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December 21, 2007

PUT THE CERTIFICATE UNDER YOUR CHIN, HONEY!

Friends and loved ones and readers who don't comment so I have no idea who you are -

Most of you know my dear friend Kevin Westbrook. For the last 20-odd years I've known him, I have enjoyed his gregarious personality, Sportscenter-cribbed vocabulary, love for college athletics, off-putting humor, and disturbing childhood as a chess prodigy.

It is with a mix of amusement and great amusement, then, that I present to you this picture:

What's my goal? It's pretty epic, actually - I want to make this picture an internet sensation. My goal is to give this 13 year old chess prodigy the popularity (albeit dubious and ironic) that he could never have in real life. Unlike today, where chess stars are golden gods rarely seen without an entourage of admirers and beautiful women, in 1990, teenage chess sensations were mostly the recipients of snickers, atomic wedgies, and hand-me-downs from the Ozier family (a fact Kevin has confirmed to me - his whole outfit once belonged to John Ozier*).

It will be like that Stephen King book** where the only way you can kill the child's ghost that's haunting your lake house is to seek violent revenge on the withered town magnate and his necromancing secretary who are responsible for his murder. If Kevin can become a star today, my hope is that it will rupture the space-time continuum and cause the thoroughly unhappy young Mr. Westbrook to buck up with a smile. I'd like to think maybe we can even make MR. WESTBROOK smile . . . but miracles are hard to come by.

I want to make Kevin the new Star Wars Kid.

* - I assume this includes his elastic waste-band khakis.
** - In other words, 80 per cent of them

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December 20, 2007

I GOT A ROCK

I’m halfway through Charles Schultz’s biography. It is at once fascinating and frustrating, more the former than the latter certainly, but somewhat irritating nonetheless. Like most biographies, the author has done such extensive research that he feels authorized to play absentee psychiatrist for a person who is no longer with us – hence there are all kinds of Oedipal overtones that I’m extremely skeptical of.

Most biographers labor very hard to tie their subject into some kind of archetypal meta-narrative (someone should write about this, if they haven’t already). A few years back, I was thoroughly bored by a Nick Drake biography that mystifyingly compared his trajectory to the sinking of the Titanic. David Michaelis chooses, for some inexplicable reason, Vikings. One of his chapter titles is “The Dawning of the Age of Snoopy.” Don’t get me wrong: I prefer this to the alternative, where the intellectual biographer makes no attempt to make his subject’s life relevant to anyone who might not have a passion for him/her.

Also, it is 300 pages too long – did we really need to 20 pages of details about Schultz’s cousins? And I seriously doubt that Schultz really spent years thinking he was a failure (as Michaelis implies), when by 30 he was already becoming the most successful cartoonist the world has ever known. This seems like a melodramatic addition.

Yet the biography remains interesting despite these extraneous details mainly because of the Schultz’s complicated neuroses and relationship to his success. Did you know, for instance, that:

- There really was a little red-haired girl? Her name was Donna, and when Schultz knew her she was dating another dude as well. And she kept telling them she was going to choose between them, and in the end did not choose “Sparky” (Schultz) – telling him on her front porch.
- Schultz worked at one of those correspondence art schools that advertise on the inside of matchboxes?
- Schultz hated the name Peanuts and spent most of his grand artistic career bitter about the arbitrary title?
- In one of those wonderful, iconoclastic “Road Less Taken” moments that ultimately shaped the landscape of newspaper comics, Schultz turned down an opportunity to work for Disney, then at the height of its powers, and decided to do his own strip.
- Peppermint Patty was based on his tomboyish cousin, but Schultz kept this private this due to the fact that P.P. became a lesbian icon?
- The real Charlie Brown (whose name was Charlie Brown) was not “the real Charlie Brown” because, according to Schultz, he took the name and not the personality. But “the real Charlie Brown” was not only a shameless opportunist who seemingly blamed Schultz for his troubled life. A similar thing happened to the “Real George Costanza.”

The one thing I absolute agree with Michaelis about is the assumption of Schultz’s genius. I agree that Schultz tapped into the zeitgeist of a culture and wrote of on its defining texts. Peanuts stands up to anything written in this century, and should be studied by those wishing to understand amorphous ideas of identity in any decade in which Schultz was alive and drawing. It reflects that uncanny mix of post-war disillusionment and prototypically American idealism that hangs like a fog over the history of the mid-1900s. Michaelis as literary critic is convincing (though with me he’s preaching to the converted) in elevating Schultz to some level of literary pantheon. Here is a typical passage:

“Again and again, he presented himself to the public on these terms: born into the world as ‘just an ordinary person from the Midwest,’ but possessed of intelligence and native talent, which he had the wit and will to harness, he had come to intuit his destiny at an early age. No one in his upbringing had the vision or sensitivity to grasp the extraordinary of his quest – except for his silent sidekick, a wildly uncontrollable dog.”

So on that level, I appreciate the work and I really appreciate Schultz. I’m interested to see where it goes from where. For instance, I wonder how Schultz felt about the cartoons with their wonderful Vince Guaraldi scores. Also I’m curious how he reacted to the political comic satire of BLOOM COUNTY and DOONESBURY, or the birth of the astonishing popularity of the only comic character to share the level of Charlie Brown – Garfield.

A good Christmas read.

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December 19, 2007

TEN ACTORS WHO NEED TO ACT MORE!

While watching NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN (which I haven’t reviewed, but will), I was captivated by Josh Brolin’s brilliant mix of the phlegmatic and jittery and, like everyone else though, “Why isn’t this guy in more stuff?” Of course, before his fortuitous enterprise with the Bros. Coens, Brolin was toiling away in obscure movies and his most famous role to date was either GOONIES or as the son of Barbra’s Streisand’s husband (also named Brolin*). Brolin had a breakout year – he’s one of those guys who needed to escape his boy-toy image and put some character on his brow.

So this got me thinking, who are the other actors and actresses who need to be in more movies? This is not the same as the A.V. Club’s list, where they pick character actors who are very active, and very good. Robert Downey Jr., Catherine Keener, Zooey Deschanel, and Steve Buscemi (among my favorites) are already in a lot of movies, and I’m happy with that (even though many of them are crap or are going to be crappy). Unfortunately, you rarely see the folks I’m noting in choice roles. Here’s hoping they find a Forsterian** comeback that jolts them into character actor heaven.

This is kind of a reverse-order list, meaning my number one is at the end. There are eleven, by the way.

IBEN HJEILE

There are two camps among fans of the Cusack HIGH FIDELITY movie. Some found Hjeile annoying and whiny, others saw her as a refreshing new face attractive in an unfamiliar way. I stand in the latter camp, and looked forward to seeing her as a permanent fixture in independent movies. Sadly, she rarely graces the American screen. According to the IMDB, she’s back in Denmark making movies.

THORA BIRCH

Another face I thought would be an indie fixture. Her roles in AMERICAN BEAUTY and GHOST WORLD were iconic, but unfortunately in an Anthony Perkins/PSYCHO sort of way. I don’t think any casting director can look beyond Birch to see her talents extending past the ability to play hipst-hers who wear coke bottle glasses and roll their eyes a lot. It’s too bad because those roles do an effective job of masking her unusual beauty. Her post GHOST WORLD-resume is a list of movies you’ve never heard of. I wish they’d cast her instead of Christina Ricci in everything.

TOBY HUSS

I know, who? Huss materializes every now and then and reminds me that he exists. Mostly, he’s been “that guy” in a bunch of TV shows I love – SEINFELD, THE ADVENTURES OF PETE AND PETE, NEWSRADIO. This year, he hilariously played a drunken limo driver in CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM. He also stole scenes in RESCUE DAWN. I think Huss needs an “Uncle Rico” role to show his gifts.

CHRIS ELLIOTT

I think Elliott’s thing is to make funny appearances on Letterman and get paid to show up in random movies and make unfunny dialogue slightly funnier. But I think CABIN BOY actually showed an actor who could carry a film, albeit a bad one. His scenes in SOMETHING ABOUT MARY are by far the funniest.

GINA GERSHON

Mainly because she’s very very hot. But also because she showed some comic range on CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM as an exotic dry cleaner. Critics and columnists are always complaining that there aren’t enough choice roles for older women – here’s one.

CARRIE-ANNE MOSS

After THE MATRIX, I remember thinking that Moss would be a huge star. She’s beautiful, tough, sexy, and can stare through a brick wall. MEMENTO seemed to show that she could play characters who did not live in simulated realities (technically). Unfortunately, she seems destined to be a B-movie queen, defined by her one role.

GINA MCKEE

When I saw the Head Nurse in ATONEMENT, I wondered where I had seen her. I remembered with a great movie I caught up with on Encore – as the bitchy store-detective girlfriend in the movie that introduced to Clive Owen, CROUPIER. She’s great in both (and in a small part in NOTTING HILL), and seems in lot of ways like a British Marcia Gay Harden.

COURTNEY LOVE

Some people who know me know of my unfortunate attraction to Ms. Love. I know, I know – she probably killed Kurt Cobain. But have you seen PEOPLE VS. LARRY FLYNT? Who woulda thunk it (Also, Hole’s first album is pretty great)? When Love was passed over for an Oscar nomination, she all but disappeared, only popping out of obscurity long enough to play psycho whores. I think she is a very natural talent and she is, of course, easy on the eyes even (read: especially) when wearing a dress that’s covered with cigarette burns.

CHRIS EIGEMAN

Whit Stillman, where are you? Apparently, working. In three awesome films, Eigeman plays a Stillman surrogate and unlike Woody Allen, each character acts as a different aspect of Stillman. In METROPOLITAN, BARCELONA, and LAST DAYS OF DISCO, he is, respectively, a slickster, a burnout, and an idealistic romantic. And he’s also great in my two favorite Noah Baumbach films. Eigeman is good looking, but he’s about as charismatic as this sweater I once owned that more or less made me invisible. His strength lies in his ability to convey a sharp intelligence, and a thoughtfulness that may or may not be authentic. I hope we see both him and Stillman again (and a pre-pain and suffering Baumbach). By the way, ALL of Stillman’s actors need to be working again, but other than the DISCO stars (Beckinsale, Sevigny), none of them are.

KEITH CARRADINE

Carradine was a big player in Robert Altman’s 70s film, and in the films of Altman’s protégé, Alan Rudolph. He’s not as cool as brother David, nor as nerdy as Robert, but Carradine, like Josh Brolin, has aged well. As Wild Bill Hickok, he was my favorite thing about DEADWOOD. He’s a strong, solid presence who can also suggest weariness and vulnerability.

ERIC STOLTZ

I just don’t get that Stoltz doesn’t have a cult. He is, in every aspect, the “poor man’s John Cusack” – but just like Cusack he’s verbose, an 80s teen star who has matured into a likably shaggy persona, thoughtful, and possesses a sly charisma that’s perfect for the kind of comedies he’s perfect for. He’s great at pontificating while holding a beer, even better at suggesting all of life’s answers based on experience he doesn’t have.

Check it: the other day I Tivoed and rewatched PULP FICTION. Just as good as I remembered it. Every scene and character suggests a life beyond the scene, and it has one of the amazing soundtracks ever put to film. But Stoltz is so great in his two scenes with Travolta. He’s so convincing as this stoner who doesn’t want to take action but kinda feels like he has to.

BTW, weirded out by this scene? That's right, Stoltz was the original Marty McFly, but was considered too dark for the movie. They filmed a few scenes. It's hard to imagine a Fox-less FUTURE.

PTA, Wes A, one of you guys who likes to reinvent – start with Stoltz, then go down the rest of the names on my list.

* Who, by the way, gave one of the most underrated performances in the history of movies (TV movies, anyway) as Ronald Reagan in the much-derided TV biopic.
** Robert (of JACKIE BROWN) not E.M. (of HOWARDS END)

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December 18, 2007

OTHER TOP 10-ALANIA

So Pitchfork's list is out: It includes only four albums I even mentioned (Spoon, Of Montreal, Arcade Fire, Radiohead), and about 35 albums I haven't even heard of - a proto-typically esoteric mix of hip-hop/club music/bands from Eastern Europe. Woo-hoo. Hope that was fun for them. Now they can go back to crapping on everything. Their love for the Of Montreal album, in particular, is curious. Their love for Lil' Wayne and Kanye West, weird and cloying.

Any love for The National? I've never really listened to them.

Here's is a mix of the best songs of the year (ranked). I didn't really put a whole lot of time into this, so it's about as authoritative as an eighth grader who claims that math sucks.

1. Some Loud Thunder (CYHSY)
2. Impossible Germany (Wilco)
3. The Underdog (Spoon)
4. My Body is a Cage (Arcade Fire)
5. Hunting for Witches (Bloc Party)
6. Satan Said Dance (CYHSY)
7. Don’t Make Me A Target (Spoon)
8. All The Things That Go To Heaven To Make Earth (New Pornographers)
9. Myriad Harbor (New Pornographers)
10. Leave me (like you found me) (Wilco)
11. Emily Jean Stock (CYHSY)
12. Yankee Go Home (CYHSY)
13. Pragmatic Woman (Harlan T. Bobo)
14. The Chinatown Bus (Bishop Allen)
15. I’ll Work For Your Love (Bruce Springsteen)
16. Doin’ the Math (Loudon Wainwright)
17. I Should Have Known Better (Yo La Tengo)
18. Corazon (Bishop Allen)

And here are the seven best albums I bought in ot-8 that didn't come out in ot-8.

1. Bishop Allen, CHARM SCHOOL
2. Peter Bjorn and John, WRITERS BLOCK
3. Raconteurs, BROKEN BOY SOLDIERS
4. Randy Newman, LITTLE CRIMINALS
5. Sly and the Family Stone, LIFE
6. Jay Farrar, SEBASTOPOL
7. MC Solaar, MACH 6

Just for giggles, here's my top 25 most played - all my previous Top 25 M.P. statistics were changed this Summer when I got a new computer and thus a new Itunes library. (Disclaimer, most of the top 15 are on my jogging mix)

1. Holland 1945 (NMHotel) *
2. Some Loud Thunder
3. I Love The Unknown (Clem Snide)
4. The King of Carrot Flowers Pts. Two and Three (NMH)
5. Communist Daughter (NMH)
6. The Way We Get By (Spoon)
7. This Time Tomorrow (The Kinks)
8. Dream On (Aerosmith)
9. Things Are What You Make Of Them (Bishop Allen)
10. Birdhouse in your Soul (They Might Be Giants)
11. left your Door unlocked (Harlan T. Bobo)
12. Love Will Tear Us Apart (Joy Division)
13. Instant Karma (John Lennon)
14. Demon Valley (Bobby Bare Jr.)
15. Miracle Drug (A.C. Newman)**
16. I Better Be Quiet Now (Elliott Smith)
17. Listen To The Music (Doobie Brothers)
18. Drink To Me Babe, Then (A.C. Newman)
19. only love (Harlan T. Bobo)
20. On The Table (A.C. Newman)
21. Don't Make A Target (Spoon)
22. Better Than Most (A.C. Newman)
23. Neighborhood #1, Tunnels (Arcade Fire)***
24. Novocaine for the Soul (The Eels)
25. Let The Cool Goddess Rust Away (Clap Your Hands Say Yeah)

Random Rules - Ipod Shuffle: I pushed shuffle and listed the songs that showed up (I got lucky; it didn't pick up my Vanilla Ice tracks):

Elevator Music - Beck - The Information
O Girlfriend - Weezer - The Green Album
When Your Lover Has Gone - Frank Sinatra - The Rat Pack: Live And Swinging
Shakespeare's Sister - The Smiths - Singles
Things Have Changed - Bob Dylan - Wonder Boys Soundtrack
My Wife - The Who - Who's Next
Outro With Blues - Neko Case - Blacklisted
Make It Alright - Jay Farrar - Sebastapol
God's Own Singer - The Flying Burrito Brothers - Best of
Once In David's Royal City - Sufjan Stevens - Songs for Christmas

By the way, did I mention I got a new Ipod? I ran a 5k on Saturday and due to my own stupidity, I stored it in the pocket of my soaking wet Rain hoodie. Ipods do not like to go swimming. I was a motivated buyer, so I got a sliver 80 gig. Pretty rockin' awesome.

* For obvious reasons
** A.C. Newman is the first name on my Ipod, so sometimes it accidentally plays the first album on the Pod. Still, I do listen to this album a lot)
*** Down 22 slots from its unprecedented two year stay at number one - basically ever since I owned an Ipod.

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December 16, 2007

TOP 10 ALBUMS OF THE YEAR

I don’t know what you think (in fact, I don’t care, since no one ever says what they think in the comments), but this has been a pretty remarkable year for music. My personal top 10 list is full of bands I love and have loved, but my honorable mention shows the range of excellent releases. I’ve been blown away by several albums, disappointed by few (though Ryan Adams’ album was pretty lame). Without further ado:

Honorable Mention:
The Shins, WINCING THE NIGHT AWAY; Josh Ritter, THE HISTORICAL CONQUESTS OF JOSH RITTER; Richard Thompson, SWEET WARRIOR; Son Volt, THE SEARCH; Of Montreal, HISSING FAUNA, ARE YOU THE DESTROYER; Radiohead, IN RAINBOWS; Yo La Tengo, I AM NOT AFRAID OF YOU AND I WILL BEAT YOUR ASS; Loudon Wainwright, STRANGE WEIRDOS

Josh Ritter’s HISTORICAL CONQUESTS was a little underwhelming; part of it seems to be him trying to be Spoon. I still love him, but he seems to be going in a direction that’s antithetical to what made his earlier efforts rock so hard and authentically. Of Montreal’s new album reminded me of THE GAY PARADE – it’s kind of unaccessible and my O.M. predilection leans toward the more pop-heavy and ear-friendly.

As for IN RAINBOWS, I tried, I really did. I don’t find it to be a metal ball bouncing in an echo chamber while robots talk to each other (like I did AMNESIAC), but it isn’t the sonic freak-out that OK COMPUTER or KID A, or the more subtle, beautiful Britpop masterpiece of THE BENDS.

So that’s the back-ups, here’s the top 10

Bruce Springsteen, MAGIC

Not an album to introduce anyone to the Boss with (though 2005s DEVILS AND DUST, with its stark descriptions of desert-scapes and lonely soldiers is a great intro), but a kind of amalgamation of everything he’s ever done. This is unusual from him, as he often picks a tone and sticks with it for 45 minutes or so.

Elliott Smith, NEW MOON

Kind of a cheat, but this is basically the B-sides for ELLIOT SMITH and EITHER/OR. It also includes his version of “Thirteen” by Big Star, which may be my favorite song of the year. It’s also nice to have this collection instead of the GOOD WILL HUNTING soundtrack, previously the one place to get “Miss Misery.” A must-have for any obsessive fan.

Bloc Party, A WEEKEND IN THE CITY

In some ways, Bloc Party is the new U2 – solemn, kind of angry, powering through as though their stuff can change the world. A WEEKEND IN THE CITY is a step up over 2005’s SILENT ALARM.

Harlan T. Bobo, I’M YOUR MAN

My favorite Memphis alt-rocker sings soulful, honest songs – so much so that we won’t deride him from stealing one of Leonard Cohen’s most famous phrases. I would like to see Harlan become the next Townes Van Zandt with his similar touch of “we’re all doomed to some degree of misery for the rest of our lives but we may as well go to a bar tonight.” Best song is “Pragmatic Woman,” a tune that Cohen probably wishes he had written and Van Zandt would have had a lot of fun with.

Bishop Allen, THE SECOND STRING

The biggest joy of movie-watching and music-listening year was this discovering this precociously joyous band. Lead singer Justin Rice, if you remember, also starred in the latest film by Andrew Bujalski, MUTUAL APPRECIATION. If THE SECOND STRING doesn’t seem like a step forward from 2003’s CHARM SCHOOL, it is a least a hop in the right place. The guy at Monseignor Allen also get the award for weirdest band to be featured in a product placement, as their CLICK CLICK CLICK is making the rounds in some type of camera commercial. Still, this is a

Wilco, SKY BLUE SKY

Pitchfork said that Wilco’s latest “nakedly exposes the dad-rock gene Wilco has always carried but courageously attempted to disguise.” Okay, that’s what I love about it. Suck an egg, you hipster doofuses.

Arcade Fire, NEON BIBLE

Arcade Fire continues to establish themselves as one of earth’s most relevant rock bands. Like Bloc Party, they take themselves awfully seriously. And like Bloc Party, they rule. NEON BIBLE gives you what you expect from its title: the mix of absurdly awful and the spiritually significant, and the former makes the latter seem insignificant, but the latter makes the former meaningful. Case in point

“I know a time is coming
All words will lose their meaning
Please show me something that isn't mine
But mine is the only kind that I relate to”

Also:

“Take the poison of your age
Don't lick your fingers when you turn the page
What I know is what you know is right
In the city it's the only light
It's the Neon Bible, the Neon Bible.”

Anyone who saw indie dork/genius Win Butler smash his guitar on Saturday Night Live saw the weird mix of showmanship and dangerously introspective whiplash that we call The Arcade Fire. Avoiding the current trend that everything should be ironic, or should be ironic by not being ironic (which is ironic), these guys sing about human frailty and the panic that you inherit merely by being alive. In 1996, a refrain like this . . .

“Mirror, mirror on the wall / Show me where the bombs will fall”

. . . would have been laughable, some kind of death metal fairy tale scenario you’d listen to while playing DOOM. But today, the Butlers have an ominous sense that there’s no magic, and that sucks. Or maybe it will be transcendent if you can survive it.

By the by, though the Butlers certainly have that White Stripes a-hole singer/sweetheart behind him dichotomy, isn’t it nice to know that this sweetheart actually helps the band be good, and doesn’t just sit in the background wearing funny t-shirts and irrythmically banging a drum.

It’s an amazing album, in many ways more assured and resonant than FUNERAL. Fans of the Fire, like myself, like these guys because they hearken back to a pleasanter time and subtly suggest we can attain it. But they also are really really scared of the world, and it isn’t a geeky fear of bullies or paving the rain forests, but truly archetypal nightmares of sound and fury. Other than Yorke and Tweedy and their groups, there is probably no better match of vocalist and band than than Win and the burned-down arcadium.

Spoon, GA GA GA GA GA

On the flip-side of that aforementioned solemn burning is the Clash-esque GA GA GA GA GA. I more or less resisted all but a few of Spoon’s earlier efforts, but GA . . . has them working at their highest and most joyous. Their lyrics are not so much as screamed, and there’s so much going on in each individual song (even with lines like Oh you know mmm the rhythm and soul Get your hands out your back pockets, boy let it go). There’s a certain simplistic idiocy here that’s what I like about the best 70s punk music, and the up-top tempo of the Talking Heads. After a few listens, I didn’t really love it, but I found myself listening to it almost daily. A great album.

New Pornographers, CHALLENGERS

I have been firmly on record as saying that I like all the relatively recent individual Pornographer’s solo efforts better than than their should-be-superlative supergroup. Neko, Bejar, Newman have each released an album that blew my mind (respectively, FOX CONFESSOR, DESTROYERS RUBIES – my last year number one, and SLOW WONDER, one of my favorite albums of the millennium)

Well, CHALLENGERS is their first that doesn’t make me wish they spent less time together. It’s also the first one that doesn’t have the semblance of what seems to be a dictatorial control by Newman and his tenacity for groovy power-pop. The three songs by Bejar, particularly “Enter White Cecilia” are particular exciting, and makes up for the lack of a 2008 Destroyer release.

If nothing else, it makes excited about the Justice League-style powers of supergroups.

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, SOME LOUD THUNDER

Spoon’s album took me by surprise when I found out I loved it. On the other, SOME LOUD THUNDER had me at its opening. The title track is one of the best songs I’ve heard in years, a sonic explosion of sound and fury that seems to be missing an opening minute. After about two seconds of hard, distorted guitar, Alec Ounsworth announces, “All this talking, you think I’d have something to say.”

More than any album since IN THE AEROPLANE OVER THE SEA, Clap’s new album is a modernist text because its central themes are:

1. The inability for anyone to communicate to anyone
2. The need for love in spite of this
3. The sense that the world is going to collapse
4. The darkness on the edge of town may just be truth
5. The feeling that childhood memories may be the only thoughts that matter
6. Imagery that borders on psychotic, yet lingers profound.
7. Idiotic metaphors that somehow make a lot of sense (I am the coin in your pocket)

But mostly, SOME LOUD THUNDER just owns in a way that no other album has this millennium. That’s right. It’s my favorite album of the millennium. It comes from a band whose first album sounded derivative and kind of stupid, yet still listenable. Their new album shows a potential that no one else seems to grasp. Pitchfork made fun of it. The AV Club says they “overreached” (good!) Rolling Stone (wankers) said, “Alec Ounsworth splashes his warbly David Byrne alto around like cheap paint.”

Listen you sellouts (I’m talking to R.S. here), if Ounsworth and his hand-clappers/yea-sayers were ripping off Byrne, I’d hate them. The fact that they wear their influences on their sleeves (along with Television, which is rare) make them pretty freaking awesome. In reading all the backlash for this masterpiece of an album, the one album that manages to fit inside the aesthetic and transcend it, I’ve learned something valuable about musical criticism: it’s easier to burn down a barn that to build one. All the creeps out there who knocked this are going to change their tune once a future generation rediscovers it and puts it in a proper category.

There, I said it, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah may just be the new Velvet Underground.

More to come, including: Ten best albums I bought in 2008 that didn't come out in 2008, and Ten best songs of 2008

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December 13, 2007

OIL!

If I were a fan of movies like I am of football, PTA's THERE WILL BE BLOOD would be cause for me to paint my chest (I'd need someone to be the P and the A, and I could be the T). A PTA movie is a big announcement for "youres truly;" I'm a zealous fan of his career - even in his wildest excesses (the last forty-five minutes of BOOGIE NIGHTS) or his most irritatingly vague (several sub-plots in MAGNOLIA), his movies offer a kind of filmmaking magic that most directors are embarrassed to engage in. No director captures the way life can be so messy and yet so wonderful, so exhilarating yet so frustrating. I'm particularly indebted to him for turning me on to Aimee Mann, whose soundtrack for the MAGNOLIA film became the soundtrack to my life during my Senior year of college.

If THERE WILL BE BLOOD were being critical hailed as the kind of glorious, sprawling mess (emphasis on mess) that PTA usually makes, I would still be excited. But reviews like this from David Denby and this blurb from AV Club has me as excited about a movie as I have possibly ever been. And, other than the upcoming Liberty Bowl and UM/Georgetown game, perhaps nothing else.

Check out the trailer.

I'm tempted to read the Upton Sinclair novel. Having read NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN before seeing the movie helped me appreciate it more (more on this later); yet based on Denby's review, I'm not going to. Apparently, PTA has adapted this loosely, taking "Sinclair’s bluff, genial oilman and turned him into a demonic character who bears more than a passing resemblance to Melville’s Ahab."

Sadly, we probably won't get it in Memphis until mid-January. But I will be there the day it opens.

I'm back, guys. Keep reading.

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