(Cartoon by the oh-so-awesome Don Hertzfeldt.)
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog
Since I'm terribly busy but I don't want to leave my audience of three without anything to read today, here is a parable of sorts submitted by my dad. My dad rocks.
Oh, and a happy, happy birthday to Warren!
Dubya Goes To Hell
While walking down the street one day, George "Dubya" Bush is shot by a disgruntled NRA member. His soul arrives in heaven and he is met by St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. "Welcome to heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem: We seldom see a Republican around these parts, so we're not sure what to do with you."
"No problem, just let me in; I'm a believer," says Dubya.
"I'd like to just let you in, but I have orders from the Man Himself: He says you have to spend one day in hell and one day in heaven. Then you must choose where you'll live for eternity."
"But, I've already made up my mind; I want to be in heaven." "
I'm sorry, but we have our rules." And with that, St. Peter escorts him to an elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush golf course; the sun is shining in a cloudless sky, the temperature a perfect 72 degrees. In the distance is a beautiful clubhouse. Standing in front of it are his dad and thousands of other Republicans who had helped him out over the years: Karl Rove, Dick Cheney, Jerry Falwell. The whole of the "Right" is here, everyone laughing, happy; casually but expensively dressed.They run to greet him, hug him, and reminisce about the good times they had getting rich at expense of the "suckers and peasants." They play a friendly game of golf, then dine on lobster and caviar.
The devil himself comes up to Bush with a frosty drink and says, "Have a Margarita and relax, Dubya!"
"Uh, I can't drink no more, I took a pledge," says Junior, dejectedly.
"This is Hell, son... you can drink and eat all you want and not worry, and it just gets better from here!" says the devil. Dubya takes the drink and finds himself liking the devil, a very friendly guy who tells funny jokes and pulls hilarious nasty pranks, kind of like a Yale Skull and Bones brother with real horns. They are having such a great time that, before he realizes it, it's time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves as Bush steps on the elevator and heads upward.
When the elevator door reopens, he is in heaven again and St. Peter is waiting for him. "Now it's time to visit heaven," the old man says, opening the gate. So for 24 hours Bush is made to hang out with a bunch of honest, good-natured people who enjoy each other's company, talk about things other than money, and treat each other decently. Not a nasty prank or frat boy joke among them; no fancy country clubs and, while the food tastes great, it's not caviar or lobster. And these people are all poor; he doesn't see anybody he knows, and he isn't even treated like someone special! Worst of all, to Dubya, Jesus turns out to be some kind of Jewish hippie with his endless 'peace' and 'do unto others' jive.
"Whoa," he says uncomfortably to himself, "Pat Robertson never prepared me for this!"
The day done, St. Peter returns and says, "Well, then, you've spent a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now choose where you want to live for eternity." With the 'Jeopardy' theme playing softly in the background, Dubya reflects for a minute, then answers, "Well, I would never have thought I'd say this -- I mean, heaven has been delightful and all -- but I really think I belong in hell with my friends." So Saint Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to hell.
The doors of the elevator open, and he finds himself in the middle of barren, scorched earth covered with garbage and toxic industrial waste...kind of like Houston. He is horrified to see all of his friends dressed in rags and chained together, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags. They are groaning and moaning in pain, faces and hands black with grime. The Devil comes over to Dubya and puts an arm around his shoulder. "I don't understand," stammers a shocked Dubya. "Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and a clubhouse and we ate lobster and caviar and drank booze. We screwed around and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and everybody looks miserable!"
The Devil looks at him, smiles slyly, and purrs, "Yesterday we were campaigning; today you voted for us."
Oh, and a happy, happy birthday to Warren!
Dubya Goes To Hell
While walking down the street one day, George "Dubya" Bush is shot by a disgruntled NRA member. His soul arrives in heaven and he is met by St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. "Welcome to heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem: We seldom see a Republican around these parts, so we're not sure what to do with you."
"No problem, just let me in; I'm a believer," says Dubya.
"I'd like to just let you in, but I have orders from the Man Himself: He says you have to spend one day in hell and one day in heaven. Then you must choose where you'll live for eternity."
"But, I've already made up my mind; I want to be in heaven." "
I'm sorry, but we have our rules." And with that, St. Peter escorts him to an elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush golf course; the sun is shining in a cloudless sky, the temperature a perfect 72 degrees. In the distance is a beautiful clubhouse. Standing in front of it are his dad and thousands of other Republicans who had helped him out over the years: Karl Rove, Dick Cheney, Jerry Falwell. The whole of the "Right" is here, everyone laughing, happy; casually but expensively dressed.They run to greet him, hug him, and reminisce about the good times they had getting rich at expense of the "suckers and peasants." They play a friendly game of golf, then dine on lobster and caviar.
The devil himself comes up to Bush with a frosty drink and says, "Have a Margarita and relax, Dubya!"
"Uh, I can't drink no more, I took a pledge," says Junior, dejectedly.
"This is Hell, son... you can drink and eat all you want and not worry, and it just gets better from here!" says the devil. Dubya takes the drink and finds himself liking the devil, a very friendly guy who tells funny jokes and pulls hilarious nasty pranks, kind of like a Yale Skull and Bones brother with real horns. They are having such a great time that, before he realizes it, it's time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves as Bush steps on the elevator and heads upward.
When the elevator door reopens, he is in heaven again and St. Peter is waiting for him. "Now it's time to visit heaven," the old man says, opening the gate. So for 24 hours Bush is made to hang out with a bunch of honest, good-natured people who enjoy each other's company, talk about things other than money, and treat each other decently. Not a nasty prank or frat boy joke among them; no fancy country clubs and, while the food tastes great, it's not caviar or lobster. And these people are all poor; he doesn't see anybody he knows, and he isn't even treated like someone special! Worst of all, to Dubya, Jesus turns out to be some kind of Jewish hippie with his endless 'peace' and 'do unto others' jive.
"Whoa," he says uncomfortably to himself, "Pat Robertson never prepared me for this!"
The day done, St. Peter returns and says, "Well, then, you've spent a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now choose where you want to live for eternity." With the 'Jeopardy' theme playing softly in the background, Dubya reflects for a minute, then answers, "Well, I would never have thought I'd say this -- I mean, heaven has been delightful and all -- but I really think I belong in hell with my friends." So Saint Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to hell.
The doors of the elevator open, and he finds himself in the middle of barren, scorched earth covered with garbage and toxic industrial waste...kind of like Houston. He is horrified to see all of his friends dressed in rags and chained together, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags. They are groaning and moaning in pain, faces and hands black with grime. The Devil comes over to Dubya and puts an arm around his shoulder. "I don't understand," stammers a shocked Dubya. "Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and a clubhouse and we ate lobster and caviar and drank booze. We screwed around and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and everybody looks miserable!"
The Devil looks at him, smiles slyly, and purrs, "Yesterday we were campaigning; today you voted for us."
Monday, October 18, 2004
Oliver's Army
Sssshhhhh... Amoeba Music in Hollywood has a very special in-store performance lined up for tomorrow, Tuesday the 19th. Elvis Costello. 6pm. (Wonder if Diana Krall will show?)
Sunday, October 17, 2004
Run Rabbit Run
A few weeks ago, I was treated to a special night out by a good friend who was visiting for a few days. The special night was in Beverly Hills at a swanky steakhouse called Mastro's. My friend and I just love a good steak.
This particular joint is known for great food, a fantastic bar and (of course) famous patrons. It's the sort of place where you have a great meal and realize that the guy who suggested your dessert is a regular on some TV show, and the men hanging out at the bar are old, old, old school bigwheels. The place has only been around a few years, but they try to pull off that swingin' bachelor pad vibe of yesteryear, playing Rat Pack music over the speakers and lining the walls with chunky stone and dark wood. You can actually order a $4000 bottle of wine with dinner if you felt like it. The waiters are all comedians and the food is amazing.
One of the fun parts of living in LA is to be exposed to little treats like this place. Everybody was terribly nice and friendly, but it was soooooooo Beverly Hills. And by that, I mean most of the folks there were rich. I'm excluding myself, of course. But you could practically smell the old money - it was kind of bizarre.
As we were leaving the joint, I had to run to the restroom and my friend went to the other side of the bar to wait for me. This meant that once I went to find him, I had to walk the gauntlet through a crowd a much older men who were all dressed to the business casual nines. Most of these men had lovely younger ladies with them, but I was still a bit of a distraction, it seemed. But in a polite, older guy way. And just before I popped out of the crowd, the gentleman who turned to greet me and excuse himself as he moved aside with the tiniest flourish and a crooked smile was really familiar. Wasn't till I passed him that I realized who it was.
Yep, the king of the Playboys himself, Mr. Hefner. Figures - he knows a thing or two about meat.
This particular joint is known for great food, a fantastic bar and (of course) famous patrons. It's the sort of place where you have a great meal and realize that the guy who suggested your dessert is a regular on some TV show, and the men hanging out at the bar are old, old, old school bigwheels. The place has only been around a few years, but they try to pull off that swingin' bachelor pad vibe of yesteryear, playing Rat Pack music over the speakers and lining the walls with chunky stone and dark wood. You can actually order a $4000 bottle of wine with dinner if you felt like it. The waiters are all comedians and the food is amazing.
One of the fun parts of living in LA is to be exposed to little treats like this place. Everybody was terribly nice and friendly, but it was soooooooo Beverly Hills. And by that, I mean most of the folks there were rich. I'm excluding myself, of course. But you could practically smell the old money - it was kind of bizarre.
As we were leaving the joint, I had to run to the restroom and my friend went to the other side of the bar to wait for me. This meant that once I went to find him, I had to walk the gauntlet through a crowd a much older men who were all dressed to the business casual nines. Most of these men had lovely younger ladies with them, but I was still a bit of a distraction, it seemed. But in a polite, older guy way. And just before I popped out of the crowd, the gentleman who turned to greet me and excuse himself as he moved aside with the tiniest flourish and a crooked smile was really familiar. Wasn't till I passed him that I realized who it was.
Yep, the king of the Playboys himself, Mr. Hefner. Figures - he knows a thing or two about meat.
Thursday, October 14, 2004
She Wore Blue Velvet
I had to go to the dentist today. I have fangs, and they need to be dealt with. It's a long story, and the fangs aren't super obvious, but the goth kids always notice right away. "Heeeeeey, did you get that done? They're cooooooooool..."
My dentist is in Santa Monica. He was a professor once, but now he's just in regular ole private practice in an average office off a main drag in a not so swanky building. My insurance pays him, a friend recommended him. Like most dentists in LA, I'd expect him to have a celeb in his patient list. Maybe two.
My dentist sees the David Lynch posse.
As we were discussing my impending dental work, he asked me if I wanted to change the shape of my fangs. I said no, they weren't causing me any problems and I sort of like them. I've had these slightly funky teeth all my life and it's part of who I am. This led him to tell me a story.
"Oh, yes, I have this patient... she's an actress. Roselli? Do you know? Oh, Isabella Rosellini. I'm bad with her last name."
"Yes, yes, I know who she is."
"Oh, yes, Isabella. David brought her her when they were making Blue Velvet, about 20 years ago, and I still see his cameramen, and sound people, Dennis Hooper - uh - Hopper, yes, all of them. I saw Isabella and I told her, 'I can fix those front teeth' because her front teeth are kind of crooked. But she said no, that she was already a successful model and she liked her crooked teeth. Now everytime I get off the plane in the airport, I see posters of her for that makeup she models - uh - Lancane? Lancome. Yes. I see posters, and there is that tooth, right in my face!"
(Isabella and her teeth.)
Anyway, I had a talk with Kristin Hersh last summer about teeth. She likes to remind her kids of who I am by saying, "You remember Mo... the lady with the cool teeth..." She said that she was always bummed that her parents had made her get her teeth fixed when she was a kid, and she was always jealous about other people with slightly fucked up teeth. Well, I don't have a British smile by anyone's standards, just slightly funky and endearing, I think. So the fangs stay.
Hell, if Isabella can make it glamorous, why can't I?
My dentist is in Santa Monica. He was a professor once, but now he's just in regular ole private practice in an average office off a main drag in a not so swanky building. My insurance pays him, a friend recommended him. Like most dentists in LA, I'd expect him to have a celeb in his patient list. Maybe two.
My dentist sees the David Lynch posse.
As we were discussing my impending dental work, he asked me if I wanted to change the shape of my fangs. I said no, they weren't causing me any problems and I sort of like them. I've had these slightly funky teeth all my life and it's part of who I am. This led him to tell me a story.
"Oh, yes, I have this patient... she's an actress. Roselli? Do you know? Oh, Isabella Rosellini. I'm bad with her last name."
"Yes, yes, I know who she is."
"Oh, yes, Isabella. David brought her her when they were making Blue Velvet, about 20 years ago, and I still see his cameramen, and sound people, Dennis Hooper - uh - Hopper, yes, all of them. I saw Isabella and I told her, 'I can fix those front teeth' because her front teeth are kind of crooked. But she said no, that she was already a successful model and she liked her crooked teeth. Now everytime I get off the plane in the airport, I see posters of her for that makeup she models - uh - Lancane? Lancome. Yes. I see posters, and there is that tooth, right in my face!"
(Isabella and her teeth.)
Anyway, I had a talk with Kristin Hersh last summer about teeth. She likes to remind her kids of who I am by saying, "You remember Mo... the lady with the cool teeth..." She said that she was always bummed that her parents had made her get her teeth fixed when she was a kid, and she was always jealous about other people with slightly fucked up teeth. Well, I don't have a British smile by anyone's standards, just slightly funky and endearing, I think. So the fangs stay.
Hell, if Isabella can make it glamorous, why can't I?
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
The California Kid
The roomie is pulled from retirement to blog another day. Check her out as she full-on represents for the City of Angels.
California's new quarter comes out next year. I'm soooooo looking forward to it! I even got a sneak peek - wanna see?
Kidding! My friend John made that. But I really wish it were our quarter, cuz it would be the most accurate, that's for damn sure.
California's new quarter comes out next year. I'm soooooo looking forward to it! I even got a sneak peek - wanna see?
Kidding! My friend John made that. But I really wish it were our quarter, cuz it would be the most accurate, that's for damn sure.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
This Is Ground Control to Mr. LeBon
"Barbarella, your mission: Find Duran Duran and use all of your incomparable talents to preserve the security of the stars..."
I am a freak about Duran Duran. Regular readers know this. I will always enjoy this band, happily and with a guilt free conscience. John Taylor is a total babe.
So their new CD, Astronaut, with the original lineup once again intact, came out today. I'll get it soon enough. The new video has already hit the VH1 cable waves so that former new romantics like myself can indulge. It features Nick Rhodes in a spaceship, making mannequins come to life. Rad. (Hmmm... who has better floppy hair... Nick Rhodes, or any of the guys in Franz Ferdinand? Hmmmm...)
Speaking of Franz Ferdinand, check out this hilarious interview with Simon where he mentions those guys and how much he loves the Killers.
Simon and Nick were always very cool about their musical tastes... D2's European tour last January featured the Scissor Sisters and Goldfrapp opening for them - handpicked by Simon & Nick. Nicely done!
And you've gotta read this interview with Time Magazine also... ridiculously funny. Here's an excerpt:
TIME: Is the entire band married to models?
Simon LeBon: Someone's got to keep the models happy.
And about the new CD? From Entertainment Weekly: Either Simon LeBon has become one fine singer, or recording engineers have discovered an anti-adenoidal button. That's just one of the surprises on the first album in 21 years from the original lineup of new wave's steeliest mannequins. Glistening zero-gravity synth-funk that's mostly unembarrassing and at times shockingly vital (the proto-Faint squall of "Want You More!"), this is so '80s you can almost taste the freebase. B --Doug Brod
What? I could have a drug problem or something, you know. Let me have my little obsessions...
I am a freak about Duran Duran. Regular readers know this. I will always enjoy this band, happily and with a guilt free conscience. John Taylor is a total babe.
So their new CD, Astronaut, with the original lineup once again intact, came out today. I'll get it soon enough. The new video has already hit the VH1 cable waves so that former new romantics like myself can indulge. It features Nick Rhodes in a spaceship, making mannequins come to life. Rad. (Hmmm... who has better floppy hair... Nick Rhodes, or any of the guys in Franz Ferdinand? Hmmmm...)
Speaking of Franz Ferdinand, check out this hilarious interview with Simon where he mentions those guys and how much he loves the Killers.
Simon and Nick were always very cool about their musical tastes... D2's European tour last January featured the Scissor Sisters and Goldfrapp opening for them - handpicked by Simon & Nick. Nicely done!
And you've gotta read this interview with Time Magazine also... ridiculously funny. Here's an excerpt:
TIME: Is the entire band married to models?
Simon LeBon: Someone's got to keep the models happy.
And about the new CD? From Entertainment Weekly: Either Simon LeBon has become one fine singer, or recording engineers have discovered an anti-adenoidal button. That's just one of the surprises on the first album in 21 years from the original lineup of new wave's steeliest mannequins. Glistening zero-gravity synth-funk that's mostly unembarrassing and at times shockingly vital (the proto-Faint squall of "Want You More!"), this is so '80s you can almost taste the freebase. B --Doug Brod
What? I could have a drug problem or something, you know. Let me have my little obsessions...
Monday, October 11, 2004
Talk About... Pop Music
I have been fortunate enough in the last week or so to be bombarded with a helluva lot of new music. So much that I have to make myself take my comfort food out of the CD player and give these newbies a spin or two. Usually on the hour long 10 mile drive to and from work.
I thought I would share, if anybody's interested.
!!! Louden Up Now
Love it. Totally fun. Crazy, but fun. Although !!! is often lumped into the recent New York dance craze with acts like Hot Hot Heat and The Rapture, I think they may have more in common with the post-Clash outfit, Big Audio Dynamite. They are their own unique beast, however, a group of nerdy white kids with the ability to create music for the dirty dancing college crowd, respected by funksters and stoners alike. There is very much a kitchen-sink element to them; they throw in new wave tinkling with heavy percussion and intense vocals with infectious results. Dig it.
Radio 4 Stealing of a Nation
Moving Units Dangerous Dreams
I listened to these two CDs on the same day, which was a mistake. Why? Well, once I had finished up, I thought to myself, "Gee, I really like Gang of Four, and I'm sort of over this Gang of Four rip off thing." This is not to say that these albums aren't good - hell, I'd be shakin' my ass like nobody's business on the disco punk dance floor (where the boys would all be wearing white jeans - you KNOW that's true). There just isn't really anything new here. The Moving Units CD is pretty much a continuation of the EP they put out ummm... two years ago. I certainly dig some tracks ("Birds of Prey," "Submission," "Available" are all good screamy angular dance fun), but I've heard it before. The Radio 4 boys are pushing more in !!! territory, but !!! has more of an organic true funky sound, and these guys sound like they're trying to work their fab "Dance to the Underground" thing a bit longer. Again, there are definitely tracks here I really like ("Party Crashers," "The Death of American Radio," and "No Reaction"), but they sound like they are trying a little two hard. And they're making it political, which is always kinda tricky. And am I the only one who thinks that singer Freddy Frogs sounds like Joe Jackson?
Nancy Sinatra s/t
Okay, Nancy can't really sing... you know that, right? And other people wrote her a bunch of songs to not really sing. They realized that she's one of those talk singers, and she can do the little girl voice, and that's what they did with her. The big fuss is that Morrissey wrote (and sings backup!) on a track, "Let Me Kiss You," which is (I think) the best track on there. It's quite pretty, in that Morrissey swoony way. Jarvis Cocker wrote a couple songs, Thurston Moore did a suitably creepy one for her (which is hil-AR-i-ous to listen too), and the boys from U2 also presented her with a torchy number called "One Shot of Happy, Two Shots of Sad" which really use her talents to the best of their ability.
The Hidden Cameras Mississauga, Goddam
I wanted to like this more than I did. I wanted it to be the sparkly, jangle pop with clever lyrics that I heard on the radio from time to time. It made me think of New Zealand pop from the 80's/90's, kinda fresh and fucked up at the same time. Instead it was a little too silly for me, and kinda repetitive, but still very cute. They're like a gay pop choir from Toronto. Kinda. (Actually, that's exactly what they are.)
The Datsuns Outta Sight/ Outta Mind
Speaking of New Zealand... these Kiwis are a guilty pleasure of mine. They do that rock thing just fine. And on this CD they continue making dirty rock and roll which isn't awesome, but is fun.
Interpol Antics
Who am I kidding... I've had this CD all summer because my roommate is cool. At first listen, I thought it was okay. There is nothing as grand and beautiful as "NYC" here. But after a few more listens, I realized I liked it a lot. Then I loved it. "Evil" & "C'Mere" are my current favorites... still pretty, somewhat aggresive, and Paul sings more, doesn't he? Give it a few listens; I'm addicted.
The New Year The End Is Near
What Bedhead became. Nice, pretty, a little too slow for me. I'm sure the Bedhead kids love it, though.
Pedro the Lion Achilles Heel
Another sad, sensitive offering from Pedro the Lion, once again intelligently rendered and emotionally perceptive... I always like this guy more than I mean to, because I'm a dork and get turned off by his "spirituality" aspect and am not a fan of story songs (although I have no problem with either of these things when it comes to Nick Cave... see below). Musically, the album is a pretty melodic affair, a little quieter than past efforts. He bounces it up a bit more with a country-ish "Foregone Conclusions" and "Keep Swinging." Bazan's voice is one of those that is not beautiful but emotive and endearing, making the lyrical delivery sound all the more honest. So I liked it.
Mellowdrone Go Get 'em Tiger
Initially a one-man show by Jonathan Bates, my homeboys Mellowdrone released a couple melodic EPs before Bates picked up some bandmates to fully round out the sound he was going for all along -- a dreamy yet thoroughly engaging kind of rock, not out of place with the likes of Ride, Swervedriver, and Beck in his Sea Changes phase. Majestic at times, full of swooning orchestration and hypnotic rhythms, Mellowdrone's work wears its love of Radiohead proudly on its sleeve on tracks like "Bonemarrow" and "Pretty Boy." Way, way nice.
Charles Douglas Statecraft
This got handed to me because Joey Santiago plays guitar on a lot of it. It's okay, sounds like A sort of Superchunky (but not rowdy) thing. Maybe I think this because Chapel Hill is mentioned a few times. He also mention rolling joints, but it's not a stoner record. Lyrically kinda dorky, musically very sweet. It was ok.
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds Abattoir Blues/ The Lyre of Orpheus
"This is a song about a girl..." I have to be totally honest with you: I haven't listened to these entire CDs more than one time apiece. Why? The very first track on Abattoir Blues, "Get Ready For Love," kicks serious ass. It's totally rockin'. It's like someone lit a fire under Nicky to get him to stop being the croonmeister he's been for soooooo many albums now... I like the way Nick Cave sings, whether he's screaming or swooning. I've often said that if someone could sing to me like Nick Cave, I'd marry him. But even this sappy romantic of a girl got a bit tired of all his reflective, somber croonfests. So right off the bat on this album, he jumps right out of the box and gets rowdy, "Deanna" style except creepier and with a gospel choir. Of course. There's also a groovy calypso number, some warped "Carny"-esque stuff and the pretty songs. My best friend commented: "I didn't think he could write songs like that anymore." I haven't been this excited about anything Nick Cave has done in eons. And from this man, I can handle story songs.
The Concretes s/t
Another CD I really wanted to hear because it reminded me of the twee side of New Zealand music, but it turns out they're from Stockholm. I like those bands too. I've become addicted to this one in the same way a kid might eat Skittles till he pukes. Singer Victoria Bergsman has kind of a Hope Sandoval thing going on, which usually annoys me but in this case doesn't. The music is like Mazzy Star meets the Velvet Underground to hang with the Supremes in an opium den. Very pretty and weird, sometimes cute, and I even like the words.
Rogue Wave Out of the Shadow
This CD is excellent all the way through. For fans of Elliott Smith, Earlimart, The Shins,You Am I, Beulah, Irving, etc... Dreamy hooky quirky pop, sweet vocals, lovely orchestration, endearing lyrics. This is like, the billionth time these songs have been released in the last 2 years and these guys are from my adopted hometown (San Francisco), and they've finally come into my life and I'm very glad. A really wonderful CD I'll be listening to for a long time.
That's wave one. I still have another stack of CDs to go...
I thought I would share, if anybody's interested.
!!! Louden Up Now
Love it. Totally fun. Crazy, but fun. Although !!! is often lumped into the recent New York dance craze with acts like Hot Hot Heat and The Rapture, I think they may have more in common with the post-Clash outfit, Big Audio Dynamite. They are their own unique beast, however, a group of nerdy white kids with the ability to create music for the dirty dancing college crowd, respected by funksters and stoners alike. There is very much a kitchen-sink element to them; they throw in new wave tinkling with heavy percussion and intense vocals with infectious results. Dig it.
Radio 4 Stealing of a Nation
Moving Units Dangerous Dreams
I listened to these two CDs on the same day, which was a mistake. Why? Well, once I had finished up, I thought to myself, "Gee, I really like Gang of Four, and I'm sort of over this Gang of Four rip off thing." This is not to say that these albums aren't good - hell, I'd be shakin' my ass like nobody's business on the disco punk dance floor (where the boys would all be wearing white jeans - you KNOW that's true). There just isn't really anything new here. The Moving Units CD is pretty much a continuation of the EP they put out ummm... two years ago. I certainly dig some tracks ("Birds of Prey," "Submission," "Available" are all good screamy angular dance fun), but I've heard it before. The Radio 4 boys are pushing more in !!! territory, but !!! has more of an organic true funky sound, and these guys sound like they're trying to work their fab "Dance to the Underground" thing a bit longer. Again, there are definitely tracks here I really like ("Party Crashers," "The Death of American Radio," and "No Reaction"), but they sound like they are trying a little two hard. And they're making it political, which is always kinda tricky. And am I the only one who thinks that singer Freddy Frogs sounds like Joe Jackson?
Nancy Sinatra s/t
Okay, Nancy can't really sing... you know that, right? And other people wrote her a bunch of songs to not really sing. They realized that she's one of those talk singers, and she can do the little girl voice, and that's what they did with her. The big fuss is that Morrissey wrote (and sings backup!) on a track, "Let Me Kiss You," which is (I think) the best track on there. It's quite pretty, in that Morrissey swoony way. Jarvis Cocker wrote a couple songs, Thurston Moore did a suitably creepy one for her (which is hil-AR-i-ous to listen too), and the boys from U2 also presented her with a torchy number called "One Shot of Happy, Two Shots of Sad" which really use her talents to the best of their ability.
The Hidden Cameras Mississauga, Goddam
I wanted to like this more than I did. I wanted it to be the sparkly, jangle pop with clever lyrics that I heard on the radio from time to time. It made me think of New Zealand pop from the 80's/90's, kinda fresh and fucked up at the same time. Instead it was a little too silly for me, and kinda repetitive, but still very cute. They're like a gay pop choir from Toronto. Kinda. (Actually, that's exactly what they are.)
The Datsuns Outta Sight/ Outta Mind
Speaking of New Zealand... these Kiwis are a guilty pleasure of mine. They do that rock thing just fine. And on this CD they continue making dirty rock and roll which isn't awesome, but is fun.
Interpol Antics
Who am I kidding... I've had this CD all summer because my roommate is cool. At first listen, I thought it was okay. There is nothing as grand and beautiful as "NYC" here. But after a few more listens, I realized I liked it a lot. Then I loved it. "Evil" & "C'Mere" are my current favorites... still pretty, somewhat aggresive, and Paul sings more, doesn't he? Give it a few listens; I'm addicted.
The New Year The End Is Near
What Bedhead became. Nice, pretty, a little too slow for me. I'm sure the Bedhead kids love it, though.
Pedro the Lion Achilles Heel
Another sad, sensitive offering from Pedro the Lion, once again intelligently rendered and emotionally perceptive... I always like this guy more than I mean to, because I'm a dork and get turned off by his "spirituality" aspect and am not a fan of story songs (although I have no problem with either of these things when it comes to Nick Cave... see below). Musically, the album is a pretty melodic affair, a little quieter than past efforts. He bounces it up a bit more with a country-ish "Foregone Conclusions" and "Keep Swinging." Bazan's voice is one of those that is not beautiful but emotive and endearing, making the lyrical delivery sound all the more honest. So I liked it.
Mellowdrone Go Get 'em Tiger
Initially a one-man show by Jonathan Bates, my homeboys Mellowdrone released a couple melodic EPs before Bates picked up some bandmates to fully round out the sound he was going for all along -- a dreamy yet thoroughly engaging kind of rock, not out of place with the likes of Ride, Swervedriver, and Beck in his Sea Changes phase. Majestic at times, full of swooning orchestration and hypnotic rhythms, Mellowdrone's work wears its love of Radiohead proudly on its sleeve on tracks like "Bonemarrow" and "Pretty Boy." Way, way nice.
Charles Douglas Statecraft
This got handed to me because Joey Santiago plays guitar on a lot of it. It's okay, sounds like A sort of Superchunky (but not rowdy) thing. Maybe I think this because Chapel Hill is mentioned a few times. He also mention rolling joints, but it's not a stoner record. Lyrically kinda dorky, musically very sweet. It was ok.
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds Abattoir Blues/ The Lyre of Orpheus
"This is a song about a girl..." I have to be totally honest with you: I haven't listened to these entire CDs more than one time apiece. Why? The very first track on Abattoir Blues, "Get Ready For Love," kicks serious ass. It's totally rockin'. It's like someone lit a fire under Nicky to get him to stop being the croonmeister he's been for soooooo many albums now... I like the way Nick Cave sings, whether he's screaming or swooning. I've often said that if someone could sing to me like Nick Cave, I'd marry him. But even this sappy romantic of a girl got a bit tired of all his reflective, somber croonfests. So right off the bat on this album, he jumps right out of the box and gets rowdy, "Deanna" style except creepier and with a gospel choir. Of course. There's also a groovy calypso number, some warped "Carny"-esque stuff and the pretty songs. My best friend commented: "I didn't think he could write songs like that anymore." I haven't been this excited about anything Nick Cave has done in eons. And from this man, I can handle story songs.
The Concretes s/t
Another CD I really wanted to hear because it reminded me of the twee side of New Zealand music, but it turns out they're from Stockholm. I like those bands too. I've become addicted to this one in the same way a kid might eat Skittles till he pukes. Singer Victoria Bergsman has kind of a Hope Sandoval thing going on, which usually annoys me but in this case doesn't. The music is like Mazzy Star meets the Velvet Underground to hang with the Supremes in an opium den. Very pretty and weird, sometimes cute, and I even like the words.
Rogue Wave Out of the Shadow
This CD is excellent all the way through. For fans of Elliott Smith, Earlimart, The Shins,You Am I, Beulah, Irving, etc... Dreamy hooky quirky pop, sweet vocals, lovely orchestration, endearing lyrics. This is like, the billionth time these songs have been released in the last 2 years and these guys are from my adopted hometown (San Francisco), and they've finally come into my life and I'm very glad. A really wonderful CD I'll be listening to for a long time.
That's wave one. I still have another stack of CDs to go...
Saturday, October 09, 2004
Hooray for...
Hmmm... just testing this pic feature with the view outside my lovely windows... Yea, sometimes I can be a little brat, I know.
Him Dancing
Guess what I'm doing for Christmas this year?
Pixies
Support: 50 Foot Wave (feat. Kristin Hersh)
Hammerstein Ballroom, New York, NYC
Saturday, December 18, 11:59pm
I'll be lucky if my head doesn't explode after this show. Two of my favorite artists of all time, on the same stage, on the same night? The only way this evening could possibly get any better was if Duran Duran was playing some secret 3am show at a club nearby, with Interpol opening, so we could white trash disco the night away. Then as we blearily wandered into a nearby coffeeshop afterwards while the drugs are wearing off, Johnette Napolitano would be there singing and playing guitar for a small but appreciative group as she comes down from the previous night's drinking jag.
But I'll settle for just the Pixies and Kristin Hersh for now.
Pixies
Support: 50 Foot Wave (feat. Kristin Hersh)
Hammerstein Ballroom, New York, NYC
Saturday, December 18, 11:59pm
I'll be lucky if my head doesn't explode after this show. Two of my favorite artists of all time, on the same stage, on the same night? The only way this evening could possibly get any better was if Duran Duran was playing some secret 3am show at a club nearby, with Interpol opening, so we could white trash disco the night away. Then as we blearily wandered into a nearby coffeeshop afterwards while the drugs are wearing off, Johnette Napolitano would be there singing and playing guitar for a small but appreciative group as she comes down from the previous night's drinking jag.
But I'll settle for just the Pixies and Kristin Hersh for now.
Friday, October 08, 2004
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Groove Is In the Heart
I got this email from a friend the other day...
For the past year, I was living in a film archive run by this complete anti-social nutcase. Stayed inside all day and, from what I could tell, was completely socially autistic (found out later he probably had Asperger's syndrome). He would yell at my friends for ringing the doorbell too loud. He had a fetish for vintage pornography and was crazy sexist. But we got along great. The vast ocean of his off-the-wall wackiness completely diluted my own social phobias. I'd look at him and think, "This guy's fucking nuts and he seems to be able to navigate the world reasonably well. What the heck am I so worried about?"
Exactly.
The roommie and I saw "Dig!" the other night. If you haven't heard about it, director Ondi Timoner started this documentary out thinking she was going to cover the career paths of ten different bands over the course of a certain period of time, but was commanded by Brian Jonestown Massacre founder Anton Newcombe to just follow him and the other greatest band in the world, the Dandy Warhols. So the film follows Anton and Courtney Taylor (and the rest of their band members) around for about 7 years, watching the Dandys achieve some level of alternative success (videos by Dave LaChapelle and headlining European music festivals) and charting the struggle (and occasional self sabotage) of Anton and his crew.
What this film really turns into is a character study of the mad genius versus the industry. While the Dandy Warhols are extremely talented, they are also rewarded for playing by the rules (making pouty videos, kissing the right ass, etc) and they have a record deal - albeit somewhat frustrating at times - to show for it. BJM, on the other hand, is driven by Anton's fierce DIY ethic, and, unfortunately, his whims... Which (as depicted in the film anyway... And I've seen my share of BJM shows that were similar) led to fights with band and/or audience members, studio engineers, label types... You name it.
Anton Newcombe has created some really amazing music. He knows it, and will be the first to tell you so. A friend of mine went to a BJM show recently and reported back, "Anton started the show by abandoning the band, playing DJ for a bit, then got on stage and preached on about the war in Iraq and the loss of life... This went on for 45 minutes, and eventually they played three songs. And those three songs were the best songs you felt like you'd ever heard in your life."
That's the thing with Anton. He is powerfully creative, and pretty nuts. Watching a BJM show sometimes has the same appeal as watching a car wreck. You can't tear your eyes away. So it was easy for him to become the focal point of this film, because he behaves in such a self absorbed way(including some serious substance abuse... Surprise!), and is so confident in just about everything he does, that it's absolutely fascinating material. He pretty much always does what you secretly wish you could do. But all this crazy, unchecked behavior makes you forget that there is real talent there, and at least the movie (and Courtney Taylor) try to keep reminding the viewer of that.
So this got me thinking... Doesn't it seem like there are a disproportionate number of artistic nutjobs out there? Beautifully creative people with insane drug habits and completely irrational behavior? Why is that? I've hung out with people like this over the years, and possibly the most talented, creative person I've ever known was also the funniest, intelligent and completely horrible person - all at the same time. You never knew when you walked in if he was going to make you laugh or try to make you angry. He liked to antagonize people just as much as entertain them. It was difficult to be friends at times, and incredibly rewarding at others.
Well, I guess these people are fucking nuts and seem to be able to navigate the world reasonably well. And we get this great art on top of it. What the heck am I so worried about?
For the past year, I was living in a film archive run by this complete anti-social nutcase. Stayed inside all day and, from what I could tell, was completely socially autistic (found out later he probably had Asperger's syndrome). He would yell at my friends for ringing the doorbell too loud. He had a fetish for vintage pornography and was crazy sexist. But we got along great. The vast ocean of his off-the-wall wackiness completely diluted my own social phobias. I'd look at him and think, "This guy's fucking nuts and he seems to be able to navigate the world reasonably well. What the heck am I so worried about?"
Exactly.
The roommie and I saw "Dig!" the other night. If you haven't heard about it, director Ondi Timoner started this documentary out thinking she was going to cover the career paths of ten different bands over the course of a certain period of time, but was commanded by Brian Jonestown Massacre founder Anton Newcombe to just follow him and the other greatest band in the world, the Dandy Warhols. So the film follows Anton and Courtney Taylor (and the rest of their band members) around for about 7 years, watching the Dandys achieve some level of alternative success (videos by Dave LaChapelle and headlining European music festivals) and charting the struggle (and occasional self sabotage) of Anton and his crew.
What this film really turns into is a character study of the mad genius versus the industry. While the Dandy Warhols are extremely talented, they are also rewarded for playing by the rules (making pouty videos, kissing the right ass, etc) and they have a record deal - albeit somewhat frustrating at times - to show for it. BJM, on the other hand, is driven by Anton's fierce DIY ethic, and, unfortunately, his whims... Which (as depicted in the film anyway... And I've seen my share of BJM shows that were similar) led to fights with band and/or audience members, studio engineers, label types... You name it.
Anton Newcombe has created some really amazing music. He knows it, and will be the first to tell you so. A friend of mine went to a BJM show recently and reported back, "Anton started the show by abandoning the band, playing DJ for a bit, then got on stage and preached on about the war in Iraq and the loss of life... This went on for 45 minutes, and eventually they played three songs. And those three songs were the best songs you felt like you'd ever heard in your life."
That's the thing with Anton. He is powerfully creative, and pretty nuts. Watching a BJM show sometimes has the same appeal as watching a car wreck. You can't tear your eyes away. So it was easy for him to become the focal point of this film, because he behaves in such a self absorbed way(including some serious substance abuse... Surprise!), and is so confident in just about everything he does, that it's absolutely fascinating material. He pretty much always does what you secretly wish you could do. But all this crazy, unchecked behavior makes you forget that there is real talent there, and at least the movie (and Courtney Taylor) try to keep reminding the viewer of that.
So this got me thinking... Doesn't it seem like there are a disproportionate number of artistic nutjobs out there? Beautifully creative people with insane drug habits and completely irrational behavior? Why is that? I've hung out with people like this over the years, and possibly the most talented, creative person I've ever known was also the funniest, intelligent and completely horrible person - all at the same time. You never knew when you walked in if he was going to make you laugh or try to make you angry. He liked to antagonize people just as much as entertain them. It was difficult to be friends at times, and incredibly rewarding at others.
Well, I guess these people are fucking nuts and seem to be able to navigate the world reasonably well. And we get this great art on top of it. What the heck am I so worried about?
Reality Bites
Does this mean people will actually start writing for TV again? Creating a whole new batch of potentially interesting (or not) TV shows and new television celebrities? I hope so... although all I ever watch these days is HBO, IFC or Comedy Central. Oh, and Adult Swim - cuz it RULES!
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
California Dreamin'
Yet another reason why I love living in California. I don't even mind the occasional earthquake. (Think I'll go buy a new sweater after work...)
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Goin' to the Chapel...
"... And thanks to my wonderful husband Mark. Someday soon we can get a legal marriage license and you can make an honest homosexual out of me." -Emmy winner Tony Kushner of "Angels of America" for writing in a miniseries, movie or dramatic special.
Didn't have time to say anything about this when it actually happened, but YES!
Remember when Britney got married for like, 4 minutes, and everyone thought it was so funny? And how J. Lo keeps getting married and how Liz Taylor has been married about a million times and no one seems to mind? It's just more fodder for the tabloids. Well, why can't gay couples do that too? You see, Britney's 30 second nuptials don't exactly shout "preservation of the sanctity of marriage" to me. However, my friend's uncles, together for 38 years or so, have a relationship that I could aspire to.
My parents have been married 37 years. I have very few friends who still have their original set of parents. In the last few years, I've come to realize that I know of quite a few gay couples who have been together over 10 years, some more than 20. And I have a few friends with a gay parent who has been with their partner much, much longer than that.
Anyway, check out Margaret Cho's Marriage Equality website. I used to not be able to stand this chick, but I now realize it's just her comedy routines I don't care for. Her political views are pretty solid though, and she's organized a very resourceful and informational site for those in support of equality on the marriage front.
Because I think anybody should be allowed to get married in Vegas and then have it annulled 55 hours later, godamnit!
Didn't have time to say anything about this when it actually happened, but YES!
Remember when Britney got married for like, 4 minutes, and everyone thought it was so funny? And how J. Lo keeps getting married and how Liz Taylor has been married about a million times and no one seems to mind? It's just more fodder for the tabloids. Well, why can't gay couples do that too? You see, Britney's 30 second nuptials don't exactly shout "preservation of the sanctity of marriage" to me. However, my friend's uncles, together for 38 years or so, have a relationship that I could aspire to.
My parents have been married 37 years. I have very few friends who still have their original set of parents. In the last few years, I've come to realize that I know of quite a few gay couples who have been together over 10 years, some more than 20. And I have a few friends with a gay parent who has been with their partner much, much longer than that.
Anyway, check out Margaret Cho's Marriage Equality website. I used to not be able to stand this chick, but I now realize it's just her comedy routines I don't care for. Her political views are pretty solid though, and she's organized a very resourceful and informational site for those in support of equality on the marriage front.
Because I think anybody should be allowed to get married in Vegas and then have it annulled 55 hours later, godamnit!
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Goin' Up To Country
I have a wacky yet endearing friendship with a certain movie exec type most people lovingly refer to as The Dude... You get a guy drunk in a bar once (and I didn't get him a single White Russian) and play some good music, and he's your pal for life. Well, he's doing what he does best: getting his friends to push his films for him! But this one means a lot to me, because it's all about re-defeating Bush. So spread the word. I know this movie is opening this weekend in LA, and a big showing will help it get to more screens when it's released nationwide.
**************************************
You should know when GOING UP RIVER : THE LONG WAR OF JOHN KERRY was tested with people who were neither Kerry or Bush supporters-- 79% of them said that they were profoundly moved, they changed their minds about Kerry's character and ability to lead and they would definitely recommend it to a friend. This movie exposes the lies of the SWIFT BOAT VETERANS FOR TRUTH character assassination and much more.
It opens this Friday October 1 in theaters nationwide
website: www.jeffdowd.com
dontgimmenoshitbecause...
Okay, I've got a lot of friends who are artists, mostly musicians. Sometimes I am lucky enough to actually like what they do. Sometimes not, which is tricky. And sometimes, I think I'm not into their stuff, and this later bites me in the ass.
Take my friend's band, Cool Dry Place. I was very pleasantly surprised to see my friend do an acoustic show and liked his songs, but electric could be a whole different beast. I checked the website, gave a listen, and it wasn't bad. Didn't floor me, but wasn't bad. Then I got the demo and thought the same thing.
Cool Dry Place is indie rock, as we'd say today. If I were to guess what they listened to growing up, which later became the foundation for the music they created... Well, then I'd guess The Police (Ghost in the Machine era), Inxs, XTC and Talking Heads. Not that they sound like any of those bands, I just hear bits of it in the music. And the singer reminds me of Joe Jackson. Sometimes. So take that and funnel it through Archers of Loaf, maybe, and you've got something like Cool Dry Place.
So, like I was saying, I wasn't totally wowed by the demo, but I liked it. Then I saw the boys live again, all electric this time, and I really dug it. Like REALLY dug it. I realized the songs were creeping into my brain like that nasty worm thing that made people turn bad in "The Wrath of Khan." I started listening to the demo again. Pretty soon, I was listening to two of those songs on my whole hour long drive home. (FYI: they were "Leaving For Good" and "Saturday Night." And "Sick Twisted & Wonderful" is a lovely warped version of some song you slow danced to at arm's length in junior high.)
Give the band a listen and let me know what you think. I'm going to see them again at the Derby here in LA this Saturday, October 2nd. They need a crowd, so if you like what you hear, come down. Help me figure out why I'm starting to love them!
Take my friend's band, Cool Dry Place. I was very pleasantly surprised to see my friend do an acoustic show and liked his songs, but electric could be a whole different beast. I checked the website, gave a listen, and it wasn't bad. Didn't floor me, but wasn't bad. Then I got the demo and thought the same thing.
Cool Dry Place is indie rock, as we'd say today. If I were to guess what they listened to growing up, which later became the foundation for the music they created... Well, then I'd guess The Police (Ghost in the Machine era), Inxs, XTC and Talking Heads. Not that they sound like any of those bands, I just hear bits of it in the music. And the singer reminds me of Joe Jackson. Sometimes. So take that and funnel it through Archers of Loaf, maybe, and you've got something like Cool Dry Place.
So, like I was saying, I wasn't totally wowed by the demo, but I liked it. Then I saw the boys live again, all electric this time, and I really dug it. Like REALLY dug it. I realized the songs were creeping into my brain like that nasty worm thing that made people turn bad in "The Wrath of Khan." I started listening to the demo again. Pretty soon, I was listening to two of those songs on my whole hour long drive home. (FYI: they were "Leaving For Good" and "Saturday Night." And "Sick Twisted & Wonderful" is a lovely warped version of some song you slow danced to at arm's length in junior high.)
Give the band a listen and let me know what you think. I'm going to see them again at the Derby here in LA this Saturday, October 2nd. They need a crowd, so if you like what you hear, come down. Help me figure out why I'm starting to love them!
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Rock Me, Joe
"Vamos a jugar por la playa..." - the Pixies
I can no longer speak, so it's time to write. For the last week, I have been on a pilgrimage. A Pixies pilgrimage, to be exact. 5 shows in 5 days. I used to do it back in the day, and ten years later I had to test myself to see if I could still do it... And yes, I was still leaping in the air (partially buoyed by someone else's shoulder, of course) as the refrains of "Gigantic" closed out the last show Sunday afternoon.
I'm not one of those people who notes every setlist of every show, although, considering I've seen approximately 35 Pixies shows in my lifetime, those setlists would be very interesting to compare. I generally don't even remember what they do from show to show. I like to think that I just get so into it that I'm sort of in a Pixies induced fog.
I went to the two shows here in Los Angeles, the drove up to Berkeley to catch the three shows there. The two shows in Los Angeles were great, the crowd SUCKED. This is often the case with shows in LA, as a lot of the people who go seem to be there so they can say they were there as opposed to wanting to rock out. There was a row of men standing next to me the first night, arms crossed, cupping their chins. Pondering, no doubt, what "looking like an erotic vulture" entailed. On the other side of us were two teenagers thrashing about like there was no tomorrow. Go girls! The LA show was also an assigned seats affair, with a small area right in front of the stage for a select group to stand around. And stand around they did. To the Pixies, fer chrissakes!
The Berkeley shows were completely different animals. Smaller venue, general admission, and a big floor area for people to mosh around in. The crowd sang along loudly to every song, and just about everybody I looked at had a huge grin on his/ her face. Lots of jumping around. I only got clocked badly upside the head once. Some bruises, not many.
I can, this time, tell you pretty much what they played... since it's still fresh (somewhat) in my mind. Sometimes they would start slow, sometimes they'd start rowdy as hell. Over the course of 5 days, I heard "Debaser," "Gouge Away," "Caribou," "Cactus," "Broken Face," "Bone Machine," "U-Mass," "Subbacultcha," "Nimrod's Son" (slow and fast), "Wave of Mutilation" (regular and surf - and they played both each show), "Planet of Sound," "Is She Weird," "Winterlong," "Mr. Grieves," "Into the White," "Tame," "Dead," "Isla de Encanta," "Crackity Jones," "Hey," "No. 13 Baby," "Here Comes Your Man," "Holiday Song," "Bam Thwok,""Velouria," "Monkey Gone to Heaven," "Ed Is Dead," "Something Against You," "Blown Away," "In Heaven," and of course, "Where Is My Mind" and "Gigantic." This was basically the setlist in some order or another - give or take a song or two.
I went with my best friend in Los Angeles. He & I used to see the Pixies all the time - we were together at the riot caused by a shoe hitting Perry Farrel in the head (the Pixies had opened for Jane's Addiction) at the Palladium which resulted in my broken foot. I went to the shows in Berkeley with my little brother. His first concert (which I took him to) was when he was 14 years old... we saw the Pixies in 1989, touring for Doolittle, with Bob Mould opening.
They sounded incredible. Like not a day or year or decade or hard feelings had passed. All I can say is... thank you.
And hope I get my voice back soon.
I can no longer speak, so it's time to write. For the last week, I have been on a pilgrimage. A Pixies pilgrimage, to be exact. 5 shows in 5 days. I used to do it back in the day, and ten years later I had to test myself to see if I could still do it... And yes, I was still leaping in the air (partially buoyed by someone else's shoulder, of course) as the refrains of "Gigantic" closed out the last show Sunday afternoon.
I'm not one of those people who notes every setlist of every show, although, considering I've seen approximately 35 Pixies shows in my lifetime, those setlists would be very interesting to compare. I generally don't even remember what they do from show to show. I like to think that I just get so into it that I'm sort of in a Pixies induced fog.
I went to the two shows here in Los Angeles, the drove up to Berkeley to catch the three shows there. The two shows in Los Angeles were great, the crowd SUCKED. This is often the case with shows in LA, as a lot of the people who go seem to be there so they can say they were there as opposed to wanting to rock out. There was a row of men standing next to me the first night, arms crossed, cupping their chins. Pondering, no doubt, what "looking like an erotic vulture" entailed. On the other side of us were two teenagers thrashing about like there was no tomorrow. Go girls! The LA show was also an assigned seats affair, with a small area right in front of the stage for a select group to stand around. And stand around they did. To the Pixies, fer chrissakes!
The Berkeley shows were completely different animals. Smaller venue, general admission, and a big floor area for people to mosh around in. The crowd sang along loudly to every song, and just about everybody I looked at had a huge grin on his/ her face. Lots of jumping around. I only got clocked badly upside the head once. Some bruises, not many.
I can, this time, tell you pretty much what they played... since it's still fresh (somewhat) in my mind. Sometimes they would start slow, sometimes they'd start rowdy as hell. Over the course of 5 days, I heard "Debaser," "Gouge Away," "Caribou," "Cactus," "Broken Face," "Bone Machine," "U-Mass," "Subbacultcha," "Nimrod's Son" (slow and fast), "Wave of Mutilation" (regular and surf - and they played both each show), "Planet of Sound," "Is She Weird," "Winterlong," "Mr. Grieves," "Into the White," "Tame," "Dead," "Isla de Encanta," "Crackity Jones," "Hey," "No. 13 Baby," "Here Comes Your Man," "Holiday Song," "Bam Thwok,""Velouria," "Monkey Gone to Heaven," "Ed Is Dead," "Something Against You," "Blown Away," "In Heaven," and of course, "Where Is My Mind" and "Gigantic." This was basically the setlist in some order or another - give or take a song or two.
I went with my best friend in Los Angeles. He & I used to see the Pixies all the time - we were together at the riot caused by a shoe hitting Perry Farrel in the head (the Pixies had opened for Jane's Addiction) at the Palladium which resulted in my broken foot. I went to the shows in Berkeley with my little brother. His first concert (which I took him to) was when he was 14 years old... we saw the Pixies in 1989, touring for Doolittle, with Bob Mould opening.
They sounded incredible. Like not a day or year or decade or hard feelings had passed. All I can say is... thank you.
And hope I get my voice back soon.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Happy House
The other night I went to see Siouxsie & the Banshees. But that's not all. I went to Disneyland too. And California Adventure. All in the same place, kinda. All within the "Disneyland Resort." Siouxsie was playing at the House of Blues, Anaheim - otherwise known as Downtown Disney. Really. I'm not joking.
I've been to Disneyland a HELL of a lot. My best friend works for the film studio, so pretty much his only perk is getting in for free and discounts on the food. (Not on the booze served in the California Adventure, mind you.) Disneyland is totally worth it for free and with discounts on the "food."
We rode Big Thunder Mountain, and lived. This is actually quite an accomplishment because a guy died on it about a year ago, and they've had two accidents since it reopened at the beginning of the summer. While it was closed, it was completely surrounded by a high wall covered with old western style drawings of horses and trivia about them. Total denial in the happiest place on earth.
Loads of stuff in Disneyland was closed because of its impending 50th anniversary, so we spent more time in the California Adventure park, which has a real live rollercoaster and actual alcohol. You can go upside down and get a margarita - no nos in Disneyland proper. Actually, the rollercoaster in this park is one of the best ones I've ever been on, and I'm an afficionado of rollercoasters. And the margarita is probably one of the weakest I've ever been served. Go figure.
There is also a ride in California Adventure called Superstar Limo, in the Hollywood section, of course. You are the superstar, and you are late to your first premiere! Heavens no! So the limo races past a sea of has been animatronic celebrities (Whoopee Goldberg, Drew Carey) until "If I Could Turn Back Time" era Cher waves at you and goes limp just as you approach her. Guess her timing is off... anyway, that ride, sadly, was closed.
We wound up at the House of Blues watching the happy goths enter to worship at the altar of Siouxsie. My friend and I were wearing yellow and beige with our jeans; I think there was maybe a total of 6 or 7 people out of the 500 or so there not wearing black. (We're such non conformists.) We also knew that we were most likely listening to Siouxsie before half the people there had even been born. Siouxsie came out in a very cool black and red chinese robe thing and her trademark eyes/ eyebrows and a nice feathery explosion/ hair clip kept her hair pulled back. She did some of her patented Siouxsie dance moves (lots of twirling and glaring) and at one point said, "Here we are... at Disssssssneyland. Disneyland. You know, we planned our whole tour so that we could play here at Disneyland. Welcome to the Fourth Reich!" Siouxsie is such a doll. She also dedicated the Creatures track, "Standing There," to any Disney employees in attendance. "Hey Creepos - I'm talking to you!" I didn't out my friend; I told him to feel lucky that she sang a song just for him.
The show was great fun; she looked and sounded excellent. They've been doing this for nearly 30 years, I'd hope they could put on a good show by now! She & Budgie were having fun and goofing around a lot. I think they take lots of happy pills these days, because there were no sad goths on that stage.
I've been to Disneyland a HELL of a lot. My best friend works for the film studio, so pretty much his only perk is getting in for free and discounts on the food. (Not on the booze served in the California Adventure, mind you.) Disneyland is totally worth it for free and with discounts on the "food."
We rode Big Thunder Mountain, and lived. This is actually quite an accomplishment because a guy died on it about a year ago, and they've had two accidents since it reopened at the beginning of the summer. While it was closed, it was completely surrounded by a high wall covered with old western style drawings of horses and trivia about them. Total denial in the happiest place on earth.
Loads of stuff in Disneyland was closed because of its impending 50th anniversary, so we spent more time in the California Adventure park, which has a real live rollercoaster and actual alcohol. You can go upside down and get a margarita - no nos in Disneyland proper. Actually, the rollercoaster in this park is one of the best ones I've ever been on, and I'm an afficionado of rollercoasters. And the margarita is probably one of the weakest I've ever been served. Go figure.
There is also a ride in California Adventure called Superstar Limo, in the Hollywood section, of course. You are the superstar, and you are late to your first premiere! Heavens no! So the limo races past a sea of has been animatronic celebrities (Whoopee Goldberg, Drew Carey) until "If I Could Turn Back Time" era Cher waves at you and goes limp just as you approach her. Guess her timing is off... anyway, that ride, sadly, was closed.
We wound up at the House of Blues watching the happy goths enter to worship at the altar of Siouxsie. My friend and I were wearing yellow and beige with our jeans; I think there was maybe a total of 6 or 7 people out of the 500 or so there not wearing black. (We're such non conformists.) We also knew that we were most likely listening to Siouxsie before half the people there had even been born. Siouxsie came out in a very cool black and red chinese robe thing and her trademark eyes/ eyebrows and a nice feathery explosion/ hair clip kept her hair pulled back. She did some of her patented Siouxsie dance moves (lots of twirling and glaring) and at one point said, "Here we are... at Disssssssneyland. Disneyland. You know, we planned our whole tour so that we could play here at Disneyland. Welcome to the Fourth Reich!" Siouxsie is such a doll. She also dedicated the Creatures track, "Standing There," to any Disney employees in attendance. "Hey Creepos - I'm talking to you!" I didn't out my friend; I told him to feel lucky that she sang a song just for him.
The show was great fun; she looked and sounded excellent. They've been doing this for nearly 30 years, I'd hope they could put on a good show by now! She & Budgie were having fun and goofing around a lot. I think they take lots of happy pills these days, because there were no sad goths on that stage.
Monday, September 20, 2004
Twist & Crawl
I said “Pretend you’ve got no money,"
She just laughed and said “Oh, you’re so funny!”
I said “Yeah ? Well, I can’t see anyone else smiling in here..."
-Pulp "Common People"
Welcome to my life. Actually, welcome to a hell of a lot of our lives.
She just laughed and said “Oh, you’re so funny!”
I said “Yeah ? Well, I can’t see anyone else smiling in here..."
-Pulp "Common People"
Welcome to my life. Actually, welcome to a hell of a lot of our lives.
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