Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Random Thoughts: Vexed in the City

Don’t ask where this came from. If you hop aboard my train of thought all I can guarantee you is a derailment… I anticipated that my first post back from vacation would be about something I saw or did whilst out of town. A movie I watched, a book I read, a meal I ate, a wine I purchased, a slot machine I lost at, etc. To be honest, I haven’t yet been in that reflective place. Don’t get me wrong, there were some great things about my exploration of the west with CSD Julie, but I have not yet quite gathered my thoughts in that ‘write a blog post’ way as of yet.

I have however, gone off on a tangent this morning.

Is there a more dysfunctional relationship than the one between New Yorkers and New York City?

From working with, talking with, and witnessing first hand the wily New Yorker in their native environment, I have come to the conclusion that unlike anywhere else in the world, living in New York City shares a close bond with the following:

1. Being trapped in a loveless marriage
2. Spending the rest of your days happily ever after with your soul mate
3. Surviving in the world’s largest family
4. Ruling the world
5. Eating 5-star meals, morning, noon, and night
6. Contracting bowel-shaking food poisoning on a weekly basis

Notice the dichotomy? I realize, I was pretty subtle there… Feel free to read it again if you need to… Yep, there’s some opposites in there, but every single one of them seems to apply when considering a life in New York.

First off, I also fully recognize that a non New Yorker writing about living in New York is about as popular as Carrot Top performing in blackface, but the subject of New York from a New Yorker’s point of view has been explored to death. The subject of visiting New York from the outside has equally been trod into a finely worn path, but I cannot recall ever reading a non New Yorker’s view on what it must be like to live in the city. Why, you ask, do I feel I have that right? Honestly, I don’t, but the thought has been kicking me in the ass for a few weeks now, so I’m just getting it out there. Besides, upon visiting New York my first goal is always to look as little like a tourist as I possibly can. As a matter of fact, my favorite New York moment occurred on my last visit, when I was stopped in Central Park by a couple of mid-westerners asking me for directions. At that moment I knew ‘oh yeah, I could be a New Yorker, provided I could spend my days wandering the streets and not, you know, *working*’

Back to my point. Let me examine the above New York states of mind…

Being trapped in a loveless marriage- No matter the time of day or night, no matter the month of the year, the year of the decade, or the decade of the century, the noise in New York City never quite stops. Like a nagging spouse over your shoulder, 24 hours a day, New York is always expecting more from you while refusing to give the moment of piece you so richly crave. Just as it seems the city is opening it’s arms for you, giving you your every desire, you get mugged, or hit by a taxi, or it starts to rain even though it’s 95 degrees out. New York give you nothing unconditionally.

Spending the rest of your days happily ever after with your soul mate- It’s not all gloom and doom. From virtually any spot in Manhattan you are within walking distance of great food, world class entertainment, culture, shopping, and landmarks. Taken as a whole, the city is a love letter to the American dream. Anything you can imagine is not only possible in New York, it likely already exists. New York is saying ‘I will give you everything you’ve ever wanted, and all I ask in return is that you take it from me.’ Isn’t that how we all want our romances to go? Perfection is for suckers, real love is 24 hour pizza parlors and an unfathomably hot cup of deli coffee on a chilly, wet spring morning.

Surviving in the world’s largest family: New Yorkers relate to each other both as enemies, and comrades in arms. They will at once steal each other’s seats on the subway, yell, honk, and curse at each other, while still defending one another to the death from outsiders. Like siblings, they are free to beat and mock each other mercilessly, but anyone not from the city is strictly forbidden from the familial bonding. New York is not unique in this camaraderie, but it may be more stern in it’s practice than most other places in the world. This is not a product of September 11th either, just ask former Atlanta Braves pitcher and all around jerk-off John Rocker…

Ruling the world: If a tree fell in the woods, how would it effect traffic on the Long Island Expressway? In California, we are taught to be global citizens. In foreign countries, it is imperative to know what your neighbors, and what the United States is doing. In New York, there is only New York. I am not saying that New Yorker’s are not aware of the world around them, because in many ways they are far more connected than a lot of other parts of our great nation. The difference is New York views the rest of the world like a weather report. Wars, famines, floods, ethnic cleansing, devastating earthquakes, violent uprisings, Toyotathon, New York knows of all of these events, because New Yorkers need to know if they need to wear a jacket out to Chelsea Piers.

Eating 5-Star Meals, morning, noon, and night: True on both a literal, and figurative level, everything you want you can find in New York. Peruvian cuisine, knock off handbags, skyscrapers that pierce the heavens and mock God himself, a hot dog stand every 14 feet, used vinyl in both record and clothing form, art, books, movies, music, parades, parks, history, everything but a parking space. New Yorkers, like natives of any cultural center, tend to be numb to the greatness of the city while still being acutely aware that they are privy to an experience few of us in the rest of the world will ever understand. How I long for midnight pastrami and wish for a 24 Hour Deli in my small corner of suburbia. Alas, this is the price I pay for being able to safely stow my car.

Contracting bowel-shaking food poisoning on a weekly basis: As much joy and reverence as I gain from visiting New York, attempting to blend seamlessly with the native throng, the pace of life, the constant noise, the lack of traffic laws, the amount of foot traffic, the high cost of living, the overwhelming sense of being surrounded by a machine much larger than yourself, and the ever vigilant side stepping to keep from becoming grist in it’s mills, there is nothing like stepping off a plane back in Southern California. Living in the city, I wonder when and if the denizens of the grand Metropolis ever get a chance to exhale. Like overloading on grease at the state fair, or one too many street side falafels there is such a thing as too much of a good thing…

Well, that was cathartic, and will give me a chance to see if anyone from the city reads this blog… If so, I’m sure I’ll be sufficiently flogged for overstepping my non New Yorker bounds, but the next time I’m in the city, I dare you to recognize me as a tourist… I’ll get back to my usual film/music/book fascinations soon enough. I just had to indulge the demon chomping on my cerebrum. Hay, maybe by the time I take a vacation elsewhere I’ll be ready to write about Las Vegas…

Friday, July 11, 2008

Enjoy the next 10 days folks!


This marks post #30, and the last one before I take off for vacation...

Enjoy life, eat out more often.

Don't take any wooden nickels.

Never rub another man's rhubarb.

Always bet on black.

Never put salt in your eye.

Stay Classy, San Diego.

Rock it like Joyce...

Thursday, July 10, 2008

6:00 On A Christmas Morning…

So is it just me, or has this week been interminably long? It seems like I’ve been here at work for the last 314 days straight. I’m sure it couldn’t have anything to do with the fact I’m going on vacation next week… Speaking of things that seemingly go on forever driving one to madness, I’m currently listening to some Dream Theater (Hence, the name of the post). Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘but OCK, I never pictured you as a prog-rock geek… Do you have long flowing hair and posters of unicorns on your bedroom walls?’ I’m sorry to disappoint, but the answer to both those questions is sadly no… Cruise Ship Director Julie has instituted a ‘no unicorn’ zone in the inner sanctum, and besides, you don’t have to obsess over which incarnation of Thor is closest to the original Nordic myth to enjoy progressive rock. (BTW, It's the one to the right, if you're still debating...) Prog-rock can be for everybody, at least everybody with a good amount of patience and a minimum of 12 minutes to devote to each song…

I feel it is my duty as an unknown Internet babbler and lover of all things Prog to convince ‘mainstream’ music listeners that you don’t have to play D&D in your mom’s basement to enjoy the likes of Yes, Dream Theater, Genesis, Spock’s Beard, King Crimson, Liquid Tension Experiment, etc. You too could make Prog-rock the music for ‘cool kids’ all you have to do is find the RIGHT prog-rock. I’m the first to tell you, if you pick up a random mid 70’s Yes album, say Tales From Topographic Oceans, the first thing you’ll notice is the Tolkienesque scripting on the album cover. I can totally understand that you may very well want to drop the album immediately and run for the nearest television showing a sporting event before your shirt spontaneously starts sprouting the words ‘Live At Budokan’ across the back… First and foremost, I highly suggest you don’t judge an album by it’s cover. Secondly, if you are not heavily into prog-rock already, I suggest you avoid TFTO the same way a beginning reader would want to avoid War and Peace. Accept the fact that you may NEVER want to listen to a 20 minute track entitled The Revealing Science of God - Dance of the Dawn. That’s OK, contrary to popular belief, one can enjoy SOME prog-rock, without enjoying ALL prog-rock… Instead, start with one of these 5 albums, you’ll be glad you did, and maybe, just maybe you’ll pick up a new musical obsession… Maybe you’ll grow out your hair, maybe you’ll decide to start your own witches coven, or perhaps build your own Viking ship… More likely, you’ll just add some additional great music to your large and varied collection.

1. Genesis- The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway
If you are like me, and I know I am, you probably enjoy both music, AND movies… I’d go so far as to say that if you DIDN’T enjoy both music, AND movies, you probably wouldn’t be reading this right now… I don’t mean to take liberties with your personal tastes, but I feel this is a limb I can safely go out on. If I have overstepped my bounds, I would apologize, but since you’re on the other end of a computer, it’s not like you’d hear my anyway.

For those who ARE willing to admit that they enjoy music, AND movies, why not listen to an album that plays like both music AND a movie? That’s an easy question to answer, there’s absolutely NO reason not to, not a single one… Except, maybe you don’t have an hour and a half to devote to an album the way you would to watching Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo for the 12th time… If that’s the case, I can’t help you, but I can suggest a couple of great stand alone tracks to throw on your next iPod mix that may get you in the mood to give this full album a listen so you can fully experience the tale of New York born Rael on his quest to save his brother, and himself from a lifetime of captivity in a strange new world…

· The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway- The album’s title track has been covered many, many times throughout prog-rock history, but the original Peter Gabriel vocal stylings just can’t be reproduced. Aside from being the best for stand alone listening, this track also gives you a good intro to what the rest of the album is all about, and it’s under 5 minutes, that’s shorter than most prog-rock Moog solos…

· In The Cage- So when you think Genesis, you may think of soft-pop ballads like Invisible Touch, Hold On My Heart, or Taking It All Too Hard. While you wouldn’t be totally wrong, there was a time in which Genesis was more rock than pop, and that time was called the 70’s… Few tracks capture this hard edge quite like In The Cage. Think more organ and guitar that synthesizer and tambourine on this one…

· The Colony of Slippermen: The Arrival/A Visit to the Doktor/The Raven- At some point, if you’re going to give prog-rock a shot, you’re going to have to listen to a epic story song broken into multiple parts. You could go with Jethro Tull’s 45 minute long Thick as a Brick, or you could stick with Pete and the boys and enjoy 8 minutes learning about the land of the Slippermen… Your reaction will likely lie someplace between ‘vaguely rockin’ and ‘man those dudes were high’. Either, and both are appropriate responses, and a pretty good summary of what prog-rock is all about.

2. Dream Theater- A Change Of Seasons
Now that you’ve been baptized into prog-rock glory, maybe you’re thinking ‘I’m all about living in the past, but that album is like, 33 years old… Isn’t there something just a LITTLE bit newer out there?’ Yes, yes Internet, there is most certainly something just a little bit newer out there. 20 years newer to be exact. 1995 brought us a prime textbook example of prog-rock greatness in the form of Dream Theater’s A Change of Seasons. Don’t believe me? Let’s just say the album is over an hour long, but only contains 5 tracks…

A Change Of Seasons- The opening title track is a seven part medley that clocks in at roughly 23 minutes, but don’t be intimidated, it breaks up nicely for listening, and there is no Iron Butterfly-esque 15 minute guitar solo or 3 minute long drum interlude to be found. The All Music Guide Review calls this track ‘one of the most impressive pieces of music ever written in the progressive metal vein.’ I personally feel that might be a bit overstated, but if you’re going to pass judgement on prog-rock one way or the other, you should give this track a listen. If you enjoy it, you’re probably going to enjoy a good number of other prog-rock tunes. If you don’t enjoy it, this is not the genre for you…

The other 4 tracks on the album are progged-up cover tunes of 70’s standards that in many ways are superior to the originals, if nothing else, because they blend together so well with other era hits. The Big Medley is a welcome addition to any classic-rock themed iTunes playlist, as long as you’re not loathe to include modern cover tunes in with classic originals. I’m of two minds on this topic. For the most part I avoid modern covers like a zombie plague, but I make a few exceptions, and one of them is for Dream Theater.

3. Pink Floyd- The Wall
People who like Pink Floyd, but do not like Yes tend to refuse to accept that Pink Floyd is prog-rock. People who like Yes and do not like Pink Floyd tend to agree. People who fall into either of these categories are hopelessly wrong. I fully agree that Pink Floyd and Yes are not the same band… I would go so far as to say if Yes opened for Pink Floyd, they may get beer bottles tossed at them until they stop just 6 minutes into Roundabout and are forced to leave the stage. Just like modern rock fans can enjoy The Killers and find The Strokes too studio enhanced and ‘posery’, prog-rock fans can enjoy the hard edged sulk of Pink Floyd’s epic coming of age in repressive Britain tale so succinctly captured in The Wall without owning your very own Lonely Heart.

If you’re not familiar with The Wall, I suggest changing that through the album, rather than the film. There’s nothing wrong with the film per-se, but I feel the imagery and magnified story telling for someone who has not already formed their own opinions about the music tends to push people into a particular direction that may not be the same as they direction they would naturally gravitate to with just the music alone. This belief is not specific to this album, or even to the genre of music vs. film. I tend to think the same is true of film adaptations of books. If nothing else, give the original media a chance to take hold before seeing what someone else’s vision is of it…

4. Side 2 of Abbey Road- The Beatles
By invoking the spirit of Floyd I came dangerously close to losing my ‘Prog-Rock Fan’ membership card, by bringing up The Beatles final recording, I’ve more or less set it on fire. I chose Abbey Road not as a means of labeling The Beatles a Prog-Rock band, but as an educational tool to show where the idea for an epic storied prog-rock album came from. The second side of Abbey Road has been cited by a litany of artists as influential musical story telling and was in my opinion a necessary step toward the prog-rock albums of the 70’s and beyond.

From Because through Her Majesty, The Beatles intertwine 9 separate tracks without a break in the music. In addition to the tracks running together, the same chords and tunes pop up throughout the ensemble, and even characters cross from one song to the next (we first meet Polythene Pam half way through Mean Mr. Mustard). Had this album been released during the prog-rock heyday of the mid 70’s, these individual songs likely would have been billed as one track, or course had this album not been released in 1969, prog-rock as we know it likely would have never existed… Just keep in mind, if you find yourself coming to the end of She Came In Through The Bathroom Window, gearing up for Ringo’s only drum solo committed to an album, you’re more than just a Beatles fan, you’re a prog-rock fan, like it or not.

5. LTE I- Liquid Tension Experiment
Whilst prog-purists are furiously typing away slanderous comments right now, threatening to avenge my soul with their 15th level Dwarves for sullying the beauty of their commercially disasterous rock genre by acknowledging the existence of The Beatles on the prog-rock timeline, other, less… ummm… passionate readers are probably thinking to themselves ‘hey, maybe this guy has a point… Maybe prog-rock isn’t just for those who like extended synth solos and hair-metal inspired guitar work taken seriously. I might just be a prog-rock fan afterall!’

If you’re a former, type away… no press is bad press. If you’re a latter, here’s your litmus test. Liquid Tension Experiment is a prog-rock supergroup made up of John Petrucci and Mike Portnoy, long time members of Dream Theater, Jordan Rudess, a newer DT denizen, and prog-rock giant Tony Levin known mostly for his work with King Crimson… The kicker is, it’s also all instrumental.

I’m a big fan of lyrics. I tend to enjoy music based more on the substance of the lyrics than the quality of the music behind them… Case in point, currently playing on my iPod is Kim Carnes’ Bette Davis Eyes, and I’m not enjoying it because of the synth-clap background of the non-threatening drum line laid ever so quietly in the background to keep Kim on point… I’m enjoying it because all the boys think she’s a spy… ‘cause she’s got Bette Davis eyes…

LTE hits on a specific point in my brain however that is usually reserved for especially well crafted movie soundtracks. The musical coagulation formed by replacing Kevin James LaBrie’s vocals with Levin’s bass lines makes me imagine the original Star Wars trilogy, only Han Solo is played by Shaft’s Richard Roundtree and Luke Skywalker’s character is replaced by Rudy Ray Moore’s Dolemite… ‘When I see a Storm Trooper, I cut the mutha fucka…’

If this doesn’t make you want to rush out and purchased a horned helmet and head for the enchanted lands of the Nordic gods, that I don’t know what will… Just remember, prog-rock is NOT a gateway to life as a jobless slacker in a cheez-whiz stained Porcupine Tree tour shirt, unless you want it to be… Keep on rockin’ for at least 20 minutes…

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Like Visiting An Old Friend

First and foremost, I make no apologies for this being my first post of the week. Consider yourself lucky that you haven't had to listen to my rambling nonsense for a couple of days... I'm pretty much in full on vacation mode, so I've had no desire to write about much of anything... That all changed last night though my friends... Why, you ask? Well I'm going to tell you why, right the eff now!!

I watched Chinatown last night for the first time in a good long while, and I was left wondering why I always seem to go so long between watchings. Sure, it’s not exactly the most happy-go-lucky of stories, but it certainly isn’t the kind of movie you’re glad to have seen, but never, ever want to watch again a la Apocalypse Now… For the most part, in spite of it’s very Polanskiesque twists and turns, it’s pretty standard film noir faire. If you take the film seriously, you will likely be quite disturbed by the whole plotline, and it’s eventual outcome, but if you look at it like a well made adaptation of a dime store novel, it’s a whole hell of a lot of fun…

Heads up, moving forward I do plan to talk about the movie, and in talking about the movie, will reveal the twists and turns referred to above, so if you decided to wait 34 years to try this one on and are afraid of having the film ruined, I suggest not reading any further. I also suggest you see films in a much more timely manner... It's not like we're talking about the Raul Julia TV movie Ace's Up or William Elliot's turn as Ken, a cop with a soft side in Hangup. His job was busting junkies, his mistake was loving one... Anyhow if you have seen the film, hopefully you will be inspired to watch it again. It’s worth another viewing just for Jack’s one-liners…

Author’s note: I’ve been trying to write a compact point by point write up of the plot of Chinatown for the last 45 minutes, and I’m only about a quarter of the way through the film. As a result, I’m going to skip the formal plot outline, and instead focus on some killer scenes that make this movie worth seeing. I’ll try and throw in as much context as possible, but it could be tough unless I make this post about 100,000 words long, and NOBODY wants that. I recognize that the best blog post falls someplace between 'long enough to kill some time off the clock at the end of a work day' and 'Holy shit, it's 4:00! I started reading this thing at 10am!'… Keeping that in mind, here's what you need to know to get the general idea of the film:

· LA is in a drought
· Jack Nicholson is a private dick
· There’s a scandalous conspiracy surrounding the water department
· John Houston makes for a very convincing old bastard
· Roman Polanski plays a knife wielding baddie who serves no real purpose except to wreak havoc
· Faye Dunaway’s character Evelyn Cross-Mulwray has had a seriously messed up life, and subsequently has a very gnarly family tree…

With these things in mind, I now present 5 reasons to go watch Chinatown again, or for the first time for those of you residing under rocks...

1. Jack Nicholson’s JJ Gittes is a badass.

Gittes is a hard boiled private dick, like those made famous by Humphrey Bogart a generation earlier. The big difference between Bogey and Jack? Jack’s not afraid to work blue, and he manages to find the comedy in life’s great tragedies… Early in the film, Gittes is snooping around the LA aqueduct after hours and gets caught by a fellow gun for hire and his slight associate. Instead of running for his life, begging for an apology, or trying to weasel his way out of the situation, Gittes says ‘Hiya Mulvihill, who’s the midget?’ Gittes soon learns ‘the midget’ portrayed by our director, Roman Polanski, is not a man to be trifled with. Polanski’s character, billed simply as ‘Man with Knife’ promptly sticks his switchblade in Gitte’s left nostril, and slices outward. Does Gittes scream and cry, nope, he simply cups his nose in his hands, tells the thugs he won’t be back, and goes on his merry way. Later in the flick he gets a chance to beat the hell out of Mulvihill, and finds opportunity to use the nose as comic relief. When talking with Mrs. Mulwray Gittes opines ‘But, Mrs. Mulwray, I goddamn near lost my nose. And I like it. I like breathing through it. And I still think you're hiding something.’ Still later when having a tête-à-tête with an LAPD detective, Gittes is asked what happened to his nose, but you won’t get a sob story from old Jake Gittes, instead he responds with ‘Your wife got excited. She crossed her legs a little too quick. You understand what I mean, pal?’

In all seriousness, aside from the running gags and sub-plot surrounding Gittes’ sliced nose, the scene itself where Polanski does the cutting is possibly one of the most realistic uses of violence ever committed to film. Aside from a small spurt of blood into Gittes’ eye, and his bloody hands from attempting to hold the wound closed, there is no fountain of gore, no gratuitous shots of flesh hanging from Jake’s face, no overreaction on the part of the victim or victimizer, and as a result, the wound seems even more painful and gruesome because of it’s realism.

2. John Houston, the man could do more than just direct.

If John Houston’s legacy was centered around nothing more than this film, he may have ended up one of the most hated actors in the history of Hollywood. From the outset, Houston’s Noah Cross seems like a kindly old retiree, trying to do the best he can with his fortune to better the city in which he loves. After all, he’s just trying to bring water to the people of Los Angeles. As the film unfolds however, we find that Cross isn’t really all that concerned about the citizens of Los Angeles, he’s far more concerned about amassing even more wealth, even more power, and ruining even more lives in the process. In the third act, we discover hat Cross has been purchasing large parcels of land in the San Fernando Valley, which he plans to irrigate with the water the citizens of Los Angeles will pay to bring to the area through a new dam project. We also find out that he was the one who killed his former business partner and son-in-law Hollis Mulwray, and most disturbing of all, we find out that Mulwray’s supposed lover was actually the offspring of incest between Cross and his then 15 year old daughter Evelyn.

As disturbing as the character is revealed to be, what really makes him so dastardly is the turn Houston takes in portraying him. Gone is the kindly old grandfatherly figure who seems to want to do one more good thing for the people of Los Angeles before his life is at an end, and instead Houston seems to capture the true greed and degradation of the character more through facial mannerisms and inflection that through his lines themselves. We find that his true reasoning for wanting Gittes to find his son-in-law’s concubine was because he knew the girl was his daughter, the daughter his first child had hidden from him so he could not damage her the way she had been.

3. Great Film Noir Styling with 70’s Era Storytelling

The ultimate resolution of Chinatown, and the way the whole film unfolds could not have been told in the same way in any era of film before or since. Polanski’s film making, coupled with Towne’s writing captured lightening in a bottle that fit perfectly in the high violence, high kink era of 70’s film making. Combining that with classic film noir characterizations and set design gives the whole film the feel of a true Dashiell Hammett noir novel rather than the more watered down films of the Hays Code era. I certainly do not wish to take away anything from the earlier noir films in which Chinatown is based, but the openness of both Hollywood and film going audiences of the 70’s allowed Chinatown to be told in all it’s gritty and exploitative glory. Many of the earlier noirs implied similar story lines of incest, far reaching government corruption, and characterized the hard living private eye lifestyle, but none of them opened the book as widely as Chinatown did, more because of society’s views at the time than because of the film maker’s desires to stop short of telling the whole story.

Ultimately, the same could be said today. We are now in an age of film that many film makers are concerned with having their films branded too gratuitous, or hyper realistic. Film makers are finding ways to cut corners to not truly express the evils that men do, and instead imply the horror. In some ways this adds an additional element to the films in question as our minds always conjure up more depraved and salacious acts than a screen writer could ever envision, but there is something so simple, so direct, and so menacing about Polanski’s willingness do display the incest plotline in Chinatown, and Houston’s willingness to embrace it as an actor, that we just do not see in film today. I’m yet to decide if that is a bad thing or a good thing, but for whatever it’s worth, it’s a thing…

4. A Solution To The Theory Of Proper Plot Twists

As I mentioned at the very beginning of this post, it is almost impossible to commit to a full write up of Chinatown without revisiting virtually every scene in the film. As a matter of fact, I’m about 4/5th of the way through the write up I decided to do, and I’m roughly as far as I was with the review I scrapped because I was only about half an hour into the film when outlining the whole plot. Some may see this as overly complicated, creating plot twists just for the sake of plot twists. I could not disagree more. There are examples of films out there that tried to do too much with the story and left the viewers thinking ‘What?’ The most classic example that comes to mind is The Big Sleep. It has been said that not even the actors could explain what the film was really about. There are also films that have sub-plots that are designed to throw the audience in one direction while the actual story heads in another. A prime example of that device can be found in Pulp Fiction. So many people, especially those who study film, will debate ‘what’s in the briefcase?’ At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter what’s in the briefcase. The briefcase is not the central plot device, it’s more of an homage to noir past, and an extra twist to keep the audience wondering what’s going to come next.

For the most part, the twists and turns in Chinatown do reach fruition. The overarching story of corruption in the water department ultimately takes a back seat to the struggles of the Cross/Mulwray family and their personal tragedies, but without it, there is no conflict to spark the murder of Mulwray, Gittes’ involvement in the story, or the eventual uncovering of Cross’ improprieties, so it does serve a very necessary purpose beyond shifting the focus of the audience. The only plot point that is not fully developed, leaving the audience wondering about the film long past the last reel, is what actually happened to Gittes in Chinatown, all those years past? This is where Polanski allows the audience to use their imagination conjuring a story far more twisted and evil than anything Towne could have penned.

5. Polanski’s Wrap Up

Those who have only seen Chinatown once or twice and never really looked any deeper into the film would be surprised to find out that the original script did not end in tragedy. Gittes is the hero, Evelyn and her daughter find peace beyond the clutches of Noah Cross, and good triumphs over evil. Unfortunately for Roman Polanski, the story of good triumphing over evil was not based in reality. Polanski was born to Polish parents who were both imprisoned in Nazi concentration camps, his mother dying there. Young Roman was forced to flee from his family, taking refuge with various Catholic families through Poland to avoid his own imprisonment and possible death in spite of the fact he was not yet even a teenager. As most people know, the tragedies did not stop when Polanski reached adulthood. Chinatown was his return to directing after the murder of his wife, Sharon Tate at the hands of the Manson family 5 years earlier. Considering the life of pain and loss he had lived up to this point, it is no surprise that Polanski chose to take the script in a darker direction.

In the culminating scene, all the major players in the film gather outside a Mulwray servant’s quarters in the titular Chinatown. Evelyn and her daughter Kathrine are fleeing the city, on their way to Ensenada, Mexico to escape the clutches of both the law, and Noah Cross. Gittes leads Cross to Chinatown in an effort to expose him to the police, whom he knows will be hot on Evelyn’s trail. Gittes’ plan seems to be coming together perfectly, except you never know how a situation is going to play out in Chinatown… Evelyn confronts her father, telling him he will never have a chance to do to Kathrine what he did to her, Gittes is arrested on site for aiding Evelyn in alluding the police, who are there to arrest her for the murder of her husband. Gittes explains to the police that it’s really Noah Cross who killed Hollis Mulwray, not Evelyn, but they will have none of it. Evelyn speeds off in a convertible, with her daughter at her side, the police open fire on the car, attempting to disable it. Instead, one of the bullets hits Evelyn in the head, killing her instantly.

Wishing to cover up the murder, the police let Gittes and his associates go free, and Kathrine ends up in the care of her father/grandfather, Noah Cross. Nothing works out in the good guys favor, and we are all reminded poignantly of this by the look on Kathrine’s face as Cross is dragging her from the car. From this glance we can see she is not just horrified by seeing her mother’s lifeless body slumped over the steering wheel, but also because she knows what horrors await her now the she is under the care of Noah Cross.

This is ultimately how the film HAS to end. Any other conclusion would not be true to what we all know of the life and times of Roman Polanski before and since it’s making. Chinatown works on so many levels. It is a historically based fiction piece on the founding of Los Angeles, a more modernized version of the highly entertaining genre of Noir Cinema, and with the benefit if hindsight, even works as a slightly disjointed documentary on the life of it’s director. There are no happy endings, lifelong loves die, children are destined to experience loss and suffering, and the rich and powerful will always win out over the forgotten masses. Let it be said, I do not condone Polanski’s actions later in life. There is no good excuse for grown man to be involved with a thirteen year old girl, and as a human being, his failures certainly out number his accomplishments. However; as a film maker, he achieved two grand successes with this film, and the earlier Rosemary’s Baby. Some people may have a hard time separating the man from his work, and that is wholly understandable. I, do not…

In a nutshell, go watch yourself some Chinatown, and look out for your nose…

For more detailed write up on the film, and how it connects to LA's history, go here...

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Happy Birthday, America!

Been busy @ work the last few days, and will be busy drinking and playing whiffle ball tomorrow, just as our forefathers envisioned... In the mean time, here's a weak post I wrote a few days ago and just hadn't had the time or desire to put up... I figure, I wasted half an hour writing it, I might as well put it online for others to mock and cackle at...

Yes, I know my participle is dangling...

Name That Band

Welcome to July! It’s a whole new month here at The Dance, a month where your friendly webierhood blogger will get a little bit older, and take a nice long vacation to the lands of Sin City and... someplace else... Wine Country may be out of the question since it's all on fire and stuff... Maybe Arizona instead, and a month that we’ll kick off with a brand new kind of post…

If you’ve read a good number of entries on this site, you’re probably thinking to yourself ‘Man, this OCKerouac guy doesn’t seem to put ANY thought or effort into the stuff he writes… He pretty much just craps his soul all over his keyboard and then expects me to read it… What a loser!’ The thing is, you’re only kind of right… Sure, I am kind of a loser, no complaints there, but past that, I actually do put in at least a minimum of research into my ramblings from sources as varied as IMDB and Wikipedia… I KNOW! How can one man do so much in so little time? I really am quite amazing, I assure you... Occasionally, I’ll even visit a band’s official website, though often this leads to purchasing music, which leads to trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with ‘B’ and that stands for Broke…

My mostly mindless and completely worthless point is that I typically DO put more effort into a post than one would expect from the finished product… I’m not looking for sympathy, or acknowledgement, I’m just making a point to show how THIS post will differ from MOST posts… Namely, this post is nothing more than my own sick and twisted inner workings… It’s not based on a movie, or an album, or something I read someplace that made me do a thing that was kind of like this one time that I thought I should write about or anything… It’s just me… Mad, lazy, looking for an excuse to drop a post me… Not because I thought you’d be interested, but really because I don’t feel like doing a music or movie review…

Instead, I’ll spill my own personal feelings about picking the perfect band name…

So, you want to be a Rock and Roll Star, well listen now to what I say… Oh, wait… Never-mind-all-that-now… So you’ve got yourself a band of wily misfits, and you all make noises that someone else may want to purchase and listen to that you like to call music… Alright then, answer yourself THIS burning question, what do you CALL yourselves?

Still not set on the perfect band name? Still trying to figure out what would look the coolest on an overpriced low quality concert tee? Well fret no longer my friend, keep on reading because I have some sure fire ways to pick a band name that will make all the ladies and gents scream for more of your sweet, soulful sounds…

Option #1: The Mad Libs band name generator…

If you were alive in the 80’s, you’re probably familiar with Mad Libs… If you were involved in any long distance car trip in the 80’s you’re DEFINITELY familiar with Mad Libs… If you were not yet born, or barely cognizant in the 80’s, then you’re making me feel old, but I’ll be pleased to explain… The elders can feel free to listen in as well, just in case you’ve murdered some brain cells in the last 20 years…

So the fine folks at Mad Libs would put together a funny little story, and remove key words prior to printing them up in their book… They would then prompt you with a type of speech to drop in the blank spaces. Verb, adverb, adjective, noun, person’s name, famous place, etc. etc. etc… After you’d pick all your special new words, you’d read your story aloud, and all in the room would chuckle mightily. That was the play anyway, but most of the time you’d end up with a story about a smelly poo making smelly poo with poo Empire State poos, mostly because Mad Libs were typically enjoys from the age range of 8 to 12, the prime age for use of the word poo.

Now that we’re older, and allegedly wiser, all that obsession with bodily functions and parts of speech wasn’t a complete loss, because you can use the Mad Libs formula to build yourself the perfect band name! Just fill in the blanks with your much more adult, expanded vocabulary…

The

Examples include:
The Jumping Breath Mints
The Bleeding Tailpipes
The Weeping Housekeepers
The Humping Reptiles

Real World Success Story:
The Screaming Trees

Rather not be a ‘The’ band? Try:


Examples Include:
Punch Minnesota
Jaunty Lincoln
Dance Chrysler
Merry Eskimo

Real World Success Story:
I don’t have one… It COULD be YOU!!

Option #2 Random Crossword Answers

If you’re like me, you enjoy a good crossword. You also have no musical talent whatsoever and should NOT, I repeat, NOT be a member of a band. This is a dream that is long ready to die, just give it up already. However, if you’re not like me, but know still enjoy a good crossword puzzle, or know someone who does, a completed crossword can by your window to band name bliss. Simply pick two random crossword answers and slap them together. Add a ‘The’ if you want, or don’t, it’s up to you. They’re not ALL winners, but a whole lot of them are.

Examples (From my July 1st Crossword-a-Day calendar, Happy Canada Day by the way…):
Gas Orchestra
Bear Opera
Nutcracker Bake
(For the Spanish radio crowd) Agua Fumar
Oboe Bang

You can see just from those 5 examples there’s a myriad of combinations that would look great emblazoned over the words ‘World Tour’

Real Life Success Story (I can only assume):
Afgan Whigs

Option #3: You’re a REAL artist, and you’ve got something to SAY!

Afraid that picking your name randomly from a crossword, or playing Mad Libs until you’ve spotted a winner won’t accurately express the world’s evils that you and your band mates wish to combat through the awesome power of rock? No worries, you can still play along. Just get yourself the latest copy of Soldier of Fortune and start leafing through for the names of military equipment…

Examples:
M1A1 (As in the tank)
Heat Seeking Missile
Smith & Wesson (Would be especially fitting if your names happen to be Smith and Wesson…)
Luftwaffe

Real Life Success Stories (Obviously):
U2
B52’s

Feel free to set out on your own and blaze new trails of band naming glory, all I ask in return is front row tickets to Dance Chrysler at the Hollywood Bowl…

Monday, June 30, 2008

The Hunger: Proof That I Don’t Hate Bowie

So on Friday, after being enraged by poor documentary film making, it wasn’t enough to just rail against Kill Your Idols in blog form as I had hoped. I still found myself coming up with new reasons why I was disappointed and disturbed that the whole thing. Where were the Velvet Underground in this discussion? Love and Rockets put out some experimental noise rock, and they didn’t get the Sonic Youth holier than thou treatment… Did the poor cameraman who had to film those A.R.E. Weapons tools end up catching some incurable disease from being trapped in the same room with them? Is he now unable to shave, but still unable to grow a real beard?

Long and short of it, I just couldn’t turn my mind off, which typically is a good thing when referring to a film… Normally, after watching a documentary, or even well made historical fiction, I find myself wanting to learn more about the subject matter… In the case of this steaming pile, I really, REALLY just wanted to make the bad men stop…

As with any time anger, hatred, and a touch of fear start creeping into my soul, the quickest and most effective way to stamp out the invading horrors that my mind cooks up is through 80’s interpretive Vampire narrative. In this case, 1983’s Catherine Deneuve, David Bowie, and Susan Sarandon’s Sapphic blood-fest, The Hunger

In all honesty, I’ve never considered myself a vampire film fan. I tend to enjoy them on some ‘that-was-better-than-a-kick-in-the-crotch’ level, and I can’t think of a vampire flick that I absolutely hated, though I think that would change if I took the time to watch Queen Of The Damned, in the long run though, if given a chance to watch a vampire flick or a slasher flick, I go butcher knife over pointy teeth every single time. Also, in the interest of full disclosure, the term ‘Vampire’ is never once uttered in The Hunger, and there’s nary a pointed tooth to be found… These aren’t your grandfather’s Oldsmobile driving vampires, these are ankh-knife wielding, goth-rock listening, fabulous-80’s-fashion wearing blood drinking freaks who just plain don’t age… But DON’T call them vampires… OK, OK, we’re not stupid… They’re vampires and we all know it, so let’s just accept it and move on.

Miriam Blaylock (Deneuve) and her husband John (Bowie) are the type of hip swinging couple that enjoys a night on the town. A little drinking, a little dancing, a cameo performance by goth pioneers Bauhaus, and a raucous after hours party that swings like CBS network programming do… Miriam and John pick up a young couple who seem down for a little bit of the old swappin’ action, and they all get down to business forthwith. Miriam’s making the moves in the oh-so-80’s living room. This is thy type of place you’d expect to see Max Headroom chatting up the Master Control Program about the most effective way to avoid the Noid… Of course, it WAS 1983, so I guess I could cut them some slack. Suffice it to say that we’re beaten over the head by the fact this is a MODERN and HIP couple of cool cats, not some old fuddy duddies…

While Miriam’s suckin’ some face and getting ready to make herself a crimson cocktail, John’s getting’ it on, AND bangin’ a gong in the equally stylish and stark kitchen. Ann Magnusen, who went on to a pretty successful career as a character actress kindly displays her assets for an appreciative audience in the role of ‘Young Woman From The Disco’, Bowie cops a feel, gets down with the makin’ out, and then quickly grows tired of these all too human of pleasures and gets with the hack and slash. One point of note abut the kill scenes in The Hunger… It seems that a modern day vampire on the go can’t manage to extract the blade end from his or her ankh necklace without forcefully pulling the entire chain off their necks.. All in all, this makes for a great dramatic begin to a kill scene, but what do these vampires DO for a living that they can afford to be replacing perfectly good gold necklaces 3 or 4 times a week each time they slice another unsuspecting victim? It’s just not practical, and for those of us living through these trying environment times, it’s also pretty wasteful… You need to reduce, recycle, and reuse Cat and Dave, no go a around breaking and tossing gold chains like they’re popsicle sticks… Not that I condone throwing away popsicle sticks either… There’s both Arts AND Crafts you can accomplish with those sticks… What happens the next time you need to build a scale model of The Alamo? You’re going to be pretty peeved that you tossed those popsicle sticks then AREN’T YOU?

So whilst Bowie’s drinking from the tap so to speak out in the kitchen, Cat D has also loosed the flow of dyed corn syrup… ERRR… blood from her unwitting victim. Young Man From Disco is portrayed ably by John Stephen Hill, who unlike his cohort in club going and vampire bangin’ DIDN’T go on to much of a career, although he was featured in a flick called Bloodbath at the House of Death, which could not POSSIBLY be as good as it’s title. A moment of silence for these crazy young kids in love… We didn’t know their names, but they shall live on in our hearts, and in the veins of their vampire slayers… Alas, poor Yoric... you’re like, dead or something…

I believe the audience reaction is supposed to be somewhere along the lines of ‘DAMN! These folks is KILLERS!’ So long as we’ve established that vital plot point, we can move along.

MONKEYS!!!

To be more specific, pissed off monkeys… To be even MORE specific, pissed off monkeys,. And the scientists who love them… One monkey gets all ‘roid raged up, and rips out another monkey’s throat. It’s not cool, but it’s nature in action. What can you do… Hold on just a second… It’s NOT nature. These monkeys have all been poked and prodded and injected with god knows what to try and reverse the aging process. We know this, because one of the monkey lovin’ scientists, Dr. Sarah Roberts (Sarandon), tells us so while on a generic film version of Good Morning Whatever City You’re Living In, complete with comfy armchairs angled in toward each other, a small round coffee table between them, an innocuous vase of flows, and mugs most likely containing coffee. If you’ve ever seen a movie, or watched television, or been to a home show and seen a staged living room, you know exactly what I’m talking about. If you haven’t, get off this devil box Jebodiah! You’ve got a barn to raise…

Just in cased you missed it, this was plot point #2. SS works with monkeys to try and stop the aging process… Cat D and Dave seem to have stopped the aging process through drinking blood… Could these crazy kids make a love connection? But wait! There’s a twist!

When we last left Cat and Dave’s playhouse of carnage, Davey was a young man. He partied, he sucked vein, he wore skinny jeans and tiny round sunglasses, he was everything one would expect a fun loving night dwelled to be in the mid 80’s… But now, he’s beginning to lose his hair, beginning to get wrinkly, and has a much more gaunt appearance… It’s as though 1983 David Bowie just turned into 2008 David Bowie over the course of one evening, without ever making that horrible Tin Machine mistake… Had 1983 David Bowie known then what 2008 David Bowie knows now, he may not have protested…

So getting’ old Dave decides to confront still young and hot Cat D and say, I’m paraphrasing here, but it was roughly ‘What the hell lady? You told me, like 1,000 years ago, that I’d never get old… NEVER… what’s the deal woman?’ so Cat says something like ‘Them’s the breaks my little chickadee, what do you want to do about it now? You’ll be dust in a week, but don’t worry, you’re not going to die, you’ll just live for all eternity a wrinkled old mummified prune dude, never leaving your casket… Hell, it’s worked just fine for Hugh Heffner…’ Bowie’s hip to the scientific advancements of the day, so he says ‘Give it a rest, vamp-chick… I’M going to see that monkey Dr. and she’ll give me the juice she gives the monkeys to keep them from getting all old and gross. YOU SAID FOREVER!!’ After his Jan Brady tirade is over, he heads for Monkey Lab, home of Dr. Sarandon and her monkey pals. Since he now looks like he’s in his early fifties, he dresses the part, kind of like an extra on a BBC Sherlock Holmes special… Tweed suit, Rex Harrison hat, the whole nine… Davey’s looking to impress these monkeys…

So Suzie’s on the scene, looking all haggard and worn out from her hectic scientist cum rock star schedule when Bowie corners her in the hall, and gives her the old ‘I’m one of the young dudes, I carry the news… but look at me! I look so old!! Ya gotta HELP me doc!.’ So Suzie says ‘Hold on there crackpot, gimmie 15 minutes to rap with my peeps about the monkey junk, and I’ll be right back to run some tests.’ Davey cops a squat in the waiting room whilst Suzie goes back on her merry way, pausing long enough to call her receptionist. “Yeah, there’s a looney tune in the lobby. Make him feel at home, give him some 6 month old magazines to read, and eventually he’ll get tired and go away.’

Poor older by the minute Davey sits and waits, and over the course of the next few hours goes from salt and pepper hairs distinguished older man to 140 year old too old to run for congress creep show… Suzie finally comes back, figuring the coast is clear and that Loopy has moved on to accost a statue in the park or something, but no… Not THIS nut bar, he’s still camping out, but he’s gotten so crusty she doesn’t even recognize him. Davey strolls on up to Suzie’s side and says ‘What the HELL? You’re all like It’ll be 15 minutes and I’m all like OK, just make sure it’s no longer than that, and you’re all like No Problemo, and I’m all like, I’ll wait and read this copy of Highlights and that was like TWO HOURS AGO! You suck lady… Now I’m stuck here, looking like Regis Philbin when just last night I was pulling hot bit part actress tail… You know what, screw you… I don’t need your monkey shots anyway!’ and he leaves.

Suzie’s feeling all 12 kinds of guilty for thinking Davey was just another cuckoo who flew over the nest and she tries to stop him, but Davey’s like ‘Too late Luthor… TOO LATE’ and takes his too old to renew his driver’s license ass on home to rot away, and that’s just what he does. He goes home say’s ‘Damn Cat D, I’m sorry I yelled at you. If it wasn’t for you I’d have been dead like 950 years ago, and I wouldn’t have gotten a chance to nail and drain all those young bit part actresses… You’re the best Cat D… Hold me until I can no longer function and then lock me in a pine box please…’ So that’s what Cat does. She holds him until he can no longer function, and then carries him to the attic to lock him in a pine box with all the other lovers she’s taken over the millennia… ‘Here you go Davey… Rot next to these other old pine boxes… They contain the shattered husks of good people. It’ll be fun!’

Since poor Suzie’s been all dick-in-the-dirt since blowing off the dude who went from 2008 David Bowie to 2008 Ted Turner in a matter of 2 hours, she decides she’ll pull his info and make a house call. She heads on up to Cat’s place, and asks for the man of the house. Cat says ‘Dude skedaddled to Switzerland for some experimental treatment that worked wonders for Dick Clark. He’ll be back sometime, but how about you come in for some wine. I need a new concubine… ERRRR… I’m sure I have his info around here somewhere…’ so Suzie’s like, ‘No problem, I’m not wearing a bra, and it’s totally apparent. Can I have that wine now? I need to spill it on my supple breasts so I have an excuse to take off my top and get down to some naughty lovin.’

So The Hunger was entertaining up to this point, but the next few minutes obviously rules in a complete and total way… All sorts of famous actress parts all over the place, lots of soft focus cheesy camera work, a whole bunch of wind blown sheer sheets subtly draping unclothedness, and when the whole thing is said and done, Cat and Suzie are both fully spent, oh, and Suzie’s a vampire… So Suzie takes off and heads to meet her husband for dinner. She’s not hungry, but still orders a rare steak. Odd, the idea of blood just sounds tasty all of a sudden… Why could THAT be? She spends the next few days not feeling hungry but so totally wanting to suck some vein. She’s not sure why, so she has the monkey lab run some tests on her… Turns out all the blood she’s got in her veins isn’t hers, and this other blood is like vampire HGH or something because it’s making her stay young, and healthy, and vibrant, and MAN I could go for some vein right now…

Anyhoo, Suzie heads on over to Cat’s place, and says ‘What the HELL! I’m all about touching naughty parts, but putting your blood in me? That’s just full on creepy lady…’ and Cat’s like ‘Oh yeah, well, shut up! I like so totally OWN you now… But before you get all pissed and stuff, you’re never going to get old, so THAT doesn’t suck…’ Suzie’s all like ‘Oh yeah? Well, that’s messed up, but I’ll still make out with you…’ So they start with the face sucking, and while Cat is distracted by trying to massage Suzie’s tonsils with her tongue, Suzie reaches up and pulls off the Ankh necklace Cat gave her as a gift… Up, there goes another gold chain… Damn wasteful vampires… Suzie gives a little shiv to queen vampy and sucks her dry…
From here, one of two things happen… Either shit starts to get convoluted, or I dozed off because it was quarter to two in the morning. Either way, to the best of my knowledge, Suzie is now the vampire queen and has a really awesome balcony overlooking the ocean or something… Cat’s got her own very special pine box right next to Davey’s in the attic, and we’re primed for The Hunger TWO! Regis’ Revenge!! I’m absolutely shocked that Susan Sarandon decided such a film wouldn’t be a good career move… In her defense, there was more challenging work on the horizon, like ridin’ Kevin Costner in Bull Durham, bonin’ James Spader in White Palace, and slippin’ it to Geena Davis in Thelma and Louise… Oh, wait… That only happened in the version in my head…

There was a short lived The Hunger TV show which I have never seen but I’m going to go out on a limb and say it probably wasn’t very entertaining… If by entertaining you mean lesbian erotica, and really, who doesn’t? You usually don’t see to much of that on TV, unless you pay for the premium cable channels… No matter, for the well used blood flow, the different twist on the old vampire tale, and for a heaping helping of girl-on-girl goodness, you could do worse than The Hunger… I highly suggest it as a hangover remedy the next time you find yourself drunk on delusional wanna-be-rocker losers…

By the way, David Bowie, for the treatment you received at the hands of that lying Cat D, and unsympathetic Suzie Sarandon you’re forgiven for any repressed memories I may still be clinging to from your inappropriate costuming in Labyrinth. No, that DOESN’T mean I want to hear ‘Magic Dance’, it just means I won’t be filing charges. Stick to roles that require full on pants there Ziggy Stardust. It’s better for all of us…

I leave you with this parting thought… If there is a literary term for someone who suffers from excessive use of the ellipsis, I certainly suffer from it…

Friday, June 27, 2008

I just can't let it go...

Alright, I had no plan on posting anything else before Monday, but I can't sit on this for a full weekend otherwise I'll just keep gritting my teeth and yelling at my computer...

I just finished watching another Rock-Doc, this one made in 2004 and entitled Kill Your Idols. First off, the film is scattered, aimless, and comes to no ultimate conclusion whatsoever. I can live with that, since it's kind of the same idea as the music they're profiling.

The focal point of the film starts with the early New York pre-punk movement of 1970/1971, specifically focusing on Suicide. Suicide was featured in the first five minutes or so of the film. I liked the sound, sort of reminiscent of The Stooges, or Television a little later on, which is cool. Seems like a band I'll look up and enjoy. That's just great!

Then, shit gets sour, they burn through 8 years of great influential music that changed the world, regardless what the opinions of the soon-to-be-featured artists are, and all of a sudden it's 1979. That's fine I guess. I'm cool with ignoring punk rock if that's not what you want to focus on... I'm over it...

So here we are in 1979, and who are we focusing on? Former groupie turned human noise machine Lydia Lunch... I've got a few Lydia Lunch tracks in my collection, specifically her version of Gloomy Sunday off the Blair Witch soundtrack album, and a track of her reading Jack Kerouac's Bowery Blues. The fact she was involved in the Kerouac project, in my opinion, gave her a pass for having no real talent and being ridiculously self important... I can forgive pretty much anything somebody does so long as they dig Kerouac... Unfortunately, this film could not have changed my opinion more...

Lydia Lunch, in addition to pretty much everybody else who felt making feedback noises and lurching into a microphone was 'new music' needs to give it a rest... I'm totally cool with their idea of 'pushing the envelope', doing something totally different, and bucking convention to be themselves. The fact of the matter is though, if you put yourself in a movie, and spend 90 minutes shitting all over every single artist who ISN'T YOU, you've lost all credibility in my book.

There are some exceptions from the 'no wave' bands. The segments with Arto Lindsay of DNA for example, show a performer who was fully aware of who he was, and where he fits in. In some ways, it was pretty easy to see that he wasn't sure why this film was even being made, and I've got to tell you, I'm right there with him. Why does this flick exist? Let's run down the 'plot points'

  • 1971- Suicide starts performing live shows in New York, sounding pretty much like The Stooges before them, but different enough that they're tapped as the beginning of this movement of non-conformism
  • 1979 through 1982- A bunch of people with roughly the same musical talent as say, ME, decide they're tired of more talented, more able people getting all the on stage gig time and start pawing at guitars like wild animals and howling into mics. Like I said, I'm cool if that's who you want to be, but I don't buy that it's in any way 'important' and the makers of this film didn't do a very good part of selling that point.
  • Mid 80's to Early 90's- This is when we're led to believe Sonic Youth is the embodiment of everything that is great and holy. Personally, I think Thurston Moore is an engaging personality, and if you're a music obsessive like myself, you should totally read the book Mix Tape in which he's a featured artist discussing the influence of music on his life. He really seems like a cool guy. That being said, IMO, his music is for shit. The only Sonic Youth I can get any kind of enjoyment out of are the Kim Gordon sung tracks, and only if I manage to distract myself from the music behind the vocals.To Moore's credit, as well as fellow Youther Lee Ranaldo, they did not come off as nearly as self important as the film maker tried to make them. I'm pretty sure they are the only artist featured that the director had actually heard of before. At this time, we're also introduced to The Swans, and I'm sure some other bands that I managed to already block out... Oh thank God, the blogging is helping...
  • 2002- All of a sudden it's 2002, and we're introduced to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Personally, I've always associated them more with The Pretenders than Sonic Youth, but what the hell do I know, I'm not the one sticking a camera in their faces... The YYY's and Gogol Bordello are really the only redeeming quality about the modern section of this film, which is the lion's share of the running time. All the other performers featured during these segments seem way more interested in getting drunk, getting laid, and being 'different' than they do about making music. Much like the 'no wave' crowd, if that's what they're looking for, more power to them... Just a quick FYI though kids... Your NOT important, and I don't mean that in the bitter and elitist way that Lydia Lunch says you're not important, I mean it in the same way that I mean SHE'S not important... There are kids out their with instruments, and voices, and actual songs to sing, stop taking a dump on their stages and get the hell out of the way, or at least stop pretending any of your crap matters.

Just one last point I NEED to make before I can consider this a fully cathartic cleansing of my anger. There is nothing charming, elegant, necessary, entertaining, informative, or even remotely useful about listening to a bunch of aged former musicians complain about how 'today's generation just doesn't get it.' You know what? NEITHER DO YOU! Your time is passed and no one listened. Time to go away now... OK? Bye bye...

Ultimately, I can't blame the No Wave artists for being callous and bitter about their stations in life, the blame rests squarely on film maker Scott Crary who obviously decided to make a film about a subject he knew little about, cared less about, and discovered mid way through apparently wasn't the story he wanted to tell... Also, a message for the jag-offs who are A.R.E. Weapons... It's 4 years since the release of this flick, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs have put out multiple nation wide hits and made a crapload of money... I hope you're still getting groupie tail in your Brooklyn hell-hole dives...

Oh, and Lydia, I just listened to your reading of Bowery Blues again, and you're off the hook... I can't stay mad at you...

Another Friday & What I'm Listening To

Welcome to another Friday... Just two more weeks of work before I head out to fabulous Las Vegas, NV meaning just 2 weeks and 4 days before I head back west, penniless, trading unspeakable acts for gas money to get home... In actuality, I consider myself a very 'responsible' gambler, if such an oxymoron can exist. I think it stems from the fact that I'm always positive I'm going to lose, so I never have that 'just one more bet and I'll make my money back' mentality. Instead I approach a Blackjack table thinking 'Can I afford to drop this hundred bucks in the next 20 minutes?' Typically the first day or two, that answer is always a hearty 'YES!' Usually by the 3rd day however, it's more like 'Maybe, but not as easily as I could afford to lose this $5 in a nickel slot...'

I typically return freed from whatever cash I had planned to lose, but no more than that, and once in a rare while, I come back with some cash left over, which usually ends up at the outlet mall at State Line... Regardless, a splendid time is guaranteed for all, and this year, CSD Julie and I will be following the trip with a follow up respite in the beautiful Santa Barbara wine country, because a proper Vegas vacation requires a 2nd vacation to recover...

Alas, more on that in the coming weeks. For the time being, I have here-and-now excitement to discuss. I just downloaded some new tunes for the iPod! Granted, this is far more exciting for me than it is for anyone else, but I'm jazzed, and really that's all that matters... Below is a breakdown of the new editions... Alas, there is no New Edition to be found...

  • The Cure- The 2004 self titled release from Robert Smith and the boys. I have yet to give it much of a listen, but from what I can tell it holds on to some of the darkness of Bloodflowers without being nearly as ethereal and, I hate to say it, boring... I was not a fan of the prior release, and was concerned when they followed it up with a new Greatest Hits, and then B-Sides collection, that we had heard the last new Cure releases, at least for a good long while. That explains why it's taken me almost 4 years to give this one a shot. Ultimately though, I'm optimistic that this will be a return to some of the great dark quiet albums of the past like Disintegration and The Head on the Door.
  • Gyrate- The 1980 release by Athens, GA band Pylon. I did a write up on Athens GA Inside/Out a few days back, and discovered that there were some releases that I was woefully ignorant of. This one coming well before the film was made, is chock full of rocking dance tunes reminiscent of Patti Smith or early Joan Jett... At least, that's what it reminds me of after a cursory listen. Once I've fully digested this one, I'll probably head over the Pylon website and pick up Gyrate Plus! Their 2007 release.
  • Little Creatures- This well known Talking Heads album is not one I just purchased. I've actually had it for the better part of a year, and embarrassingly enough, kind of forgot I bought it... I got it right around the same time I got She's Like The Weather by The Himalayans, Adam Durtiz's pre-Counting Crows band, and I've been wearing that CD out, so impressed that anything else I picked up in the same time frame just kind of faded into the background. Anyhow, I've decided that while I'm not ready to remove The Himalayans from my playlist, I should give the Heads a chance to be heard...
  • Marquee Moon- Another forgotten purchase of the same week as Little Creatures, Television's Marquee Moon is an album I'd been wanting to buy and listen to for a long time, but kept forgetting about... That makes it all the more sad and shameful that once I did finally buy it, I STILL forgot about it, relegating it to my iTunes playlist, but never dropping it on the the Pod... I've listened to the title track a few times, and really dig the way it seems to melt 80's pop rock with 70's epic prog styling.. A song with a catchy chorus that ALSO runs 11 minutes long? Sign me up!! I guess it's about time to give the rest of the album a shot.
  • Runaway Boys: A Retrospective- This 25 track Stray Cats hits collection is the equivalent of a great thriller novel... I know it's not the most 'intellectual' piece out there, but it's enjoyable, it's easy to listen to, and it doesn't require my complete attention. Not to say that Setzer and the boys aren't talented musicians with a story to tell, but the Cats just have a style that works so much better as peppy pop gap fillers than 'sit and listen' music. There's far from anything wrong with that... It's a GOOD thing...
  • Shine On- Yesterday's post in which I discuss my horrible addiction to all things both music, and trivia related touched upon a weak spot in my music library. I have been listening to and enjoying Jet's Get Born for a few years now, but had not delved deeper into their catalog. As I mentioned in my comments section, I would have to rectify this concern by giving Shine On a shot. From what I've heard so far, it's not quite as hard edged as a lot of the stuff on Get Born is, although maybe I just haven't caught those tracks yet, I'm shuffling back and forth between about 20 different albums, but the softer songs that have played have definitely held my attention and still had a 'rock song' feel, even with their less-than-pulse-pounding tempo. At this rate I'm going to have to pick up their Dirty Sweet EP that started their career, and wait patiently for their 3rd long play being released some time between now and mid next year...

I'm also still digesting the new Elvis Costello, Momofuku, The Counting Crows Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings, REM's Accelerate, Josh Ritter's The Historical Conquest of Josh Ritter, and right this second I'm listening to perhaps one of the greatest piece of poetry and music ever committed to tape, William Shatner's take on Pulp's 'Common People'. Not only is 'The Shat' driving home the spoken-word power of a rage-against-the-aristocracy anthem, but it also contains the hard edged return of 80's under-rated Brit singer-songwriter Joe Jackson playing a mean axe and adding some vocal harmony to Shat's harshly real deadpan. I know I sound like I'm mocking, but seriously, this track rules... There's an SNL live performance on YouTube that's well worth a watch...

That does it for me. I'll be back Monday with tales of suspense and intrigue from the weekend...

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Six Degrees of Seperation & Devolution Into Madness

I have this problem, and I don't think I'm unique in the digital age. With so much information at our finger tips at any given point in time, it seems to me that humanity has a new thirst for knowledge... Not necessarily USEFUL knowledge mind you, but with so much useless fact at our disposal the mind wanders in wholly new directions.

Example: In 1991, founding member, song writer, and keyboard player for Genesis, Tony Banks, put out a solo album called 'Still'. I own this album, and have never really given it a good hard listen, so I included the tracks on my iPod, hoping that through half-listened osmosis I may gain enough appreciation for the work to want to sit down and listen to the whole thing. That is yet to happen, no offense to Tony, but from what I've heard, the music is very dated in that late 80's/early 90's sort of way, which is totally fine, when I'm in that mood... I just haven't been of late...


Regardless, one track did catch my attention. A track on the B-side of the album, track #9, still on the front side of the CD, since CDs, you know, only have one side... Anyhoo, the track is called 'Back to Back' and I was struck by the lead singer, who sounded an awful lot like Pat Benetar...

Now if it was STILL 1991, and I was hearing this in the car, on the radio, off a mix tape, or elsewhere that I didn't have the liner notes readily available, I likely would just have thought 'Hmmm... That sounds like Pat Benetar' and let it be... That's what we did before the Internet... We thought about things, kicked them around in our minds for a few seconds, and then let them go, never to be thought of again. Alas my friends, this is NOT 1991, this is the Digital Age! A time in which anything and everything is available at the touch of a button. Exhibit A:

I'm listening to 'Back to Back', thinking the singer sounds like Pat Benetar, and instead of just accepting that as my opinion, and not really caring if I'm right or not, I allow my fingers to do the walking... No, I didn't grab a phone book, look up Pat Benetar, and give her a call to see if she sang 'Back to Back' on Tony Banks' solo album Still in 1991, I'm pretty sure she's unlisted, and doesn't live in my neighborhood... Instead, I went to the handy-dandy Internet, and typed 'Tony Banks Back to Back Singer' into the Yahoo search engine (sorry Google, I tend to go back and forth with my searching preferences). Yahoo directed me to an Amazon review, which directed me to Wikipedia, which told me that the Benetar impersonator on Tony's track is an Aussie song stylist by the name of Jayney Klimek.

Now MOST people, having found the bit of trivia they were searching for, would have forgotten this nugget of fact as quickly as they discovered it, and moved on to more important things, like refilling their coffee, or finishing the crossword-of-the-day calendar they've been neglecting all morning, but not ME! I, as I mentioned, have a problem...

Now that I've discovered that this haunting voice from 17 years hence, DAMN... 1991 was SEVENTEEN years ago... That's creepy... Huh? Oh...

Now that I've discovered that this haunting voice from 17 years hence is none other than the FASCINATING Jayney Klimek, whom no more than 90 seconds ago I'd never heard of before, I now need to know anything and everything about this woman's professional recording career... What I found was FASCINATING... I can prove it, because I typed FASCINATING all in caps, TWICE, well, now three times, so therefore it must be true...

If you have a problem, like I do, you've likely already clicked on the above link to Jayney's Wikipedia entry. If you have, you've likely already discovered the first nugget of trivia I'm about to drop on the heads of the blog-reading public... Two of Jayney's cousins are members of the Aussie rock band Jet. If you're not familiar with Jet, you really should be... Their 2003 release Get Born rocks their feet straight up the asses of the listening public... In all fairness, I myself am not too familiar with Jet's work beyond this album, but this one's good, and Jayney is related to people who play on it... In a word, FASCINATING. Other famous musical family members are also known for recording things, writing things and playing things. While this too is entertaining, I'm lazy, so if you want to know more, read about them yourself. Someone took the time to post a Wikipedia entry, the least YOU can do is read it...

Nugget of intrigue #2: In addition to Tony Banks, Jayney has also collaborated with Tangerine Dream, Paul Van Dyk, and Alphaville. I can only assume that by the conversion principles of the 'Alphaville Theorem' this makes her 'Big in Japan'.

I like it when people who sing wander around and sing with other people who either sing, or play instruments... It gives me something to obsess about, and while that frightens me in a deep seeded and dark way, I also find it... You ready? Get properly positioned now, because it's on it's way... FASCINATING...

Yet another infotainment joy nugget: This is the one that turns my 'problem' from simply a waste of time into a potential waste of money, although I'm fighting my base instincts to reach for a credit card and instead simply shilling to my sparsely populated public... You see, on some subconscious level, I have the feeling that if YOU go and listen to, and subsequently purchase something from Jayney's new band You Pretty Thing , then I won't have to... I will have done my part to support a relatively unknown artist with a famous family and an uncanny ability to have sounded like Pat Benetar 17 years ago...

You know you WANT to... Indulge in your Internet obsession, give Jayney a listen. It's the least you can do... After all, her vocal stylings were enough to send me on a tailspin of madness that I could only escape through completing a blog post... That's... well... I really have no idea WHAT that is... how 'bout FASCINATING...


Tuesday, June 24, 2008

When Blinding Hope Turns to Dashed Dreams

Last night I was surfing the Netflix ‘watch instantly’ selections and stumbled across a indie documentary on the music scene in Athens, Georgia, famous for launching the careers of the B-52’s and REM. It looked at least passingly interesting, and was short enough to watch on my laptop without fear of burning a hole in my leg, so being the premier music and film blog authority in my own mind, I felt duty bound to give it a watch. That, and it allowed me to focus on something other than the shaky lead the Angels were trying to hold on to in the 9th... It certainly helped my opinion of the film that the Halos held on to win…

For the most part, Athens GA.- Inside/Out was a pretty standard indie doc film. Writer & Director Tony Gayton and his crew were obviously passionate about their subject matter, and did a good job to intertwine the stories of the up and coming artists in the area, the established careers of REM & B-52’s, and how they started, and the people and places that make Athens GA what it is. Had this film been made in the last 2 or 3 years, I likely would have followed up my watching by checking the web for info on the relatively unknown artists profiled, Love Tractor, Time Toy, Flat Duo Jets, the Bar-B-Q Killers, Kilkenny Kats, Dreams So Real, Limbo District, Pylon, and Squalls. Some although admittedly not all, seemed committed to their craft, and had the chops to at least make a moderately successful record.

The thing is, the film was made in 1987, and aside from the already existent careers of REM and B-52’s, none of the other featured bands seemed to grab on to the success they were so deeply striving for. Looking around this morning, I see a few artists did get albums made from their MTV exposure due to this doc flick, but even with the jump start, fate and conflict intervened in rock greatness for these performers. It’s a shame, but it also adds a wholly different feel to the film. Instead of the timbre of hope and potential that the doc subjects express when discussing their plans for world rock domination, it becomes a bittersweet portrait of the failure found so commonly in the recording industry. I found myself really feeling for these performers as they spoke on the doors opened for them by The B-52’s and REM, discussing how perhaps being a rock star isn’t just a ‘pipe dream’ for artists from Athens. Unfortunately, as an audience 21 years in the future, we’re in on a joke that the films subjects cannot understand, which personally turned my feelings of remorse for their failures to a strange guilt, as if I was mocking their dreams by watching their hope only to know it would fade into the wind.

To quell my own guilty feelings, and to give some insight on the bands featured for those who may choose to watch this film (if you have a Netflix account you can watch it as a direct download, skipping that pesky mailman’s involvement). Honestly, if you’re a fan of mid 80’s alt-rock and it’s historical roots, it’s worth the hour and a half of your life. I’ll skip REM and B-52’s, since we all know what happened to them, and even in the film they are presented more as a reason for the making, rather than a subject of it.


Love Tractor- From their Wikipedia entry: Love Tractor is an alternative rock band from Athens, Georgia. The band was formed in 1980 by guitarists Mark Cline and Mike Richmond. The band played their first few gigs with no bassist and a drum machine, but bassist/multi-instrumentalist/artist Armistead Wellford and drummer Kit Schwartz were added early on. Along with The B-52's, Pylon and R.E.M., Love Tractor is considered one of the founding members of the Athens alternative rock scene. Love Tractor originally performed only instrumental material. The band first signed to DB Records. Later, the original lineup (with several different drummers replacing Schwartz) recorded for RCA and Razor and Tie Records. After a breakup that lasted several years, the band re-formed in 2001 and recorded the CD 'The Sky at Night' for Razor and Tie. Their Myspace music page shows more info and has songs available for download.

Time Toy- Time Toy has also jumped on the internet band wagon and sells their tracks through a myspace music page. Maybe all these bands haven’t faded as far into obscurity as I anticipated… They do not have much in the way of bio info on their page, and they do not have a Wikipedia entry. If I wasn’t so damn lazy, I’d look further, of course, if I was going to put out tremendous effort, I’d expect to get paid… Rock has met hard-place…

Flat Duo Jets- Flat Duo Jets went on to record a virtually unsuccessful album that took 2 years to actually find it’s way into local music stores. Their 1990 self titled album earned them a spot on Letterman, and mild exposure, but for the most part, they could not catch the lightening in a bottle required to go from local fringe act to known Rock Stars. In 1998 they released a second album Lucky Eye which was also poorly received. In 2006 film maker Tony Gayton returned to the Athens well and made a 2nd rock doc about The Flat Duo Jets, Two Headed Cow. This spawned a soundtrack album, which equally has fallen on deaf ears, but just the fact they have managed to prolong their fringe fame makes their segments of the film a little less melancholy. Personally, they were my favorite of the under known performers featured with a great hard-edged early rock sound.

The Bar-B-Q Killers- So far as I can tell, the Bar-B-Q Killers broke up in 1989. You can catch a 1986 concert video of them on YouTube. The Bar-B-Q Killers’ drummer, Arthur Johnson joined with Kilkenny Cats bassist Sean O’Brien and joined the Boston Mass. Blues rock band Come, but both left the band in 1995 after recording a few albums to no real acclaim or sales. BBQK Lead single Laura Carter went on to record with another Athens band, Jack-O-Nuts, scoring minor to non-existent success, but touring more widely, and making some records. Laura passed in her sleep on December 2nd, 2002 while living in the US Virgan Islands. She had struggled with her health for a number of years, but seemed to be turning it around. http://flagpole.com/News/2001/2002-12-18 offers a pretty fair send-off to a one of a kind vocalist.

Kilkenny Cats- The Cats split not long after the release of Inside/Out and none resurfaced until O’Brien’s foray into Boston Blues-Rock with Come. If you are willing to dig, they did put uot a single in 1984 called ‘Attractive Figure’, a full length LP 2 years later ‘Hands Down’ and their swan song, was release in 1987 an EP called ‘Hammer’. I can give no impressions of the music as I have not taken the time to track any of it down. All I know of them is what I have seen in the film, and I did not find my self forming much of an impression one way or another.
Dreams So Real- Much like Love Tractor, Dreams So real can be tracked through Wikipedia and MySpace Music. From Wikipedia: The trio consisted of chief songwriter Barry Marler on lead vocals and guitar, Trent Allen on backing vocals and bass, and Drew Worsham on drums. Forming in 1983 when its members met in an Athens record store, their debut single, "Everywhere Girl", came out in 1985 and was produced by Peter Buck of R.E.M.. Buck also produced their first full-length album, 1986's Father's House. The band gained a bit more exposure by performing their song "Golden" (called "Steps" in the movie's end notes) in Athens, GA. Inside/Out , a rock documentary on their hometown music scene. With the success of R.E.M., the Athens scene, and other college radio-friendly bands, Dreams So Real was signed to Arista Records and released Rough Night in Jericho in 1988. The title track earned some success, reaching #28 on the Billboard Mainstream Rock Chart and receiving some MTV airplay. A follow-up single, "Bearing Witness" also cracked Billboard's Rock Chart. The album would reach the Billboard Hot 200, peaking at #150.[The 1990 follow-up album, Gloryline, met with less success both critically and commercially. Soon after, Arista dropped the band and Dreams So Real soon drifted apart. As a kind of parting gift, the band released a collection of outtakes, rarities and B-sides titled Nocturnal Omissions, made available through their fan-club mailing list. Marler and Allen have both left the music scene after a short detour with the band Ether in the late 1990’s. Worsham, despite being shot in the head in 2003 continues on in music, and works as a computer technician. Their myspace music page is managed by a fan with the band’s blessing and tracks are available for download.

Limbo District- The most avant garde of the bands featured in the film, Limbo District had faded into obscurity, even at the time of the film’s making, with the only references being old video footage and comments from B-52’s and some of the other interviewed acts. It’s a shame, as they seemed to be one of the more interesting and unique artists mentioned throughout the movie.

Pylon- Mentioned by REM, B-52’s and virtually all other Athens music fans as the ‘best of the best’ in the Athens scene, Pylon never planned on being rock stars, and had disbanded by the time the film was made. Offered a spot opening for U2 on a national tour, the band turned down the offer, and at the time of the film were all working odd jobs in and around the Athens area. Ultimately however, the band decided to re-join and accept their place as influential artists for the most successful Athens acts, REM and the B-52’s. Pylon officiall reunited in 1989, opening for REM on the final leg of the Green tour. Once again however, they could not stick together and broke up in 1991. In 2004 they reunited yet again, and in October of 2007 released the album Gyrate Plus, their first in 17 years. http://wearepylon.com/ is the band’s official website for more info on their current comings and goings.

The Squalls- Made up of the Athen’s music scenes ‘elders’, my personal opinion of The Squalls was that they ranged somewhere from a jam band to a club circuit ensemble wishing for so much more. Within the band there seemed to be tension over the direction, if not of the music, then of the desire to sign a deal, make a record, go on a tour, and hopefully, make some money in the process. The Squalls music is available online for download, but the band is no longer available to play gigs. Lead Singer & Guitarist Bob Hay, lead guitar Ken Starratt, and keyboardist, percussionist, & singer Diana Torell are now playing as Bob Hay & The Jolly Beggars. Bob also went on to marry Pylon lead singer Vanessa Briscoe.

All in all, there was some level of success from the Inside/Out artists, though none on the level that the film’s subjects seem to wish they would achieve. There are happy stories here, and sad stories, but all in all, there are rock stories, and a whole lot of reasons for me to update my music collection accordingly… If you are interested, I highly suggest you work your Google and dig up some tracks and info on your own about these bands. While the music may not be for everybody, their stories are the quintessential American Rock & Roll experience, and even those of us who can’t play a note can respect that.