tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20808335205184988752024-03-05T00:09:16.005-08:00In my humble opinionSally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-66808237800959343552011-06-07T15:25:00.000-07:002011-06-09T09:14:07.776-07:00Modern Mystery Blog Archives #12: Valleys<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6WR2RuJ8AUsGHgqBXQoxdiHfsLfLwLDKdMhGFMP8rZ2-WPKb1l45nWBvQ9spWmCj150AvAyywWM1UyOmqERgZsxlVlQ6XvAaxbBstUiM0udV4m-tSk-Hmc4fI7DpN9YBEFO1-6JRVw-Q/s1600/valleys.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6WR2RuJ8AUsGHgqBXQoxdiHfsLfLwLDKdMhGFMP8rZ2-WPKb1l45nWBvQ9spWmCj150AvAyywWM1UyOmqERgZsxlVlQ6XvAaxbBstUiM0udV4m-tSk-Hmc4fI7DpN9YBEFO1-6JRVw-Q/s400/valleys.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615608131251414498" /></a><br />
The cover of Valleys’ newest release, <span style="font-style:italic;">Stoner EP</span>, is well suited to the mood of this three song spell: an image of tainted youth in the form of a young girl painted with Day of the Dead-like makeup. The music is dark and eerie, almost Wiccan, while retaining some sweetness with the celestial, soothing female vocals best showcased on “Ordinary Dream.”<br />
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As with the other songs on the EP, the soft vocals are offset by aggressive guitar and drums made jagged by the fuzzy feedback and reverb. This track is appropriately titled as it is deliciously dreamlike with lyrics like “your eyes are steadfast” that melt into the song.<br />
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“Ten Thousand Hours” begins with rumbling drums and a steady keyboard line that leads into static and noise as the introduction to the screaming of upset male vocals. In comes a feedback solo that seriously lasts several minutes, during which the mind wanders from the song until it is lured back in by the keys and reminded that there is actual music here. As soon as that happens, the song has come to an end.<br />
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“The Cold Cold Skinny” starts with ominous xylophone and co-ed voices singing in unison, with a regimented rhythm that sounds like a chant. Distressed electric guitar in conjunction with shrill, tense keys becomes a piece for a scene in a horror film, made complete with the creepy lyric “Walk into the evening with your cold, cold skinny legs.”<br />
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These three songs strategically serve as a tease or a taste, rather, to what this band may be all about, but more must be heard to discover what that really is. From <span style="font-style:italic;">Stoner EP</span>, we get experimental rock, sultry feminine vocals and lyrics with cryptic imagery.<br />
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As seen on the dreamy <a href="www.modernmysteryblog.com">Modern Mystery Blog</a>: <a href="http://modernmysteryblog.com/2011/01/03/album-review-%E2%80%93-valleys-stoner-ep/">ORIGINAL LINK</a>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-41782128310365839032011-06-07T15:01:00.000-07:002011-06-07T15:23:14.600-07:00Modern Mystery Blog Archives #11: USF<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUw3wX35j7KFkyuooV265H2thURc52whT4pby0wzHX-grpat0HTSeTjneBWILAksRnRJLF1YoePIM4B7h2sLODVkZxRC5DoiWFzaAV_6IICmjfvTye01kphvLdFaLhz6WIGhGJ-JrsId8/s1600/usf.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUw3wX35j7KFkyuooV265H2thURc52whT4pby0wzHX-grpat0HTSeTjneBWILAksRnRJLF1YoePIM4B7h2sLODVkZxRC5DoiWFzaAV_6IICmjfvTye01kphvLdFaLhz6WIGhGJ-JrsId8/s320/usf.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615604886757776610" /></a><br />Male duo U.S.F. on Seattle label Highfives and Handshakes has crafted an aquatic club album, <span style="font-style:italic;">Jamaica Plain EP</span> released on February 8 of this year.<br /><br />“Point Break II,” whether or not is alluding to a sequel in song of the 90’s Keanu surf hit, or the reference just conjures images of surfing, but I can’t help but seeing the tops of waves arch over a surfer’s head as he/she cuts through them while this song plays.<br /><br />The title track is a wonderful ADD reflection on multilayered synth with club beats, delicate melodies and psychedelia. At first the track submerges underwater through a submarine ride of muffled wave and calming electronic effects, then forges upward into an epic stratosphere of sound. The sudden change of pace goes from chilled out oceanic grooves to heightened synth and booming bass drum determination, ending in a euphoric catharsis. It is truly a story told in sonic tropes.<br /><br />“Greywolf” is one of two tracks with any vocals, and they function as a fuzzy, Thurston Moore inspired dictation.<br /><br />All four tracks including “Branss” which has a M.I.A. base dance beat and helium infused sporadic vocals are all heady ambient pieces that make for an interesting EP that piques many moods.<br /><iframe width="400" height="100" style="position: relative; display: block; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/album=2173951373/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=4285BB/" allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0"><a href="http://usftheband.bandcamp.com/album/jamaica-plain-ep">Jamaica Plain EP by USF</a></iframe><br />As seen on the exotic <a href="www.modernmysteryblog.com">Modern Mystery Blog</a>: <a href="http://modernmysteryblog.com/2011/02/04/usfs-new-album-jamaica-plain-ep-releases-new-album/">ORIGINAL LINK</a>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-61312415741288477062011-06-07T14:49:00.000-07:002011-06-07T14:55:31.647-07:00Modern Mystery Blog Archives #10: HermesHermes, a group of young English chaps from the small town of Cirencester are fresh on the scene with a double A side, “Anyone Who Cares / More Love In Death” available on April 25.<br /><br />“Anyone Who Cares” shares upbeat instrumentation with self conscious lyrics like “I wouldn’t know the truth if it hit me/Wouldn’t know love until it bit me.” The synth line sparkles, the buildup to the chorus is adrenalin charging and everything culminates once the chorus sets in. The echoing backup vocals compliment the lead’s in this well rounded track.<br /><br />“More Love in Death” features steady, perfectly subtle drums - the driving beat throughout the song. The liberating message emphasized by the repeating lyric “You can let go,” is blanketed under a softer, more forlorn feeling evoked from the music and vocal style. “Anyone Who Cares” and “More Love in Death” are two distinct and significantly different tracks, when juxtaposed balance each other and show the range of capabilities from this young band.<br /><br />Judging from these new singles, Hermes sounds like they’d out on an awesome live show, so let’s hope they tour the US in the near future.<br /><object height="136" width="100%"><param name="movie" value="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Fplaylists%2F560546&g=1"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed allowscriptaccess="always" height="136" src="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Fplaylists%2F560546&g=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%"></embed></object><span><a href="http://soundcloud.com/sainted-pr/sets/hermes-anyone-who-cares-more">hermes - Anyone Who Cares/More Love in Death</a> by <a href="http://soundcloud.com/sainted-pr">Sainted PR</a></span><br />As seen on the jolly good <a href="www.modernmysteryblog.com">Modern Mystery Blog</a>: <a href="http://modernmysteryblog.com/2011/04/04/hermes-release-two-new-singles-in-april/">ORIGINAL LINK</a>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-79680535249580357762011-06-07T14:43:00.000-07:002011-06-07T15:36:25.683-07:00Modern Mystery Blog Archives #9: Idiot Glee<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZMsGLFGdg6rmczVCNmxhbTRH2IMWU5ZgMYUX3-xLB2DvFMiSW_z1FlwLMq0ODSeiWV1prBQAHb7u1xQeSlsj0t9N4inKSCZO0xbnJN_YwYmF3Q7mPtDIr0ho4e5KlVEbQBng6aFrWEZ0/s1600/ldiot+Glee.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZMsGLFGdg6rmczVCNmxhbTRH2IMWU5ZgMYUX3-xLB2DvFMiSW_z1FlwLMq0ODSeiWV1prBQAHb7u1xQeSlsj0t9N4inKSCZO0xbnJN_YwYmF3Q7mPtDIr0ho4e5KlVEbQBng6aFrWEZ0/s320/ldiot+Glee.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615597066506988194" /></a>Idiot Glee’s (AKA James Friley) tour is underway promoting his first LP, <span style="font-style:italic;">Paddywhack</span> to be released on June 7.<br /><br />“Happy Day” which can be downloaded on <a href="http://www.daytrotter.com/dt/idiot-glee-concert/20031173-3738313.html">Daytrotter</a> along with other Idiot Glee songs shows us an artist who sings knowingly about about, well, not so happy days but the 60s California vocal style, the sleepy yet jaunty keyboard lines and even a “Bohemian Rhapsody” reference slipped in suggest some latent brighter sides beneath the dark in which he sings. The effective vocal looping and double tracking beefs up the somewhat minimal one man show involving just his voice and electronics, which on their own are already substantial, especially the former element.<br /><br />Friley’s rendition of Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine,” is fantastically creepy, avant-garde and respectfully soulful. Based on the few recorded treats he presently has available, <span style="font-style:italic;">Paddywhack</span> should prove to be an interesting and pleasant surprise. Idiot Glee will be performing at SXSW March 16-18 in between upcoming shows around the South and the Gulf Coast. <br /><br />As seen on the electric <a href="www.modernmysteryblog.com">Modern Mystery Blog</a>: <a href="http://modernmysteryblog.com/2011/03/17/idiot-glee-on-tour-soon/">ORIGINAL LINK</a>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-20438790932416725902011-06-07T13:55:00.000-07:002011-06-09T09:17:08.739-07:00Modern Mystery Blog Archives #8: Girls<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji0iLBL7_NT5o-QNxCisEnKcRWR3uAjRdxJpnNh29miwMoA1zbC9mZeu-GK9nP2LY9wWD-fFhva5LLIbywYON2DOZkXh8i2KaNsz_g6PrnsoeXQRJNYxEjFJ4oCb_wn9bjoSTD_runcpY/s1600/bdc.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 396px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji0iLBL7_NT5o-QNxCisEnKcRWR3uAjRdxJpnNh29miwMoA1zbC9mZeu-GK9nP2LY9wWD-fFhva5LLIbywYON2DOZkXh8i2KaNsz_g6PrnsoeXQRJNYxEjFJ4oCb_wn9bjoSTD_runcpY/s400/bdc.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615586742105288546" /></a><br />
On the <a href="http://www.truepanther.com/">True Panther Sounds</a> record label website, a love letter written by label member Christopher Owens is published. Owens and Chet “JR” White are the two California boys who make up Girls. The letter’s subject is you and me: the fans. His confession that without us, their fantastic new EP, <span style="font-style:italic;">Broken Dreams Club</span> wouldn’t exist is oozing with sincerity and endearment to a surprising and delightful degree, for I fear we are the ones who should be thanking them.<br />
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The EP begins with “Thee Oh So Protective One,” an almost loungey, luxurious cruise ship dance tune. It has the kind of sound meant to be played on or by water, begging for a steel drum to make a cameo, but Girls know better than to ham it up that far. In all seriousness, it’s a well dichotomized song with an easy, rich and full sound with brilliant, almost majestic trumpet incorporation but then sad and unfortunate lyrics: “He’ll never know about the times that you cried in the movies, never know about the times that you cried to the music” and insecure reflections: “I wonder if he’s impressed/Should I have worn the other dress?” This first track is also a great introduction to Owen’s classic vocal style, conjuring that of Burt Bacharach.<br />
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White’s bass skills really shine through on “Heartbreaker.” The bass drives the song and adds an extra level of cool to this already radical song. It’s full of charm from the groovy, playful vocals, expert bass, innocent and earnest piano, 80s electric guitar riffs to the light, twinkly tambourine. This well polished song exhibits professional production and a band who means serious business, as far as quality is concerned.<br />
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There’s a significant country influence on the title track and on fittingly titled “Carolina,” the former with a somber blues tone actually quite in line with Bright Eyes’ <i>I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning</i>. The muffled, raunchy horns add a nice ragtime jazz touch. “Carolina” is much more experimental but still carries the twangy, drawling, country guitar featured on “Broken Dreams Club.” “Carolina” is a delicious pop dish with booming lines delivered a capella, an oldies “do run run run do do run run” refrain in the background and trippy electronic effects.<br />
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“Substance,” if you couldn’t guess from the title, is about drugs: “If you want to shape your brain, I know a substance…that helps you rock and roll.” Ironically enough, it seems to be an anti-drug anthem mocking drug users and their absurd habits, and based on their West Coast, partially ex-hippie cult background (Owens hails from the Children of God cult – or movement – spawned during the 60s California drug phase), are probably mocking themselves: “You can do anything yeah, you can rock and roll outta control/Who wants something real when you could have nothing/Why not just give up, who wants to try.”<br />
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This record is buoyant, a little kitschy, and varied in styles. If you’re not already one of the addressees of Owens’ letter, listen to the <span style="font-style:italic;">Broken Dreams EP</span> immediately and find out what you’ll soon to be gushing over.<br />
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As seen on the girly <a href="www.modernmysteryblog.com">Modern Mystery Blog</a>: <a href="http://modernmysteryblog.com/2010/12/11/album-review-girls-%E2%80%93-broken-dreams-club-ep/">ORIGINAL LINK</a>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-25295961889849030262011-06-07T11:57:00.000-07:002011-06-09T09:22:33.344-07:00Modern Mystery Blog Archives #7: Empress Hotel<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVc2_ucx1KLhlOIrNGkV3zy4VN4VGsV9ugggpNwP5DbFpEBQR-EXU4UlakHet6VVwfD6zJ_xnMSpAisXkSFxTQLq0xV_skGJZ_5145hK8xe5y5DKWQqS5m2ZFFoyNZUIBPahLEiG9h-sc/s1600/empress.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVc2_ucx1KLhlOIrNGkV3zy4VN4VGsV9ugggpNwP5DbFpEBQR-EXU4UlakHet6VVwfD6zJ_xnMSpAisXkSFxTQLq0xV_skGJZ_5145hK8xe5y5DKWQqS5m2ZFFoyNZUIBPahLEiG9h-sc/s320/empress.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615558610696558050" /></a>Right now is a really exciting time for pop and rock music in New Orleans and Empress Hotel is a prime example. The group comprised of six young yet seasoned musicians is an offshoot from other bands that came before it, fellow forgers of an indie movement in the Jazz capital of the world.<br />
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Brothers Ryan and Eric Rogers on guitar and drums as well as Leo DeJesus on precussion/synth/vocals come from popular bands on the younger generation’s radar in New Orleans, like Antenna Inn and The City Life among others, and lead singer/guitarist Micah McKee founded local favorite Silent Cinema in 2002 which can be held responsible for other spinoff bands from its members, like Big History – a sexy new electronic emphasized band. The main point being, anything coming from this group of guys (and girls: Julie Williams plays keys and sings for Empress Hotel) which also includes Portland transplant Patrick Hodgkins on bass is going to be good.<br />
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“Bells Ring” is their recently released single to be included on the self-titled debut EP slated to drop in March on <a href="http://www.parkthevan.com/home.php">Park the Van Records</a>. Whether it’s the shrill Cassio keys, the doo-woppy back up vocals or the lyrical imagery of not letting it (life?) pass by, the track instills a sense of nostalgia and envy all for an older era, childhood and even pastimes never experienced. <br />
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The drawn out, robust lead vocals that harken The Walkmen’s Hamilton Leithauser, the steady, momentous drums and the bells that ring through the chorus also give the song a triumphant slant.<br />
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And don’t overlook “Here Comes the New Challenger” which can be found on the band’s <a href="http://www.myspace.com/empresshotel">Myspace page</a>. The song is utterly cool with a Who-esque synth intro, inebriating lyrics and McKee and Williams’ vocal harmonies that are beyond charming. <br />
<object height="81" width="100%"> <param name="movie" value="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F16705494%3Fsecret_token%3Ds-RvAfB&secret_url=true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed allowscriptaccess="always" height="81" src="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F16705494%3Fsecret_token%3Ds-RvAfB&secret_url=true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%"></embed> </object> <span>Empress Hotel-Bells Ring[1] by <a href="http://soundcloud.com/smally-pockets">smally pockets</a></span> <br />
As seen on the excellent <a href="www.modernmysteryblog.com">Modern Mystery Blog</a>: <a href="http://modernmysteryblog.com/2011/01/14/empress-hotel-to-release-debut-ep/">ORIGINAL LINK</a>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-67572351163134697102011-06-07T11:26:00.000-07:002011-06-07T15:39:41.589-07:00Modern Mystery Blog Archives #6: Dawes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4IOo_s3p44lcv1YCZ0mcQ2T8dcfeZTJRb2hxFzwjqXRsK4DCo89Ziz_toLeYKRTeb8RtgDH9qArxqaFZAxv0SXmHKi1UW5ascOjxOUFng2zgcrAucAl6CCrZTBPwz_FRhjPmv7JcI5LE/s1600/dawes.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4IOo_s3p44lcv1YCZ0mcQ2T8dcfeZTJRb2hxFzwjqXRsK4DCo89Ziz_toLeYKRTeb8RtgDH9qArxqaFZAxv0SXmHKi1UW5ascOjxOUFng2zgcrAucAl6CCrZTBPwz_FRhjPmv7JcI5LE/s200/dawes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615551410932450594" /></a>It’s not hard to hear why “When My Time Comes” from Los Angeles band Dawes was chosen by one of the automobile industry’s leading brands, Chevrolet, to score their newest commercial. The single off their September 2009 released album <span style="font-style:italic;">North Hills</span>, named for the part of Los Angeles from which they hail, is a real solid, folksy narrative and one that seems to target the Chevrolet demographic.<br /><br />It’s got that blue collar pride and Springsteen spirit that accompanies all too well the Chevrolet truck and what it represents: The American Dream, more or less. The diffence between Dawes’ video of “When My Time Comes” and Chevrolet’s sampling is a shift in hope and progress over time. The band’s official video shows an early 20th Century impoverished and enslaved life as the band plays inmates shoveling dirt on the side of the road watched over by oppressive, Aviator-adorned cops, then they escape to a haven in the woods playing makeshift instruments in the form of pots for drums and an upright bass with one string.<object style="height: 390px; width: 640px"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HctNdDxXa-A?version=3"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HctNdDxXa-A?version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="390"></object>The Chevrolet commercial, using effective marketing, shows the modern American life using the truck as proof of endurance and invention ranging from everyday tasks to police missions and ending with a declarative motto: “This is how America gets work done.”<object style="height: 390px; width: 640px"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bJls9ijZ1u4?version=3"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bJls9ijZ1u4?version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="390"></object><br />As seen on the rugged <a href="www.modernmysteryblog.com">Modern Mystery Blog</a>: <a href="http://modernmysteryblog.com/2010/12/30/chevrolet-adopts-dawes%E2%80%99-%E2%80%9Cwhen-time-comes%E2%80%9D-for-commercial/">ORIGINAL LINK</a>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-52502235223530888282011-06-07T11:08:00.000-07:002011-06-07T15:42:26.578-07:00Modern Mystery Blog Archives #5: The Sword<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ZLnqk_vAhRqkZXtw-Ueoi7S6c26l_iSLdaC1XxTOencLMT64sB7Lk5GX4wKZrv8qJIQfhYo9fCiwPbuORsAzu1EOt8ppONEOOdhxyG5tVMUyHqHuo5EbWDo51WptMRSb_Tz0EoO1Mfg/s1600/sword.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ZLnqk_vAhRqkZXtw-Ueoi7S6c26l_iSLdaC1XxTOencLMT64sB7Lk5GX4wKZrv8qJIQfhYo9fCiwPbuORsAzu1EOt8ppONEOOdhxyG5tVMUyHqHuo5EbWDo51WptMRSb_Tz0EoO1Mfg/s320/sword.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615543480803705490" /></a>“Lawless Lands” is the second chapter in the epic tale of The Sword’s mystical travels from Earth to Space, called <span style="font-style:italic;">Warp Riders</span>, also the name of their latest album. “Lawless Lands” is the next installment after the first chapter, “Tres Brujas” or “Three Witches” in English. As one could surmise from the title, the Texas metal outfit in a haze of “sacred smoke” encounter three witches in “Tres Brujas,” the first of whom will “rob,” the second will “deceive,” and the third will “show you the way.”<br /><br />As a perfect segue, the third bruja shows The Sword the way into “Lawless Lands,” or outer space, as it turns out. “Lawless Lands” immediately takes a new musical tone from “Tres Brujas,” from epic to looming doom with the change of riffing, fast paced guitar to slower, more ominous bluesy rhythms. The video looks like a hodgepodge of old school sci-fi movies like Willow and The Dark Crystal with some Star Trek mixed in, centered around some chick who is part goth princess, part child empress from Never Ending Story.<br /><br />The Sword puts a fantasy twist on metal with “Lawless Lands” and the rest of <span style="font-style:italic;">Warp Riders</span> that is nothing short of totally awesome. The Sword is currently on an American tour for the release of <span style="font-style:italic;">Warp Riders</span> through mid December.<br /><object style="height: 390px; width: 640px"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5skCnxOMVOM?version=3"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5skCnxOMVOM?version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="390"></object><br />As seen on the mystical <a href="www.modernmysteryblog.com">Modern Mystery Blog</a>: <a href="http://modernmysteryblog.com/2010/12/09/the-sword-travels-to-lawless-lands-in-new-single/">ORIGINAL LINK</a>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-64028665133460013092011-06-07T10:59:00.000-07:002011-06-07T15:43:57.211-07:00Modern Mystery Blog Archives #4: No Joy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQM9nR-4Nm3os6gwYPeObs-yM9OM-4meUqcLTlede9VOYhFPWdui6Y0u4VcEPo7HNfZZR8W0gaRdBiC1z2Aw6ElDqBxN9yvelTfZxmuIMGi5P50wjQxZlq8P4mP4XRJWVPA4IzpPgYS2U/s1600/ghostblondes.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQM9nR-4Nm3os6gwYPeObs-yM9OM-4meUqcLTlede9VOYhFPWdui6Y0u4VcEPo7HNfZZR8W0gaRdBiC1z2Aw6ElDqBxN9yvelTfZxmuIMGi5P50wjQxZlq8P4mP4XRJWVPA4IzpPgYS2U/s400/ghostblondes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615540757541515394" /></a><br />The 90’s are back, girls and boys and I, for one, am pretty stoked about it. Laura Lloyd and Jasamine White-Gluz are the feminine forefront of the noise-fuzz-dream-rock band, No Joy. Their second album, <span style="font-style:italic;">Ghost Blonde</span> was just released on esteemed Brooklyn label, <a href="http://www.mexicansummer.com/">Mexican Summer</a> – host to buzz-worthy band Best Coast, among others – who picked up No Joy in less than a year after their conception.<br /><br />If you could pick out a song to be released as a single on the album, it would be the second track, “Heedless.” It’s driving and droning with plenty of feedback, distinct guitar melody and soft, silky, and sweet vocals a la The Breeders or Amber Valentine from Jucifer when she’s not shrieking. That pretty much goes for the rest of the album, as well. Their signature sound is largely due to a contrast between masculine, forward music and feminine, restrained vocals. It’s hard to make sense of the lyrics amid the sonic layers but one line from “Heedless” is discernable: “if you don’t care, then I don’t care,” adding to the grungy, submissive tone of this great song that could easily have been released in 1992.<br /><br />A lot of songs like “Maggie Says I Love You” start out with the slow buildup of static and dissonant guitar reminiscent of Sonic Youth that lead into echoey, drawn out vocals and persistent and repetitive percussion. Others like “You Girls Smoke Cigarettes?” are quick, loud and more varied musically, making for a song that’s easy to rock out to. Each song is about four minutes long on average, so you get the best of both worlds: progressive rock sensibility and pop rock length. This gives the listener just enough time to come up for air before plunging back in to the pool of noise laden with reverb and distortion.<br /><br />It might be assumed, for no other reason than their name, that No Joy is a sad, complaint-rock band, and even if traces of such mentalities are detected, they are in a purposeful and passive way. More than somber, <span style="font-style:italic;">Ghost Blonde</span> is a female driven record with balls that has sexy guitar riffs and vocals that knock you down and then float you away.<br /><br />As seen on the grungey <a href="www.modernmysteryblog.com">Modern Mystery Blog</a>: <a href="http://modernmysteryblog.com/2010/11/29/album-review-no-joy-ghost-blonde/">ORIGINAL LINK</a>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-89202693330501718152011-06-07T10:50:00.000-07:002011-06-09T09:27:12.693-07:00Modern Mystery Blog Archives #3: Birds + Batteries<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-DES9G9zdhdx8NLfxYJ1PUbmYYJO4kcrZL3jzmiXNE3Nb8Fv6RSnYsg3QxDkk49xnTMgP6iMSaWLFQGB0wBqms-jVZa-xL1fwkAuJXkYxufpuGyLVcuGalC_QxfSOtqNUxKuJNni_xg/s1600/birds_batteries.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-DES9G9zdhdx8NLfxYJ1PUbmYYJO4kcrZL3jzmiXNE3Nb8Fv6RSnYsg3QxDkk49xnTMgP6iMSaWLFQGB0wBqms-jVZa-xL1fwkAuJXkYxufpuGyLVcuGalC_QxfSOtqNUxKuJNni_xg/s320/birds_batteries.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615537384485650802" /></a>The new video for “We’re An Industry” by the San Francisco band Birds & Batteries conveys a lot using just some metal and other hard materials employed by the method of stop motion. The video was carefully crafted by the Made By Cabbage Head production company who designed the set by hand and filmed frame by frame.<br />
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The protagonists of this video – seeming like more of a short film – are two steel wool people placed in a desolate, industrial setting with pipes, coils and other constructional components who discover they create sparks when touching together.<br />
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The song itself is a lamentation of belonging to the center of the earth with lyrics describing baring the burden of causing natural disasters under rough and hot conditions, sorrowful strings and mechanical, almost militaristic drums.<br />
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Then, the instrumentation becomes looser and builds up with the percussion quickening and the vocals all the sudden taking a new, proud tone. Greenery begins to grow up the metal structures and flower as the vocals harmonize and reach higher notes and the two steel wool characters look on, sparking hand-in-hand. By the end of it, you are left with a beautiful, resolved feeling.<br />
<iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/15017110?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" width="400" height="225" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/15017110">Birds & Batteries- We're an Industry</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/birdsbatteries">Birds & Batteries</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><br />
As seen on the artisanal <a href="www.modernmysteryblog.com">Modern Mystery Blog</a>: <a href="http://modernmysteryblog.com/2010/11/24/birds-batteries-release-new-video/">ORIGINAL LINK</a>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-75911317444820692542011-06-07T10:44:00.000-07:002011-06-09T09:30:00.141-07:00Modern Mystery Blog Archives #2: Radio Dept.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0WE3m4044ej_s0NsQBFDA234fFXWvJ031Np7XWzeajn_lmrumeTxfy6xXS3tvI_IqEJ9iShSuTwAjQCkqJa5EvahbQ4Y-Y4b02BVZNepX3GbghLggt3FeVtrRqQr67LDuo2rOnDxXas/s1600/radio.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 195px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0WE3m4044ej_s0NsQBFDA234fFXWvJ031Np7XWzeajn_lmrumeTxfy6xXS3tvI_IqEJ9iShSuTwAjQCkqJa5EvahbQ4Y-Y4b02BVZNepX3GbghLggt3FeVtrRqQr67LDuo2rOnDxXas/s320/radio.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615535998396081522" /></a>The Radio Department comes out with a selection of their latest (of the past eight years) and greatest (of those eight years) work: <span style="font-style:italic;">Passive Aggressive: Singles 2002-2010</span> for release on January 25th, 2011.<br />
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This “best hits” compilation of sorts of at least their time thus far with <a href="http://www.labrador.se/indexn.php3">Labrador Records</a> is complete with a double disk and some B-sides and rarities mixed in. The Swedish indie label is boding this release as a result of the success of their best selling band. Such success does not come without its obstacles, however. The Radio Department are undoubtedly rock stars, but hesitant – or at least coy – ones at that. Considering their popularity, it seems strange that they have consistently been hesitant to sign contracts, expose themselves to the media and generally skeptical of their acceptance by fans, critics and the rest of the musical community they – whether or not they believe they do or should – belong to.<br />
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Until their tour of said album, satiate your need for The Radio Department with the dream-pop track “Never Swallow Fruit” off their just released EP, <span style="font-style:italic;">Never Follow Suit</span>, accompanied perhaps by a candle lit room with an uncontrolled drug of the green variety.<br />
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As seen on the rocking <a href="www.modernmysteryblog.com">Modern Mystery Blog</a>: <a href="http://modernmysteryblog.com/2010/11/23/radio-department-to-release-singles-compiliation/">ORIGINAL LINK</a>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-88765626429572698612011-06-07T09:45:00.000-07:002011-06-07T15:54:09.856-07:00Modern Mystery Blog Archives #1: Good Old War<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJv-ogp_snEOGASj7nsMCpoc3eiLDI0RgKGqgHz-cxzvN9md7h5xhQ3NuZv5gKe_O-SpsMuFzckEMuiixHTMgFo6dTMNABx9t_rh2wm7RPP9RespM9ipj8J61XhGyEPGSfs82vnIb8ncI/s1600/gow.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJv-ogp_snEOGASj7nsMCpoc3eiLDI0RgKGqgHz-cxzvN9md7h5xhQ3NuZv5gKe_O-SpsMuFzckEMuiixHTMgFo6dTMNABx9t_rh2wm7RPP9RespM9ipj8J61XhGyEPGSfs82vnIb8ncI/s200/gow.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615521443335375906" /></a>The Pennsylvania indie-folk male trio, Good Old War, follows up their debut album <span style="font-style:italic;">Only Way to be Alone</span> with the self titled offering featuring a music video from the single “That’s Some Dream.”<br /><br />The dream, the song and the video all hold a simple theme: living, dying, and being alright with both. The video tells the story of a self discovering journey with like-minded companions. In this case, the journey is a tour and the companions are band mates, and it’s as straightforward as it is poignant.<br /><br />It’s damn hooky and with a little Paul Simon inspired non-lyrical vocal addition to the chorus (you’ll have to listen to hear what I mean), the song is so damn likeable that you’ll be listening to it more than once in a sitting. As far as the video journal that is the accompanying music video, the personal and endearing nature will make you feel all warm inside.<br /><object style="height: 390px; width: 640px"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HgdxlhbwBPo?version=3"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HgdxlhbwBPo?version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="390"></object><br />As seen on the wholesome <a href="www.modernmysteryblog.com">Modern Mystery Blog</a>: <a href="http://modernmysteryblog.com/2010/11/18/the-good-old-war-release-video-for-thats-some-dream/">ORIGINAL LINK</a>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-52142653068090240452010-07-25T15:03:00.000-07:002010-07-25T15:18:49.067-07:00The Walkmen are Stranded<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwv15mKOYHfviA9krASZIzfhnWn9p5IDMLqXFppsIDnTYPoiEU3nEdFdnG-s552NkHvnQIfZqvR8dgN_-aXgSJx_L_OEApyV4Yq83hx8ncgA2Z3eKKZ7hoD6Ihyxzi46YBb-6hUXeKeE8/s1600/lisbon.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 178px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwv15mKOYHfviA9krASZIzfhnWn9p5IDMLqXFppsIDnTYPoiEU3nEdFdnG-s552NkHvnQIfZqvR8dgN_-aXgSJx_L_OEApyV4Yq83hx8ncgA2Z3eKKZ7hoD6Ihyxzi46YBb-6hUXeKeE8/s200/lisbon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497970536727770498" /></a>The Walkmen have instituted a horn section a number of times and in a number of ways before, but not quite like they have on “<a href="http://www.npr.org/blogs/allsongs/2010/07/12/128463977/premiere-new-song-from-the-walkmen">Stranded</a>,” off their September slated album, <span style="font-style:italic;">Lisbon</span>. Their horns have been somber (“Red Moon”) or festive (“Louisiana”) but never this grand, and right from the beginning of the song. Assisting to the construction of this lofty start, the percussion steadily crescendos to a halt right before that scratchy, howling voice known all too well as frontman Hamilton Leithauser’s comes in. The earnest instrumental introduction to Leithauser’s flippant opening line: “Throw another dime in me, my friend/And I’ll sing a song I know for thee”— without regard to what jukebox tracks actually cost these days or that the chosen song will be anything but familiar — demonstrates the brilliant composition of this song. <br /><br />The impressive instrumentation contrasted with Leithauser’s when-it-rains-it-pours lamentations strategically and cleverly pokes fun at the self righteous and pitying tone of the lyrics, with lines like “I’m the bigger man here oh it’s true,” and “Oh why does the rain fall cold/When I’m stranded and starry-eyed.” This song is a comedic achievement as well, because as broken down as the lyrics are, you kind of want to laugh at the mess that is the poor chap singing them (or maybe that just goes for those of us with cruel senses of humor).<br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKjbzKuvqhfGIlkX-zE54noWwJC3vOySReze0cIxhWVtC4Uzu6IhdlCzytnH87PHO-vDFzPrPHTDpyVLc_rcvjl-0iRjPRYpANaWCsnjdPNhfbjAa9d97vV5im07yoUMpnD8JQIqXrsNU/s1600/walkmen.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 176px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKjbzKuvqhfGIlkX-zE54noWwJC3vOySReze0cIxhWVtC4Uzu6IhdlCzytnH87PHO-vDFzPrPHTDpyVLc_rcvjl-0iRjPRYpANaWCsnjdPNhfbjAa9d97vV5im07yoUMpnD8JQIqXrsNU/s320/walkmen.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497970316051472498" /></a><br />There’s been talk of a New Orleans inspiration on the album, and as far as this song is concerned, that could be reflected in the use of the horns which traditionally and currently are leading instruments in New Orleans music, as well as the images of broken glass, the concept of being stranded, and drunk and lonely friends who you can’t help but love anyway. Whatever the inspiration may be, “Stranded” is a triumph of a song, as a multifaceted ballad of sorts that is all smooth, powerful and tortured. <br /><br />A-<br /><br />Fat PossumSally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-54046350427801854102010-04-09T09:02:00.000-07:002010-04-09T09:12:22.303-07:00Dark Dark Dark was Bright Bright Bright at Union Pool<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-LEkjJnL3unJgoRaWAeEhy8BaWhX2PqN7C6bx6C3OQPEogcCwZ-yEJ72fJprYuvKgA_Phq80zHHlw4ggFm10v9uEpCSrTWweZXcFqhix-AG4gnhGBiwZiZlrDccqBkaSC2mQYg-i5Fs/s1600/ddd_5.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-LEkjJnL3unJgoRaWAeEhy8BaWhX2PqN7C6bx6C3OQPEogcCwZ-yEJ72fJprYuvKgA_Phq80zHHlw4ggFm10v9uEpCSrTWweZXcFqhix-AG4gnhGBiwZiZlrDccqBkaSC2mQYg-i5Fs/s400/ddd_5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458171169263548130" /></a>When Dark Dark Dark — hailing from Minneapolis, New York and New Orleans — settled themselves on stage at Union Pool, it seemed right that both the band and the audience were in the company of friends, whether they actually knew each other or not. With featured instruments like the accordion, banjo and cello and an early 20th Century railroad aesthetic, it was clear that these young musicians are of the bohemian order, not to be confused with fauxhemian — the new term recently dubbed by Gawker to replace hipster. These are true bohemians, credentialed by the fact that at least two members have a train hopping history and the music that comes out of them is that of undeniable artists.<br /><br />Directly outside the small venue in its own separate room away from the PBR and DJ fueled buzzing of the main bar was a packed outdoor patio, adding to the house show feel of the night. During the performances prior to DDD, a crowd gradually filled up the room, not a difficult feat for the speakeasy sized venue. But during Dan Beckman of Uke of Space Corners’ set and before DDD took the stage, stragglers from the patio quickly filed in, maxing out the space capacity. A “sold out” sign was promptly slapped on the entrance door, as much to the latecomers’ dismay.<br /><br />After the first song was played, front woman Nona Marie Invie adjusted the accordion, while keyboardist/vocalist/clarinetist/banjo player (really), Marshall LaCount explained, “Nona has to tie that thing together — it’s made out of string and wire.” The quick fix was probably due to a DIY way of life, which often produces creative and resourceful musicians.<br /><br />After the quintet — which also included a trumpet and drums — had something of a jam session toward the end of “Something For Myself,” Marshall jokingly commented “who knew you all would be listening to lounge folk music on a Friday night,” a pretty apt genre classification at the time. Nona confessed confusing a cheer from the crowd for an out of tune vocal, causing her a “momentary heart attack.” Marshall assured, “I think they like you,” and the crowd enthusiastically concurred with whistles and applause and someone said “absolutely beautiful,” referring to the set so far, and that person was right.<br /><br />Bright Bright Bright, their new EP with songs exuding a new found resiliency could very well be a response to both the band name and their dismal last record, The Snow Magic. Nona’s lyrics, “Don’t pull me in/Let me be” on “Something For Myself,” fend off a former lover and proclaim her independence, in the more subdued vein of Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive.”<br /><br />“Make Time” is a triumphant seafaring tale carried by foot-tapping, upbeat banjo about a boat made of lightning and diamonds just to prove “the impossible possible.” As the band sang in unison, “The time that you thought you saved is just gone/We’ll make time where there is none,” the theme of hope sailed to land.<br /><br />Nona’s band mates took a knee and all bowed their heads with their eyes closed in a prayer like pose as she performed the painfully beautiful “Wild Goose Chase,” showcasing her mature voice and quite accomplished keyboarding skills. The lights dimmed to suit the mood of this vagabond ballad.<br /><br />DDD is part of a special musical community derived from an on the road, neo-beatnik, scraping by existence which lives to make honest and personal folk music, often of the freak variety. Another band included in this group are DDD’s contemporaries, Hurray For the Riff Raff (who DDD trumpeter/accordionist Walt McClements also contributes to), likewise from New Orleans who are starting to build up a powerful presence within and outside this family of musicians. They play for their instruments, which they show great affection for in their performances. Watching Walt, you could see his hands making love to the accordion, and the sound was just as impassioned and moving.<br /><br />After they played their last song, the crowd all screamed for an encore and one fan sent a request via paper airplane to Nona to which she responded “we’re not prepared to play that” but instead played for us the second part to “Wild Goose Chase,” and we were the first lucky ones to ever hear the song played live. Nona told us “no one’s heard this yet so it’s a special occasion,” and a special occasion indeed it was.<br /><br />DDD is in the middle of an East Coast/Mid West tour right now that started at SXSW.Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-18688253895474375302010-03-11T13:11:00.000-08:002010-07-25T11:36:55.344-07:00Marley and Me: NOT a family film!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQa_hjsjBLCW_sdgkieo0aUv-Tp4MWpBF3h9iY3PQ4V_zfKsODtnfXGld3zjTJxI_9BgnZHFByrpR_5WhqrKvq8bGcZmDC6nvc1SU5MEOynCVXpRfBTMrHOMYhm4its9-16YNFHj7oGwI/s1600-h/marley-and-me-poster.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQa_hjsjBLCW_sdgkieo0aUv-Tp4MWpBF3h9iY3PQ4V_zfKsODtnfXGld3zjTJxI_9BgnZHFByrpR_5WhqrKvq8bGcZmDC6nvc1SU5MEOynCVXpRfBTMrHOMYhm4its9-16YNFHj7oGwI/s320/marley-and-me-poster.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447506447024770770" /></a>I realize I'm more than a year late commenting on David Frankel's 2008 adaptation of best-selling memoir, Marley and Me, but to confirm: this is not a review. This is a warning. <br /><br />On a rainy day not too long ago, I resulted to movie watching on the couch. As the premium channel and On Demand selection was meager, I decided on Marley and Me as a low investment, blissfully uncomplicated, feel good pet movie. After all, one of my greatest loves in life is the canine species. Well, friends, this movie isn't at all for dog lovers. Quite the contrary, in fact. If you hate dogs so much to the point that you bask in the joy of witnessing their painful demise - then by all means - treat yourself to this film. For the remaining majority of soul possessing humans, I discourage you.<br /><br />After the first scene showing the marriage of Marley's soon-to-be parents - John (Owen Wilson) and Jenny (Jennifer Aniston) - R.E.M.'s <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCQ0vDAbF7s">"Shiny Happy People"</a> plays over the opening credits. Frankel sure has one sick sense of humor. The idealist, nearly painfully cheery song is used in this film as nothing more than a tool of cruel, low-down irony. <br /><br />The rest of the film is a parade of disgust and horror. Critics' proclamation that it's a <a href="http://www.newser.com/story/46231/bring-tissues-for-marley-me.html">nice holiday or family film</a> is a sore misinterpretation. *SPOILER ALERT* For three fourths of the movie, the viewer gets acquainted with hell raiser Marley, grows to love him just as John and Jenny do, then in the last 30 minutes are assaulted with a hopeless, drawn out deterioration of the clueless and sweet Labrador leading up to his graphic death. As if the mere concept of putting an animal down when it comes his time isn't traumatic enough, they display the lethal injection on screen. PARENTS: DO NOT LET YOUR CHILD SEE THIS FILM. I REPEAT: THIS FILM IS NOT FOR CHILDREN. <br /><br />As someone who is usually more distraught seeing an animal die in a film or reading about it in a book more than a human, I'd just assume do away with such stories all together. Marley and Me will join Old Yeller and Where the Red Fern Grows on my personal list of banned movies/books. Okay, not really, but anyone else who seeks any of them out will be adequately warned. <br /><br />I implore the MPAA to reconsider the PG rating of this film. I dare say Marley and Me is the saddest film since Sophie's Choice.Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-86977705381115929802010-01-28T20:46:00.001-08:002010-01-28T21:07:04.391-08:00From The Big Easy to the Big Apple: The Scatterbrained Diaries, Volume 2After a brief scare that I wouldn't be able to make the Strength Through Unity benefit for Haiti after discovering that online tickets were sold out, I laced up and walked the cool two blocks from my apartment to the Gowanus venue <a href="http://www.thebellhouseny.com/">The Bell House</a> ten minutes before doors opened. I was not the only one. There was already a line of about 30 people which more than tripled after five minutes of standing there. I thought surely they'll let me in. They have to, I only live two blocks away! But then again they might feel more sympathy for someone who came all the way from Jersey. But no matter, my fretting was relieved when they had plenty of tickets at the door. *phew*<br /><br />AND PHEW INDEED because the show kicked ass. And what a great thing that it was sold out because all the proceeds go to Haiti earthquake victims. They reportedly raised $35,000. Not too shabby. So here's the rundown:<br /><br />Eugene Mirman was the host with the most (you know, you know). Some might know him as the landlord on Flight of the Conchords. He appeared effortlessly funny and made a hilarious spoof of the Microsoft "diversity" commercial, throwing himself in the mix as the token outspoken white guy from Brooklyn, pointing out the asinine absurdity of Microsoft's attempt at heartfelt marketing. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibtxn_qa7UgTYO_k0FyJnI1ZNgMO_82tju2SclJI1vP-z3aTUeo0ipcJQKzGCioUl2Sf3AVhHTMHmTeLjqTegHl6VLngRLAoVemQvTpUxcr535c6Ktq9K6rtmbM1clN9llMBVgO_9jEQQ/s1600-h/jimmy+fallon.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibtxn_qa7UgTYO_k0FyJnI1ZNgMO_82tju2SclJI1vP-z3aTUeo0ipcJQKzGCioUl2Sf3AVhHTMHmTeLjqTegHl6VLngRLAoVemQvTpUxcr535c6Ktq9K6rtmbM1clN9llMBVgO_9jEQQ/s320/jimmy+fallon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432019458577286194" /></a>Jimmy "I can't contain my laughter for shit" Fallon made an appearance as Neil Young and sang the Fresh Prince of Bell Air song to the tune of "Heart of Gold." Totally amazing. His impersonation was uncanny. He sure has the whole Weird Al vibe down, but a little less weird and a little more hip. <br /><br />I'll just cut to the chase here - my favorite act by far was <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/goingson/2009/11/lauren-ambrose-joes-pub.html">Lauren Ambrose and the Leisure Class</a>, maybe because their New Orleans style gypsy jazz reminded me of home. They were fantastic and Lauren sang the crap out of those songs. I particularly enjoyed the hyper jazzed Bob Dylan cover. I would say which song it was except I can't currently recall. They said ALL proceeds go to Haiti which I assumed meant drink sales as well, so I obviously had to contribute as much as I could. You understand. If it's even possible, my girl crush on Lauren Ambrose has just grown stronger. <br /><br />Other notable performances came from The Wrens who played a really satisfying rock set, slowly building up and then driving home each song. Then there was The Walkmen who closed it out with a filling brass quintet accompaniment of four trumpets and one trombone. And the appearance by Pat Kiernan, the man who gives New Yorkers their morning news each day on the local channel <a href="http://www.ny1.com/1-all-boroughs-news-content/top_stories/">New York One</a> was a real treat. He hosted trivia and reminded us to keep Haiti in our minds and do whatever we can to help them out. <br /><br />As a Katrina evacuee and die hard New Orleanian, I can certainly empathize with the devastating Port au Prince tragedy. I was lucky enough to not have my house flooded and evacuate safely during Katrina but I've heard enough stories about the poor souls in the Superdome waiting without basic human essentials like food and water to know that the people in Haiti need fast and concentrated attention.Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-27986120702760138392010-01-27T12:58:00.000-08:002010-01-27T13:07:59.946-08:00From The Big Easy to the Big Apple: The Scatterbrained Diaries, Volume 1So I live in New York now. Have been for a few months. It’s taken me this much time to take it all in before I make any documentation (oh, how I can justify procrastination…). Some might say I made an odd and curious decision migrating here when I did. The economy is a mess and New York, though as an economic epicenter — what with Wall Street (<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/26/business/26markets.html?dbk">for better or worse</a>) and the country’s highest commercial activity — isn’t a budget friendly place for the less than top ten percent income earners (me and a bunch of other folks). <br /><br />But I see every day those less fortunate than me (i.e. people without family and friends willing to “invest” in their future while they remain unemployed) walking the streets and riding the subway somehow making it. Their tired faces suggest they work the harder end of the daily grind, or maybe it’s just that down-to-business, no nonsense New York manner. Anyway, the point is, if there’s that many dream chasers other than myself out there putting in the time, then New York has got to deliver. I mean, obviously. This is the city of opportunity and inevitably of course, competition. Like Jay-Z and probably a lot of other people before him said, “If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere.” So, there you have a babbled response to those who think I’m wack for moving here during one of the greatest economic recessions ever. <br /><br />I came from New Orleans which by all intrinsic measures is pretty much the opposite of New York. New Orleanians lack a certain focus that New Yorkers have. Unless that focus is all put into getting to Happy Hour, which in New Orleans isn’t at all a designated or limited period of time. People there are so lovesick with life and everyone they meet that they are by nature easily distracted. When New Yorkers start a job they finish it and in a swift fashion so they can promptly experience its benefits. New Orleanians would rather have fun while doing the job than be restricted to just having fun after the job is done. New Yorkers are more long term oriented and New Orleanians are more right now oriented. And right now in New Orleans it’s all about the Saints. The unthinkable has been accomplished. <a href="http://www.nola.com/saints/index.ssf/2010/01/nfc_championship_game_new_orle_3.html">THE SAINTS ARE GOING TO THE SUPERBOWL</a>. I know not one Saints fan present in the Dome or watching intently on their couch that didn’t cry when Garret Hartley kicked that winning field goal in overtime play. I’ve never been much of a football fan or even observer, but if something like that can lift up a troubled city to new heights, then I am a full fledged football endorser. But isn’t it just like the Universe to allow my adopted home to blow up just after I leave it for new, personally unchartered territory? What is that — Murphy’s Law or something? What am I saying? I’m just homesick, because New York is obviously blowing up at all times.<br /><br />And this is not to say I haven’t been enjoying some of New York’s own cultural delights here and there. Oh, no. Just the other day I was at The Met and saw some of the most mind blowing man made artifacts. I walked inside a huge structure — a tomb perhaps — crafted by Egyptians a whole lot of years ago. I also saw straight up super old school samurai swords and ancient Japanese warfare grade body armor. Those treasures in the company of Degas and Monet originals make The Met’s collection among the utmost impressive. <br /><br />I also visited The New York Public Library recently which debunked my idea of what a public library should be based on my previous public library going experience at more casual locations like New Orleans and my hometown, Athens, Georgia. This seemed more like a museum than a library, like an extension of The Met for books. I was afraid to touch some of their inventory, scared I would be escorted out of the building. There were security personnel everywhere in sight at this place. There was someone to check my bag (for explosives?) upon entering in the front, at each new wing of the library and upon exiting, as well as patrolmen just standing around waiting to spot any unruly patrons. All of the books I needed were available for library use only and not to check out so I left the huge, ornate beacon on Fifth Avenue and proceeded to the Barnes & Noble across the street. <br /><br />Well, friends, I’m signing off for now, but will regale you with further New York adventures. Cheers.Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-37295231894069068362009-07-27T14:06:00.000-07:002009-07-27T14:18:13.410-07:00White Noise: We're Doomed.A Broadway-bound production premiering in New Orleans dares its audience to deny the regime of hatred ever present in today’s society. Using American pop culture as an outlet to present its case, “White Noise” is an unconventional musical of the utmost disturbing kind. Its challenge lies in the extent to which its vision can be seen beyond the stage and consequently how resounding it really is. <br /><br />The story unfolds around a pop band of the play’s same title starring two sisters, Eva and Kady Sillers (MacKenzie Mauzy and Patti Murin). In the beginning, when White Noise’s new manager, Rick (Brandon Williams), who wants to make them Billboard stars describes them as “cute little Nazis,” he isn’t exaggerating. Their addictive choruses yet fascist lyrics are straight out of white supremacist propaganda. The tunes “Tragic,” “Do The Laundry” (in which a strangely upbeat demonstration of separating the whites from the colors is given), and the frighteningly catchy rap song “White Invention” all manage to stick in the head of anyone who hears them, immediately causing unease thereafter. <br /><br />No doubt Eva Sillers’ namesake is that of Eva Braun – Hitler’s mistress and consultant who stuck by his side till their fateful demise. As tiny as Mauzy is in frame and body mass, she’s tremendous in vocal volume and passionate bigotry. Her subscribed ideology is convincing as a shockingly blunt and blatant racist of all those excluded from the Caucasian persuasion. One of the creepiest aspects of Eva is that she’s exceptionally well spoken and driven in her cause, just as most sociopathic dictators tend to be (see Hitler, Stalin, Hussein). <br /><br />Though Mauzy turns out an intimidating and disconcerting performance, what’s considerably more horrifying is that her and Murin’s characters are based on real life tween Aryans. The seemingly innocent twin sisters are in a band called Prussian Blue. These golden-lock-adorned-milky-white-skinned twins are nothing more than ignorant hatred fueled neo-Nazis (or “White Separatists” as they’d like to be referred to), assumedly lead blind by their mother, as the Sillers sisters were by their mother, Laurel, in White Noise (Nancy Anderson who also offered a praise worthy, almost sympathetic and somber performance). In a “Good Morning America” edition featuring the twins, they said that for fun, they play a game called “dance around the swastika.” Ever tried hopscotch, Nazi freaks? <br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kFF7hVlqUeA&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kFF7hVlqUeA&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />Every facet of the production was of supreme craftsmanship, from the lighting to the stage-protected orchestra to the impressive performances of a relatively fresh, young batch of actors. White Noise is Patrick Murney’s first full scale production outside the confines of Syracuse University, where he received his BFA in acting. Murney plays Duke, Eva’s boyfriend and bassist of White Noise who might as well have been wearing an SS officer uniform. He was one of those characters you weren’t sure whether to clap or boo for his heinous portrayal during curtain call. <br /><br />White Noise should also be applauded in its bravery. Directors Mitchell Maxwell and Donald Byrd put a shameful, tea time taboo reality on display, restraining nothing from extremely derogatory terminology to bringing out in the open — to a desensitized degree — concepts such as lynchings. The themes demanded the audience to look inside themselves and their fellow humans to consider how much racism and hate prevail within both. <br /><br />With that being said, it was also an extremely pessimistic and discouraging outlook on society and society’s potential of tolerance. Everyone in the play was a villain and part of the perpetuating problem. It offered absolutely no hope for individual or general growth. This was White Noise’s aim yet downfall. It was a difficult piece of theater to swallow — uncomfortable and unpleasant. Hopefully the fact that it seemed a lost cause and that such monumental racism is inevitable was an example to its audience that such grim outcomes must be prevented.Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-52597426789838479192008-11-02T22:06:00.000-08:002008-11-03T09:40:36.104-08:00Athens Rockers Keep it Weird with "Dark Developments"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEu4ezdcg-iMx21kYSZRc0Ff8zxTb5SmhlU4jNpyRDiVuuHEIgtkg1VbCPcVCNNKJkoxI4MHyhlL0rbkWIyf4VkM2OEwLBUp5tsJkYLR4NHUZ9BYatpjJOORrr74Cm003J9Txo1bjIfO0/s1600-h/dark+developments.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 305px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEu4ezdcg-iMx21kYSZRc0Ff8zxTb5SmhlU4jNpyRDiVuuHEIgtkg1VbCPcVCNNKJkoxI4MHyhlL0rbkWIyf4VkM2OEwLBUp5tsJkYLR4NHUZ9BYatpjJOORrr74Cm003J9Txo1bjIfO0/s320/dark+developments.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264314333452841858" border="0" /></a>Vic<span style=""> </span>Chesnutt is the dark comedian of southern folk rock. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Athens</st1:city>, <st1:state st="on">Ga.</st1:state></st1:place> music veteran teamed up with the quirky Elephant 6 dream rockers, Elf Power and backing instrumentalists The Amorphous Strums who smooth Chesnutt’s typically rough edges, brightening the new album, “Dark Developments,” with twinkling xylophone and cheery back up vocals. Chesnutt proves to be a sneering lyricist with a mildly sick sense of humor, but a sense of humor nonetheless.<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The opening track, “Mystery,” sets the tone. Eerie yet beautiful, straightforward but nonsensical, from the wordless crooning to the sad proclamation of a void, the song is full of stimulating and stark contrasts, like a profound food and wine pairing. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">When “Little Fucker” opens up, you know it’s going to be a good rock song. The title is an apt representation of the attitude of the track: pissed off, dismissive and vindicated. The instrumentation follows suit with bellowing, descending bass introducing an aggressive electric guitar, and when Chesnutt drops the f-bomb, you can hear the satisfaction upon its landing.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The album isn’t all so brooding, with tracks like “And How” that are surprisingly bouncy but still remaining incredulous with a nice country guitar twang as the cherry on top. The choir of Elf Power in the background helps to uplift spirits as well. Their influence is partly manifested in some of the electronic experimentation, namely the spaced out synth on “Teddy Bear,” in refreshing juxtaposition to Chesnutt’s husky Tom Petty meets Leonard Cohen roar. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Chesnutt offers an excuse for their dreary disposition in “We Are Mean,” blaming the city for their bitterness: “In the country we are healthy/ In the city we are lean/ In the country we are smiling/ In the city we are mean” leading into the chorus with a reinforcing “We are mean!” shouted in the background. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">“Bilocating Dog” is the catchiest of tracks and misleadingly upbeat. Its tone is undercut with narrative lyrics fitting for a gothic fable about a not so fortunate dog. Chesnutt seems all too enthusiastic when singing about the poor dog’s fate. Perhaps his grim tendencies are the influence of spending too much — or just enough — time in the <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Georgia</st1:place></st1:country-region> woods.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style=""> </span>Chesnutt and friends can be counted on to please in a weird and uncomfortable kind of way, like a first kiss or learning to ride a bike. Channel your inner kook with “Dark Developments.” </p>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-29229907367755701452008-09-17T15:50:00.000-07:002010-03-10T12:33:38.089-08:00Share After Viewing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dancewithshadows.com/movies/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/burn-after-reading.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.dancewithshadows.com/movies/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/burn-after-reading.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> It’s a dog screw dog world in the Coen Brothers’ latest beast, <a href="http://www.burnafterreading.com--live.com/#/home">“Burn After Reading.”</a> The screwing is limitless and sloppy, whether in the form of sex or violence. The film’s style takes a cue from the Bros’ 1996 Midwestern winter murderland antics of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0116282/">“Fargo,”</a> merging comedy and thriller — because after all, there’s a fine line between hilarity and disaster, and the lead dunces stomp that line into the ground. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">John Malkovich who plays Osbourne Cox, a C.I.A. analyst who at the beginning is assumed to have a fairly high clearance level, is the first unfortunate character we see of this eclectic cast. The cast, admittedly, is a huge draw for this film. Who could resist the two aging heartthrobs, but more importantly consistently impressive George Clooney and Brad Pitt, and the commanding Francis McDormand and Tilda Swinton? </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">But oh, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000518/"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw0qgptXBl33s_eIARn-1QIMgV4mVbz9C-vWdIpOdEkHtUKOoAlZglsdyqX-NCPwwuIJwjkw1ip0_dOM0M2D_NQ_iOM0SAFiwaJbDuvpTQ2bemXMahhydBN1jGIy2QgMjLM5u7fWfdmDM/s1600-h/john+malcovich.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw0qgptXBl33s_eIARn-1QIMgV4mVbz9C-vWdIpOdEkHtUKOoAlZglsdyqX-NCPwwuIJwjkw1ip0_dOM0M2D_NQ_iOM0SAFiwaJbDuvpTQ2bemXMahhydBN1jGIy2QgMjLM5u7fWfdmDM/s320/john+malcovich.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247131597614458738" border="0" /></a>John Malkovich</a>, how I love thee. A Princeton alumnus, dressed quite sharply in an “I make way more money than you” suit, finished with a bowtie which just fucking makes the whole thing, he is self-righteous, entitled, and is generally a smug asshole. For Christsakes, he over-exaggerates the French pronunciation of American-adopted words like “memoir” and points out the necessity for their usage in the first place. For example, during his first encounter with Harry Pfarrer (Clooney), he corrects him — eyes rolling — that yes, that deplorably referred “goat cheese” is in fact <i>chevre</i>. He pays no attention to his own rude attitude because he really just doesn’t give a fuck and detests most people in general. This trait is especially unfortunate for the C.I.A. officials who fire him in the first scene of the movie.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">It should be noted that each character - Cox included - is a complete clueless idiot. Everyone, whether they realize it or not, gets way up in each other’s business by way of poorly plotted affairs and blackmail that inevitably straddles the verge of utter demise. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">In contrast to the high profile elitist lives of Osbourne and his hardass, disapproving wife, Katie (Swinton), and Harry Pfarrer who she’s sleeping with on the side, Linda Litzke (McDormand) and Chad Feldheimer (Pitt) are <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Hardbodies</st1:placename> <st1:placename st="on">Fitness</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Center</st1:placetype></st1:place> employees who instigate the deadly clusterfuck. They get a hold of a copy of Osbourne’s memoirs that were found on the gym's locker room floor that he began writing in lieu of a job, and mistake it for top-secret government documents. Linda is in search of money for multiple cosmetic surgery procedures and will go to any and all lengths to obtain it, considering these “documents” her golden ticket. <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Chad</st1:place></st1:country-region> is the overzealous, dim-witted, spandex-wearing workout enthusiast (and executes it beautifully) that is hopelessly loyal to his good friend and colleague, Linda. He is the willing and quite unfortunate pawn of their blackmail scheme. This sets off a series of threats, misguided spying and bloodshed when Osbourne tries to reclaim the supposed confidential information and the Russian Embassy, of all places, gets involved.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The culmination of this film is hysterically absurd and funny. Clooney mutilates a sex chair he built, complete with a mechanized thrusting dildo, most everyone has slept with and/or killed each other, and the final conversation between the head of the C.I.A. played by JK Simmons and the C.I.A. man who is handling the ordeal sums up the whole movie. The C.I.A. has kept a covert eye on the attention-begging actions of all the lead characters and when reflecting on the puzzling case, the superior asks the officer, </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">“Now what have we learned from all this?” </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">“Not to do it again, sir?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">“That’s right. I’ll be damned if I know what we did.”</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-30750450887991209972008-08-12T19:43:00.000-07:002008-08-12T20:20:28.843-07:00Vicky Cristina Barcelona: Sexy Smart Redemption<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFsOLttvzZsjcMv-QsUz317ge06OrfNc8I7NskdaENbVSWijrR9Xq8sbTKW9RIZva6xN-rDyxMgMfjBeSHwjDVYmV18wWjrkq2eKO2kKg_1Je_uuyR6H0lpDKc88OvmGxKypbkylpOuwU/s1600-h/vicky_cristina_barcelona1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFsOLttvzZsjcMv-QsUz317ge06OrfNc8I7NskdaENbVSWijrR9Xq8sbTKW9RIZva6xN-rDyxMgMfjBeSHwjDVYmV18wWjrkq2eKO2kKg_1Je_uuyR6H0lpDKc88OvmGxKypbkylpOuwU/s320/vicky_cristina_barcelona1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233830190873978546" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFqLv_8w3UCOreuwjIstjx7mlmsRqnu4Nvv7ssx9jHiof45feIJITyy7ClB7OXZfAnS48lI3VWgC80aKgdNlwUom9eInWeZAEF4IvYxLRxOh8KoLfAZ7WBpZyenZNUM8IhQGSeJNlExfk/s1600-h/penelope.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFqLv_8w3UCOreuwjIstjx7mlmsRqnu4Nvv7ssx9jHiof45feIJITyy7ClB7OXZfAnS48lI3VWgC80aKgdNlwUom9eInWeZAEF4IvYxLRxOh8KoLfAZ7WBpZyenZNUM8IhQGSeJNlExfk/s320/penelope.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233830190626571890" border="0" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Woody Allen proves his breadth and perseverance with his new film “Vicky Cristina Barcelona.” After cranking out nearly 50 films in over 40 years, a few judgment lapses have overturned some questionable projects but do not overshadow his accomplishments and certainly not his iconic reputation as a comedic, self indulgent (and deprecating), nerve-consumed filmmaker. His latest animal is a coherent, vibrant creature that revives any faltering messes before it, reassuring that given more chances to produce — which he obviously has no problem getting — he will retrieve his spot as one of the most influential film makers of our time.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>As the title alludes, <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Barcelona</st1:place></st1:City> is the gorgeous painting of a city that fosters and instigates the feverish romances that infiltrate the story’s characters, from minor to major. The two title characters, Vicky and Cristina (Rebecca Hall and Scarlett Johansson, respectively), two best friends who seemingly couldn’t be more different in their romantic desires and expectations, seek post-grad refuge in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Barcelona</st1:place></st1:City>. A mysterious and sexy but not handsome bohemian artist, Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem) swaggers into their lives to sex things up a bit, to say the least. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>Bardem’s Juan Antonio has a soothing quality, with his eyes and voice as the root sources followed by his coaxing way of controlling a situation, or attempting to. He approaches Vicky and Cristina in a restaurant after an art exhibit they all attended and without introduction, presumptuously invites them both on an excursion to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Oviedo</st1:place></st1:City> with scandalous intentions. Each woman’s response to his proposition are telling of their character. Cristina is intrigued, blushing and eager and Vicky is cold, insulting and repelled. Cristina finally persuades Vicky, an engaged woman, to join her and Juan Antonio to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Oviedo</st1:place></st1:City>, a small, quaint Spanish town. <span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>Vicky is refreshingly blunt, outspoken and affirmative. She psychoanalyzes Juan Antonio about his infamous relationship with his ex-wife, Maria Elena (Penelope Cruz), without regard to his feelings. She mercilessly expresses her distaste for Juan Antonio. Cristina, on the other hand, is attentive and charmed by his company and accepts his invitation to sleep with him, but demands that he seduce her first, in a little game of pretend naiveté. Although Vicky’s outer shell seems to be hard and impenetrable at first, her weaknesses shown early — like losing herself completely at the first pluck of Spanish guitar — are indicative of her eventual succumbing to Juan Antonio. <span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>A new chapter surely begins with the introduction of the feisty Maria Elena who comes back into Juan Antonio’s life after a suicide attempt. He takes his perhaps mentally ill ex-wife in after Cristina has moved in as his next leading lady, to further complicate matters. Penelope Cruz steals the show almost upon her first frame. Though Scarlett Johansson’s bombshell qualities are celebrated, and rightly so, she is no match for the older Spanish knockout whose eyes could pierce diamonds. Maria Elena is a torrential whirlwind disguised by a petite and exquisitely sultry frame. This could be —dare I say — Penelope Cruz’s best role yet, bringing hysterical energy as a highly creative and unstable artist whose actions and unchecked opinions also bring a substantial contribution to the film’s comedy. She of course is partial to the Spanish language, which angers Juan Antonio when she rudely continues to speak Spanish in front of the exclusively English speaking Cristina. Her first line in English spoken in that painfully cute accent is a request for Vodka upon her return from the hospital where she was fed meds. <span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>A recipe for a love triangle is ready with two unbelievably looking women, one the past lover of Juan Antonio and one the current, all residing under one roof. Other affairs and romantic scenarios take place outside of this one, concerning Vicky’s status with her WASPy fiancé and also Patricia Clarkson, who plays the woman hosting the two girls in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Barcelona</st1:place></st1:City>, with her marriage.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>Besides the quality of the acting, classic Woody Allen techniques are exercised to make the film the achievement that it is. Long, lingering camera close ups display the actors, showing favoritism to Johansson — Allen’s proclaimed muse. Violence is present in a surprising and wildly funny way and narration carries the plot with a collegiate-English lit-workshop-tone, appropriate for the graduate intellectualism of Vicky and Cristina.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>The fate of the characters is unclear and left to the viewer’s foresight, but are assumed to be reflective of their actions hitherto the ending. But as we all know, life is what you make of it and thus, unpredictable. This film is elaborately delightful. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">A-<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> <br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-64998372949294307922008-08-08T21:47:00.000-07:002008-08-08T22:05:19.231-07:00DEFEND CONEY ISLAND<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgmwqO01Vg-nhi-xZUOB3PSvGgNkMh9ZF-qwdDB2zOTvgIjIJbp65gO-pVQ8onP36aWxHts8yxfeFUhEB2-6_e2eTRHP8qo3uT2BV1h8e43okvxRhlYM9pAGnQZONs3HHR2zq4thudInI/s1600-h/DSC00823.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgmwqO01Vg-nhi-xZUOB3PSvGgNkMh9ZF-qwdDB2zOTvgIjIJbp65gO-pVQ8onP36aWxHts8yxfeFUhEB2-6_e2eTRHP8qo3uT2BV1h8e43okvxRhlYM9pAGnQZONs3HHR2zq4thudInI/s320/DSC00823.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232376242381593250" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKlM4hyYt-GxyiRC4QOJUjIemVQFJqL2aYvLvBRQMcsH9Nz85Mv7y0WZ40Y5Lin3BTpDdFOdbbs8Tr31ewBRU9TRYVZ8a5erfH8i82aMMAEs4aqPJNY8iFyMv7SNigsEL5CO2RqtCCZeM/s1600-h/DSC00817.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKlM4hyYt-GxyiRC4QOJUjIemVQFJqL2aYvLvBRQMcsH9Nz85Mv7y0WZ40Y5Lin3BTpDdFOdbbs8Tr31ewBRU9TRYVZ8a5erfH8i82aMMAEs4aqPJNY8iFyMv7SNigsEL5CO2RqtCCZeM/s320/DSC00817.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232376257534252626" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxeFqCfijotNhGfKZOJuQYpm-_AL-zKnqcxuwa2t_Xg5hCp_VKT4SxS_2vHtoKuafM7CLApXckdcVimywVGDKeVuyr-T3kU6PG2szuCcfiI9TJs5SiYdJCi9o5MqUFQS7W74lXtGGGxHM/s1600-h/DSC00837.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxeFqCfijotNhGfKZOJuQYpm-_AL-zKnqcxuwa2t_Xg5hCp_VKT4SxS_2vHtoKuafM7CLApXckdcVimywVGDKeVuyr-T3kU6PG2szuCcfiI9TJs5SiYdJCi9o5MqUFQS7W74lXtGGGxHM/s320/DSC00837.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232376274951050114" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh19smv8ab8Qy_grsfpuuzPxJAroR0lVbYhNe1Mop0kRtAvvdLtIvNsEia2M9lhnAL-J2tZYsg_s7OJQAoYYJ1oL5MxDAQhdkZxBzhVzV2Uwc_3VGQ6b8KWki3wjhEZAFJ7dYzuyIYMWs/s1600-h/DSC00838.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh19smv8ab8Qy_grsfpuuzPxJAroR0lVbYhNe1Mop0kRtAvvdLtIvNsEia2M9lhnAL-J2tZYsg_s7OJQAoYYJ1oL5MxDAQhdkZxBzhVzV2Uwc_3VGQ6b8KWki3wjhEZAFJ7dYzuyIYMWs/s320/DSC00838.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232376295291812930" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrfyTTMSYB-UuPtRgoEOwYssyAt_vbJ8lfRmW7b5rSoM-_OjkIoXL7Xn0cW8VokmiD6Eo17uHffXt6GVhxNA4XnLoJS4RJRX_3ZEc2b_B0c150cV6EMabsqW68Hr3lrL0CtEVbr5bvpKM/s1600-h/DSC00835.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrfyTTMSYB-UuPtRgoEOwYssyAt_vbJ8lfRmW7b5rSoM-_OjkIoXL7Xn0cW8VokmiD6Eo17uHffXt6GVhxNA4XnLoJS4RJRX_3ZEc2b_B0c150cV6EMabsqW68Hr3lrL0CtEVbr5bvpKM/s320/DSC00835.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232376309540338258" border="0" /></a><br /> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Why do the corporate moguls always have to crash the party of the proletariat? Coney Island is a cultural paradise where the young, the old, the fat and thin alike, the Russian and any other nationality can all intermingle and sing kumbayas of summertime, or any time for that matter. By 2011, it is expected to be completely transformed, and thus completely devoid of its intrinsic charm. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Big wig Joseph Sitt is the new starry-eyed owner with plans of destructing authenticity and erecting twenty first century enhancements in its stead. He plans to put in over two million dollars worth of high rise modern hotels, an indoor amusement park and retail stores not of the independent ilk, possibly sacrificing old trademark structures and establishments along the way.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The beloved metropolitan oasis is perfect for a local's one day gettaway or a more premeditated commuter's vacation. Its entire appeal is the dingy and feel-good vibe. A place where the working man can feel at home and uninhibited. The best part about the attraction is its frequenters. Several languages can be heard just walking down the boardwalk, and on the beach the tan and the beautiful frolic alongside the tacky and gluttonous. Kicks can be had whether they may be shooting the freak or targets in a wooden saloon setting. Tummies can be tousled on the Cyclone, a roller coaster still going after 80 years. The Wonder Wheel is the biggest Ferris wheel in the country.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Locals are hopeful — or perhaps in denial — of the park's preservation. A Brooklynite cafe clerk claims "they said it was going to change last year and nothing happened. They said last year was the end of the original <st1:place st="on">Coney Island</st1:place>. I don't think anything will really happen." The clerk went on to say her boss upon hearing of the potential tearing down of certain parts of the park and the plans of new sleek developments went to the annual mermaid parade last year dressed as a "mermaid in mourning," complete with a black mermaid suit and veil. This year, she returned with the same suit, but glamorized.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Here's hoping the new and flashy won't monopolize the humble and rickety for once. Leave <st1:place st="on">Coney Island</st1:place> alone in all its glory, meaning without the frills. This is one piece of tarnished silver that should not be polished. </p>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-69069462513999506762008-08-08T20:47:00.000-07:002008-08-08T20:52:01.590-07:00Rose Petal Cocktail<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqkOPdnik66JvqDgI1tPI48_3ntl675pREQTi_TsENKxqFAaEZ-6hMUnH26LohtA7HKc3LEeIycBetESI0glVNCk2ZZtJehVa8M5vdq-H-s7v3qoil8FDtM7pdLRhjoEVsLA8rGJXmjlY/s1600-h/DSC00849.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqkOPdnik66JvqDgI1tPI48_3ntl675pREQTi_TsENKxqFAaEZ-6hMUnH26LohtA7HKc3LEeIycBetESI0glVNCk2ZZtJehVa8M5vdq-H-s7v3qoil8FDtM7pdLRhjoEVsLA8rGJXmjlY/s320/DSC00849.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232360693040596418" border="0" /></a><br />Rose petals, torn<br />Bicardi Raspberry<br />Simple Syrup<br />Rose Water<br />Top with Champagne or Soda Water<br />Lime<br /><br />Served at The Modern in Manhattan, satellite restaurant of MoMa - The Museum of Modern Art<br /><br />delicious!Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-24645851020079979502008-07-30T06:21:00.000-07:002008-07-30T06:29:36.379-07:00A Treasure is Beached on the No Wave<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_jM86JmpJftLOWMQbecSXRQnKXAj2Uz0ow8jEQnNvS7nNCQkpUYXWzkxv1d9TE9x2o1umehKg2MeQFtNJ6rIKU616PjNpwBXJgeHqaIzy1uQ_TDr_KjlscnJCjpyp-xMzcDf6Qaw1Qw/s1600-h/DSC00755.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_jM86JmpJftLOWMQbecSXRQnKXAj2Uz0ow8jEQnNvS7nNCQkpUYXWzkxv1d9TE9x2o1umehKg2MeQFtNJ6rIKU616PjNpwBXJgeHqaIzy1uQ_TDr_KjlscnJCjpyp-xMzcDf6Qaw1Qw/s400/DSC00755.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228797240316486642" border="0" /></a>Who would listen to that cacophonous, ugly and obnoxiously inaccessible noise of No Wave? The kids who were responding to the looming apocalypse of its conception, fellow misfits who identified with the whole messy slew of its pioneers, and then kids like yours truly, thirty years later who just think it’s badass. That’s who. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The June 2008 release, <i style="">No Wave: Post Punk. Underground. <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">New York</st1:place></st1:State> 1976-1980.</i> is the most solid documentation to date about the bands and artists of the short-lived era. The book is a mouthpiece for the musicians directly related to the scene, offering interviews with all the major players. Musicians and rock journalists, Thurston Moore and Byron Coley, present the veteran accounts and all the content in a detailed, thorough and professional manner that brings legitimacy to such a raw and reckless acid trip of artistic expression. <span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><i style="">No Wave</i> focuses on the <st1:state st="on">New York</st1:State> locale, and admits that <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">New York</st1:place></st1:State> wasn’t even the most conducive of cities for punk. It mentions only CBGB, The Ramones and one publication: <i style="">Punk Magazine</i> as the punk pearls in a city full of dirty clams. The musicians and artists involved who wouldn’t have come to being without their punk predecessors (hence post-punk) were all scrounging to live a less than comfortable lifestyle during a poverty-stricken generation that made performing that much more precious. Moore and Coley fill in the gaps and smooth the transitions as needed, but the book more than anything gives a voice to the kids — now middle-aged adults — in the New York trenches of post-punk warfare, including members of Mars, The Gynecologists, Beirut Slump and about 40 more. It’s like reading a collective diary. The narratives are all honest, matter-of-fact and unashamed. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The book begins and is laden with the testimonials of a couch-surfing, lip-giving teenage runaway who didn’t think about much more than inserting herself in this club that didn’t have a name or niche besides cultivated craziness, later deemed as No Wave. Lydia Lunch who would form Teenage Jesus and the Jerks and consequential projects had her entire body on the pulse of the <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">New York</st1:place></st1:State> underground pack that prowled at likely venues such as CBGB and Max’s. Both establishments have already met their fate. <span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The movement (or as it proved stagnation) is refreshingly liberating. It’s where proper training doesn’t take primacy over self-instruction (in fact, the book explains how the Cramps started when two members were seeking out band mates who had never even played instruments), where social order is maintained through disorder and where skepticism fizzles with unabashed displays of rawk. The No Wave breed manages to glorify living in filth, mutiny, destruction and having no sense of direction, validated by fans and contributors like Jean-Michel Basquiat, William S. Borrows and Brian Eno. Ironically, the artists didn’t have much of a choice but to live the way they did in a time of such stark deprivation from a suffering economy. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The culture comes off as simultaneously reprehensible and somehow coveted and desirable. The product of the culture, though, is head-scratchingly innovative and artistic. The music evoked a kind of motiveless release. It was not meant to uplift or persuade, but just simply to exist.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The book doubly serves as a black and white picture book of the usual suspects: rockers dressed up in the garb of mismatched lawn-sale ensembles, with heavy makeup and gargantuan, thick rimmed specs adorning their faces. There’s a fine line between the hopelessly geeky and the enlightened hip in respect to the group’s fashion. In any event, image was a factor of inclusion in the scene where a cool haircut could warrant a bass or drums audition. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The truth is, this book may not reach a whole lot of people, generally speaking, because the movement didn’t reach a whole lot of people in the grand scheme of things. The most resonating band that more resulted from the scene than started it is Sonic Youth. So chances are, if you don’t care for the music you won’t care for the book. But if you do, it’s a little bit like candy. If anything, <i style="">No Wave</i> gives its audience something tangible to connect to those four years of gritty creativity — a time capsule immortalizing it.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080833520518498875.post-33815457429552726452008-07-21T22:49:00.000-07:002008-07-23T16:12:27.792-07:00Make Way for the Dark Knight<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Christopher Nolan doesn’t think big. He thinks monumental. The director’s grim case study of Gotham City and its vermin in “The Dark Knight” was so jolting, unrestrained and excruciating in its composition and effect, that any darker and it would have been pitch black. Film lovers shuddered in their seats during the two and a half hours of opening morning, transfixed by the uncomfortable splendor of this chapter in the Batman series.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">At the risk of diving right in, the Joker’s performance is appalling and does more than just indulge millions of anticipating viewers. In his first appearance since the masterful opening scene, we see the guy slam a man’s head into a pencil, shattering his skull on contact. As the Joker (Heath Ledger) pointedly asks Gotham’s District Attorney Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), “do I look like a guy who makes plans?” it’s true that he just “does things” and he does them with unflinching swift while getting off on every grimacing detail. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Though it might sound strange to say he is a man of integrity, the quality does however apply to his occupation as a criminal. He is disgusted with the <st1:place st="on">Gotham</st1:place> crooks, accusing them of misplaced lust in money when it should be put into the process of acquiring it. His sly wit and his own brand of grace make him the most debonair sociopath to date. He is cheeky, confident and the king of crime.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">It’s no wonder the late Ledger allegedly grappled with the aftermath of his Joker persona. Pulling long hours as a boundless killer would screw with anyone’s head, especially when allowing it to permeate every ounce of one’s being, which Ledger did with intimidating execution. He delivered on all accounts.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The complexity of the film is jam packed. The characters are continuously faced with moral dilemmas and tests of character. Eckhart, who shows up with an impassioned and perhaps unexpected performance, is the unassuming savior of <st1:place st="on">Gotham</st1:place>. Officer Gordon (the very versatile Gary Oldman) is faced with impossible dilemmas when promoted to Commissioner and Batman is (surprise, surprise) the most tortured of all. He’s beaten inasmuch as on the hunt for a successor and to the point where ethics lose priority to necessity.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Returning champion Christian Bale has no trouble playing a head case, as evident in his devilish performance as Patrick Batemen in “American Pyscho,” for one example. His disturbance in “Dark Knight” is quite different than Batemen’s, but just as intense. He wants nothing to do with the two traits he’s attributed with by <st1:place st="on">Gotham</st1:place>: hero and villain. He’s ready to be the Bruce Wayne he’s never had a chance to be. To complete the jigsaw puzzle, the Joker offers Batman the forbidden fruit of an alliance. The only apparent flaw in Bale’s performance is that heavy-handed breathy voice bordering on satire, which, of course, is clearly not its intention. <span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Batman’s lifelong love, Rachel Dawes is reintroduced as Maggie Gyllenhaal, a considerable upgrade from her lackluster predecessor, Katie Holmes. She moves about the screen with exquisite poise that is firm, focused and sexy. Her strength is one of her character’s assets, seeing as how she’s the object of affection for both <st1:place st="on">Gotham</st1:place>’s DA and Dark Knight. This feline could be resurrected in a subsequent film (wink wink). <span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">In a movie so conflicted, it had its moments of comedy just long enough for the viewer to catch their breath right before passing out from the pace. For instance, as the Joker walks out of a hospital in a nurse’s uniform, he starts to set off a series of bombs but when his detonator unpredictably malfunctions, he whacks at the device until the whole building blows up in one massive explosion at which point he runs away frantically. This little scene lasting only seconds is one of the few times we see the Joker’s weakness in such a ridiculous manner. <span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">It’s a testament to Nolan’s intent vision that he did not compromise the tone of the film to accommodate the fragile, the timid or the sheltering parents of the world in making it more accessible. Its legacy is its danger and its inconsiderate realist punches and those who don’t subscribe to its expression aren't meant to. This film is truly a benchmark of our time.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Sally Tunmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11788874962494871897noreply@blogger.com1