodes of the Wire (still the weakest of the Williams St shows), and then Undertow, which wasn't as good as I was expecting. Not too bad, or nothing, but not the absolute best shit ever I anticipated. Actually I was only expecting "good." And that was our weekend. Oh so unbelievably exciting. What a hell of a way to live one's life.
*: as usual with television, The Simpsons is the exception that proves the rule.
We had a birthday dinner at Pauline's Pizza on Friday night. I got tanked but good, and that probably helped out with the enjoyment. It's such a long dinner, and could easily do without the fashion show segment, even though that was pretty cool. I requested the "meatzeroni", to which the waiter failed to respond. We ended up ordering some meat combo with Italian sausage and salami among other things and added double-baked ham, procuitto or however you spell it and PORK SHOULDER. So much meat was piled on that beast that you had to eat it with a fork and knife. It turned out the restaurant did serve us the meatzeroni. It's definitely nutty and screwy and actually sort of charming in that completely escapist, "let's all deny the real world", 2000's San Francisco sort of way. While those ladies were getting spa treatments and buying expensive dresses and perfumes, my grandfather was busy trying to grow dirt in some backwoods corner of North Cackalackie. But I guess things weren't quite so depressing for rich, white, society dames from NYC. Also, I don't know tits about feminism, but I'm sure this pizza don't gibe with that a'tall. Still, some entertainment, and that was before taking over a bar called Sadie's Flying Elephant, guzzling shots and beers all night, the Brah throwing up after our first shot, and the afterparty at Phil's that I don't remember.
The next day the missus was somehow more hungover than me, even though I woke up in my clothes (white pants, white button up shirt, and burgandy dickie [fake turtleneck]), shivering on top of the covers, and it was nicht good. Later I watched a few innings of Friday's mets game, an alright game that would be awful if it weren't for Mike Cameron amongst others. Cameron's one hell of a player, and I can't figure out why we don't see more of him on the Baseball Tonight. Watching the mets reinforced something I've felt for a while now, that television shows that are self-contained and non-serial are kind of a waste of time. It's hard to get emotionally or intellectually invested in a show that hits the reset button every thirty or sixty minutes*. But after the game, and after avoiding a couple of deliriously hungover phone conversations with Big Brah and Thrilla, I bought some nachos, made Mook get out of bed at 5pm and wathed Saturday's mets game. I had attempted to take in some of the Derby, but was completely beyond any concept of comprehension at that point in the day. But the return of Mike Cameron's deft play was welcome, indeed, and the mets game was reliably excellent. After the match I stayed up 'til one watching the Wire and listening to records; I refused to leave the house to watch a Who cover band.
I slept off my hangover the next day too. Again, we didn't do shit. We talked to our moms, ate some lunch, and then returned to the couch for some television. It was cold and rainy all weekend, so it's not like there was much else we could do. We caught a few more episodes of the Wire (still the weakest of the Williams St shows), and then Undertow, which wasn't as good as I was expecting. Not too bad, or nothing, but not the absolute best shit ever I anticipated. Actually I was only expecting "good." And that was our weekend. Oh so unbelievably exciting. What a hell of a way to live one's life.
*: as usual with television, The Simpsons is the exception that proves the rule.
Jungle Red!
We watched George Cukor's The Women on Friday night. I got tanked but good, and that probably helped out with the enjoyment. It's such a long film, and could easily do without the fashion show segment, even though that was pretty cool. Joan Crawford is a frightening man-creature, Rosalind Russell was pretty but about as over-the-top as an Eggland's Best ad, and Norma Shearer was very convincing as the actress who only got work because she was schtupping Irving Thalberg. It's definitely nutty and screwy and actually sort of charming in that completely escapist, "let's all deny the real world", 1930's Hollywood sort of way. While those ladies were getting spa treatments and buying expensive dresses and perfumes, my grandfather was busy trying to grow dirt in some backwoods corner of North Cackalackie. But I guess things weren't quite so depressing for rich, white, society dames from NYC. Also, I don't know tits about feminism, but I'm sure this flick don't gibe with that a'tall. Still, some entertainment, and that Paulette Goddard certainly was a fox.
The next day the missus baked some bread, and it was good. Later we watched a few episodes of Monk, an alright show that would be awful if it weren't for Tony Shalhoub. Antonio's one hell of an actor, and I can't figure out why we don't see more of him on the big screen. Watching Monk reinforced something I've felt for a while now, that television shows that are self-contained and non-serial are kind of a waste of time. It's hard to get emotionally or intellectually invested in a show that hits the reset button every thirty or sixty minutes*. But after Monk, and after a couple of deliriously drunken phone conversations with Coke Breath and LD, we watched a pretty decent episode of Saturday Night Live. I had been drinking vodka since before the Derby, and was completely beyond any concept of comprehension by then, so if I'm wrong, and if the show did suck, well, sorry. But the return of Fred Armisen's deaf stand-up who tries to tell racist jokes through a black interpreter was welcome, indeed, and the Bear City was reliably excellent. After the show I stayed up 'til four playing MVP Baseball 2005 and listening to records; I played this weekend's entire Atlanta - Houston four-game series in one sitting, going 3-1.
I slept off my hangover the next day. Again, we didn't do shit. We talked to our moms, ate some lunch, and then returned to the house for some television. It was cold and rainy all weekend, so it's not like there was much else we could do. We caught a few episodes of Harvey Birdman (still the weakest of the Williams St shows), the first two from season one of Northern Exposure (I haven't seen this since high school - a damn good show), and then Meet the Fockers, which wasn't as awful as I was expecting. Not too good, or nothing, but not the absolute shit-heap I anticipated. We also watched the two new Simpsons, only one of which was worthwhile. And that was our weekend. Oh so unbelievably exciting. What a hell of a way to live one's life.
*: as usual with television, The Simpsons is the exception that proves the rule.
We watched George Cukor's The Women on Friday night. I got tanked but good, and that probably helped out with the enjoyment. It's such a long film, and could easily do without the fashion show segment, even though that was pretty cool. Joan Crawford is a frightening man-creature, Rosalind Russell was pretty but about as over-the-top as an Eggland's Best ad, and Norma Shearer was very convincing as the actress who only got work because she was schtupping Irving Thalberg. It's definitely nutty and screwy and actually sort of charming in that completely escapist, "let's all deny the real world", 1930's Hollywood sort of way. While those ladies were getting spa treatments and buying expensive dresses and perfumes, my grandfather was busy trying to grow dirt in some backwoods corner of North Cackalackie. But I guess things weren't quite so depressing for rich, white, society dames from NYC. Also, I don't know tits about feminism, but I'm sure this flick don't gibe with that a'tall. Still, some entertainment, and that Paulette Goddard certainly was a fox.
The next day the missus baked some bread, and it was good. Later we watched a few episodes of Monk, an alright show that would be awful if it weren't for Tony Shalhoub. Antonio's one hell of an actor, and I can't figure out why we don't see more of him on the big screen. Watching Monk reinforced something I've felt for a while now, that television shows that are self-contained and non-serial are kind of a waste of time. It's hard to get emotionally or intellectually invested in a show that hits the reset button every thirty or sixty minutes*. But after Monk, and after a couple of deliriously drunken phone conversations with Coke Breath and LD, we watched a pretty decent episode of Saturday Night Live. I had been drinking vodka since before the Derby, and was completely beyond any concept of comprehension by then, so if I'm wrong, and if the show did suck, well, sorry. But the return of Fred Armisen's deaf stand-up who tries to tell racist jokes through a black interpreter was welcome, indeed, and the Bear City was reliably excellent. After the show I stayed up 'til four playing MVP Baseball 2005 and listening to records; I played this weekend's entire Atlanta - Houston four-game series in one sitting, going 3-1.
I slept off my hangover the next day. Again, we didn't do shit. We talked to our moms, ate some lunch, and then returned to the house for some television. It was cold and rainy all weekend, so it's not like there was much else we could do. We caught a few episodes of Harvey Birdman (still the weakest of the Williams St shows), the first two from season one of Northern Exposure (I haven't seen this since high school - a damn good show), and then Meet the Fockers, which wasn't as awful as I was expecting. Not too good, or nothing, but not the absolute shit-heap I anticipated. We also watched the two new Simpsons, only one of which was worthwhile. And that was our weekend. Oh so unbelievably exciting. What a hell of a way to live one's life.
*: as usual with television, The Simpsons is the exception that proves the rule.
Friday, May 06, 2005
COULD I BE HAPPY WITH SOMETHING/SOMEONE ELSE?
Here's a short/feeble review of the Gang Of Four I saw the other night. I had designs to write a review of it for this dang on blog, but I'm lazy and somewhat busy at work. Here's an e-mail I just sent to everyone's personal fave, Ice.
i'm still not ready to talk about the gang of four show.
no... i was planning on writing a review of it on dark's blog but i think i'm slacking it away. it was sort of shocking. brah didn't like it, but everyone else thought it was great. the reason brah didn't like it was the singer is fucking insane. think michael stipe times ten mixed with some midnight oil and a little... Jim Carrey!? Yes. i think that describes it.
so that's why biggie couldn't handle it. but having said that, all but four songs were off of the first two albums... the played pretty much everything anyone wanted to hear, and some songs were fucking awesome as shit. 'Natural's Not In It', 'Return the Gift', 'At Home He's A Tourist', 'Anthrax', 'What We All Want'-- all these were awesome. Besides maybe a David Byrne show, I've never seen 1500 people going nuts like that at a show. On a lot of parts you couldn't hear the vocals because everyone was singing along.
The bass sound was awful, which was unfortunate because that's my favorite part of the band. The drums weren't quite as good as on the albums, but the dude looks like Frank Black now. The guitar and singing, however, were right on.
Really great show, but their stage presence was shocking to say the least even though I had already seen them on a bootleg video from the early 80's and knew the singer acted like a freak.
Here's a short/feeble review of the Gang Of Four I saw the other night. I had designs to write a review of it for this dang on blog, but I'm lazy and somewhat busy at work. Here's an e-mail I just sent to everyone's personal fave, Ice.
i'm still not ready to talk about the gang of four show.
no... i was planning on writing a review of it on dark's blog but i think i'm slacking it away. it was sort of shocking. brah didn't like it, but everyone else thought it was great. the reason brah didn't like it was the singer is fucking insane. think michael stipe times ten mixed with some midnight oil and a little... Jim Carrey!? Yes. i think that describes it.
so that's why biggie couldn't handle it. but having said that, all but four songs were off of the first two albums... the played pretty much everything anyone wanted to hear, and some songs were fucking awesome as shit. 'Natural's Not In It', 'Return the Gift', 'At Home He's A Tourist', 'Anthrax', 'What We All Want'-- all these were awesome. Besides maybe a David Byrne show, I've never seen 1500 people going nuts like that at a show. On a lot of parts you couldn't hear the vocals because everyone was singing along.
The bass sound was awful, which was unfortunate because that's my favorite part of the band. The drums weren't quite as good as on the albums, but the dude looks like Frank Black now. The guitar and singing, however, were right on.
Really great show, but their stage presence was shocking to say the least even though I had already seen them on a bootleg video from the early 80's and knew the singer acted like a freak.
Brian Crews on the radio today
As a part of their senior citizen community outreach program, Duke's radio station WXDU will be letting Old Man Crews run the board today, from 2 to 4 pm, est. One of us should keep the webcam running, so we can call an ambulance if Crews has a stroke.
So what's the over/under on us hearing some Tullycraft?
As a part of their senior citizen community outreach program, Duke's radio station WXDU will be letting Old Man Crews run the board today, from 2 to 4 pm, est. One of us should keep the webcam running, so we can call an ambulance if Crews has a stroke.
So what's the over/under on us hearing some Tullycraft?
Monday, May 02, 2005
alezapoppin'
Friday night I was supposed to hit up this thing with Brandon and a couple other ex-Athenians that I don't know very well. I had to bow out due to my wife's unexpected illness, which prevented her from going on her scheduled work-trip to Georgia. No problems, though, I just kicked back, watched some movies with the missus, played some MVP Baseball 2005, and got drunk on my own terms.
I've been working my way through the Ommegang family of ales, and decided to take a crack at Hennepin this weekend. It was nice, slighter lighter than Ommegang, but not as Ommegang Witte. I'd rank it alongside Rare Vos, ahead of the Witte, but below Ommegang and my personal favorite, Three Philosophers.
I'll start drinking real Belgian ale once they cheapen up the price a bit.
If you're interested in learning more about these crazy mixed-up beers that'll get you, like, totally fucked up, go read Beer Advocate.
Friday night I was supposed to hit up this thing with Brandon and a couple other ex-Athenians that I don't know very well. I had to bow out due to my wife's unexpected illness, which prevented her from going on her scheduled work-trip to Georgia. No problems, though, I just kicked back, watched some movies with the missus, played some MVP Baseball 2005, and got drunk on my own terms.
I've been working my way through the Ommegang family of ales, and decided to take a crack at Hennepin this weekend. It was nice, slighter lighter than Ommegang, but not as Ommegang Witte. I'd rank it alongside Rare Vos, ahead of the Witte, but below Ommegang and my personal favorite, Three Philosophers.
I'll start drinking real Belgian ale once they cheapen up the price a bit.
If you're interested in learning more about these crazy mixed-up beers that'll get you, like, totally fucked up, go read Beer Advocate.
content free movie reviews
The Yes Men: good
Sin City: pretty good, but disappointing
Ocean's Twelve: perfectly acceptable
that movie where Rosie O'Donnell was retarded: five greatest minutes of television I've ever watched
The In-Laws (2003) [seen on a bus between Chichen Itza and Playa del Carmen]: not as bad as I expected, but not good
Elektra: cockspume
The Incredibles [for the second time, on a plane, without headphnes]: maybe the finest film at this decade's halfway point?
The Yes Men: good
Sin City: pretty good, but disappointing
Ocean's Twelve: perfectly acceptable
that movie where Rosie O'Donnell was retarded: five greatest minutes of television I've ever watched
The In-Laws (2003) [seen on a bus between Chichen Itza and Playa del Carmen]: not as bad as I expected, but not good
Elektra: cockspume
The Incredibles [for the second time, on a plane, without headphnes]: maybe the finest film at this decade's halfway point?
