If I haven't mentioned this before, I LOVE Stereogum.
Why? Because Stereogum loves me. And you. And everyone who loves music.
Need proof? Go download your memorial day mixtape right now!
Languish in the tunes brought to you by the good people (Brandon Stosuy, I am your disciple) at Stereogum.
God, if only I were a legitimate blog. I want nothing more than to bestow mix after mix upon you four readers.
This will have to do for now. And let's be honest, it probably far surpasses anything I could give you anyway.
(Side note: Does anyone know what "woot" means? Is it SMS speak? I'm confused.)
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
RECORD REVIEWS IN 100 WORDS OR LESS*
M83
Saturdays=Youth
8.5
Things to do this summer:
- Read at least five books
- Work on my lats
- Cure cancer
- Watch all of John Hughes' eighties comedies
- Listen to M83's Saturdays=Youth incessantly
Molly Ringwald, I fucking get you.
*I've stopped counting.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Young @ Heart
Thank God I went to see this alone: I was a wreck. This wonderful documentary proves my theorem: old people rock!
Go see this movie - you'll laugh, you'll rock, but if you don't cry, you don't have a soul.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
RECORD REVIEWS IN 100 WORDS OR LESS
Portishead
Third
8.0
Probably the most anticipated album of the year, Portishead returns after an 11 year hiatus to give us Third. Stunningly it's unlike any Portishead you've ever heard, actually darker than their previous outings, however jettisoning the trip hop of Dummy and Portishead. This is a band that has matured and changed and brought their music with them. The lonely ukulele driven "Deep Water" takes the prize for most unexpected song of the year. While the album is interesting and introspective, it's, I think, a grower that has yet to really grow on me. Enjoyable to the end, but never addicting.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
RECORD REVIEWS IN 100 WORDS OR LESS
Beach House
Devotion
(8.4)
Imagine a house. On a beach. At sunset. The waves lapping the shore. The warm air blowing through your sun dress. Yeah, it feels like that. Take your shoes off. Grab a glass of wine. You won't be going anywhere for a while.
Of course, I could be wrong. Allmusic.com writes, "Their music is so lonely, so haunting, that the only beach house it evokes is a deserted one, stranded on a winter night so desolate that summer isn't even a memory."
Maybe it just depends on your mood. But god damn is it good stuff.
Beach House - Gila
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Number 5
Usually when people ask me what my favorite movie is, I decry the question as impossible and annoying. However, I do enjoy keeping a rotating list of five movies that, at a given point in my life, could be described as favorites. I don't list them in any order. They're just five favorites.
Recently I rediscovered the graduate. (It should be noted, I mentioned this to someone and they said, "You just discovered the Graduate!? Goodness, Senator.") No. The operative word being "REdiscovered." As in I own the movie, knew it was great, but at no point in my life prior to my most recent viewing had I understood it to be so sublime a masterpiece. At this point in my life, it is perfection. And so I stuck it into my top five.
However, upon reexamination of my five, I decided to remove a couple films. Putting me at four with an open spot needing to be filled.
The current four are:
Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind
Punch Drunk Love
The Squid and the Whale
The Graduate
The two now reside in a certain state of ambiguous limbo:
(These movies are still in the running, but have weakened, at least temporarily, from the top five postion)
Amelie -
Obviously, I love this movie. For years it held the coveted top five spot. But I fear that I may be over it. Perhaps it's time to put something else in its place.
Me and You and Everyone We Know -
a film quite unlike any I have ever seen. Bursting with sweetness and pure unfiltered emotion. But when it comes down to it, I don't know that it's a strong enough film to be in such a coveted position.
Other movies in the running:
I'm Not There
Children of Men
The Royal Tenenbaums
Fight Club
Good Will Hunting
Man Bites Dog
Movern Callar
But I'm not yet sold on any of these so I'm asking for your help in picking a fifth. If you have any suggestions, please let me know. I'm looking forward to filling that number 5 spot.
Thanks.
Recently I rediscovered the graduate. (It should be noted, I mentioned this to someone and they said, "You just discovered the Graduate!? Goodness, Senator.") No. The operative word being "REdiscovered." As in I own the movie, knew it was great, but at no point in my life prior to my most recent viewing had I understood it to be so sublime a masterpiece. At this point in my life, it is perfection. And so I stuck it into my top five.
However, upon reexamination of my five, I decided to remove a couple films. Putting me at four with an open spot needing to be filled.
The current four are:
Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind
Punch Drunk Love
The Squid and the Whale
The Graduate
The two now reside in a certain state of ambiguous limbo:
(These movies are still in the running, but have weakened, at least temporarily, from the top five postion)
Amelie -
Obviously, I love this movie. For years it held the coveted top five spot. But I fear that I may be over it. Perhaps it's time to put something else in its place.
Me and You and Everyone We Know -
a film quite unlike any I have ever seen. Bursting with sweetness and pure unfiltered emotion. But when it comes down to it, I don't know that it's a strong enough film to be in such a coveted position.
Other movies in the running:
I'm Not There
Children of Men
The Royal Tenenbaums
Fight Club
Good Will Hunting
Man Bites Dog
Movern Callar
But I'm not yet sold on any of these so I'm asking for your help in picking a fifth. If you have any suggestions, please let me know. I'm looking forward to filling that number 5 spot.
Thanks.
For Procrastination's Sake
Go to Slate's Special Procrastination Issue and put off whatever it is you're putting off by coming to this ridiculous blog.
But if you only read one article, read "Letter to a Young Procrastinator" by Seth Stevens.
But if you only read one article, read "Letter to a Young Procrastinator" by Seth Stevens.
Monday, May 12, 2008
When You Live Next to a Waterfall...
A 7.9 earthquake just hit China killing at least 9,000 people, and that number is rising. A few weeks ago, a cyclone in Burma killed over 100,000 people and dead bodies continue to wash up on those shores. Tornadoes have killed hundreds in the Midwest in the past week. Genocide rages in Darfur, still. Violence continues to escalate in Iraq and Afghanistan. Worldwide inflation is forcing worldwide economic depression. The list goes on.
But what I’m most afraid of is the fact that we’ve become anesthetized. The apocalypse is upon us and we can’t even get up the energy to notice. After eight years of devastation, destruction, and death we’ve become completely numb. When the Twin Towers fell, it was all I could do to stay in school and not rush to my beloved New York to help. When the tsunami crushed Thailand, I rushed to the bloodbank and when the Red Cross told me that they actually had a surplus of blood, because everyone was donating, I sent money. When Hurricane Katrina hit, I donated more blood. More money. The day I graduated from college, I drove 700 miles to Washington, D.C. to take part in the Darfur rally. Later that year, I rallied for Darfur in Central Park.
And now? I see the news and I change the channel. I read an article, the news barely registers, and I move on to the next one. They say that when you live next to a waterfall, you stop hearing it. I know, from having lived in Iowa, that it only takes a few days to stop smelling the shit. If you close one eye, you can see your nose. But with both eyes open, your brain just ignores that piece of perpetual information. It’s our body’s natural defense mechanism. We learn to ignore too much of the same stimulus. That makes sense, of course. How else would we be able to go on living our lives if we let ourselves be crushed by the daily horrors of the world? After five years, we’ve grown tired of the Iraq war. People are still dying, but with no end in sight, the news media just kind of stopped caring. Ho hum, 300 more dead in Iraq. But did you hear what Rev. Wright said!?
A recent study found that Conservatives are happier than Liberals. That shouldn’t surprise anyone. Liberals’ modus operandi is outrage – at injustice, at war, at inequality, prejudice, etc. Their belief tends to be that we can help those people who can’t help themselves. But is anyone surprised that so many of the liberal, idealistic activists of the Sixties and Seventies grew into wealthy conservatives? How long can someone be expected to fight without seeing results? Eventually, exhaustion kicks in and people get tired of being angry. They get tired of fighting. The conservative mindset is a solipsistic one of isolation where the most important fight is for one’s own prosperity. Now that’s a fight that can be won. You might not be able to single handedly end genocide, but you can probably put your kids through college. Who can’t empathize with that? After the past decade, who can’t see the value in that mindset, if for only survival’s sake?
My conservative parents used to gibe me that if you weren’t a liberal as a kid, you didn’t have a heart, and if you weren’t a conservative as an adult, you didn’t have a brain. It’s obvious, of course, that the current batch of Republicans have neither brains, hearts, nor souls, but you’d be hard pressed not to at least understand that sentiment. We only have so much energy to give. Still, I’m writing this today to remind anyone that has become numb to the world, that sometimes it’s important to close one eye, stick that newly visible nose in the shit, then go out to take a look at the waterfall. I know we’re tired, but we have to avoid letting our fatigue turn into indifference. At some point, we need to remember what it was that made us rush to the blood banks and dig into our wallets. If we can’t work up the energy to be outraged, we at least need to remember why we were outraged and understand that there are still things worth fighting for, even though it feels like the fighting may never end.
You can click here to donate to the Burmese monks, which is about the only way to guarantee that aid reaches the people of Burma, since the government would rather pocket your money than use it to help its people.
But what I’m most afraid of is the fact that we’ve become anesthetized. The apocalypse is upon us and we can’t even get up the energy to notice. After eight years of devastation, destruction, and death we’ve become completely numb. When the Twin Towers fell, it was all I could do to stay in school and not rush to my beloved New York to help. When the tsunami crushed Thailand, I rushed to the bloodbank and when the Red Cross told me that they actually had a surplus of blood, because everyone was donating, I sent money. When Hurricane Katrina hit, I donated more blood. More money. The day I graduated from college, I drove 700 miles to Washington, D.C. to take part in the Darfur rally. Later that year, I rallied for Darfur in Central Park.
And now? I see the news and I change the channel. I read an article, the news barely registers, and I move on to the next one. They say that when you live next to a waterfall, you stop hearing it. I know, from having lived in Iowa, that it only takes a few days to stop smelling the shit. If you close one eye, you can see your nose. But with both eyes open, your brain just ignores that piece of perpetual information. It’s our body’s natural defense mechanism. We learn to ignore too much of the same stimulus. That makes sense, of course. How else would we be able to go on living our lives if we let ourselves be crushed by the daily horrors of the world? After five years, we’ve grown tired of the Iraq war. People are still dying, but with no end in sight, the news media just kind of stopped caring. Ho hum, 300 more dead in Iraq. But did you hear what Rev. Wright said!?
A recent study found that Conservatives are happier than Liberals. That shouldn’t surprise anyone. Liberals’ modus operandi is outrage – at injustice, at war, at inequality, prejudice, etc. Their belief tends to be that we can help those people who can’t help themselves. But is anyone surprised that so many of the liberal, idealistic activists of the Sixties and Seventies grew into wealthy conservatives? How long can someone be expected to fight without seeing results? Eventually, exhaustion kicks in and people get tired of being angry. They get tired of fighting. The conservative mindset is a solipsistic one of isolation where the most important fight is for one’s own prosperity. Now that’s a fight that can be won. You might not be able to single handedly end genocide, but you can probably put your kids through college. Who can’t empathize with that? After the past decade, who can’t see the value in that mindset, if for only survival’s sake?
My conservative parents used to gibe me that if you weren’t a liberal as a kid, you didn’t have a heart, and if you weren’t a conservative as an adult, you didn’t have a brain. It’s obvious, of course, that the current batch of Republicans have neither brains, hearts, nor souls, but you’d be hard pressed not to at least understand that sentiment. We only have so much energy to give. Still, I’m writing this today to remind anyone that has become numb to the world, that sometimes it’s important to close one eye, stick that newly visible nose in the shit, then go out to take a look at the waterfall. I know we’re tired, but we have to avoid letting our fatigue turn into indifference. At some point, we need to remember what it was that made us rush to the blood banks and dig into our wallets. If we can’t work up the energy to be outraged, we at least need to remember why we were outraged and understand that there are still things worth fighting for, even though it feels like the fighting may never end.
You can click here to donate to the Burmese monks, which is about the only way to guarantee that aid reaches the people of Burma, since the government would rather pocket your money than use it to help its people.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
RECORD REVIEWS IN 100 WORDS OR LESS
The Dodos
Visiter
(8.1)
From San Francisco. Self-described “Happy hardcore.” Imagine Animal Collective at its pop best on acoustic guitar and stuttering drums without the less appealing avant-garde experimentation that usually invokes a press of the skip button. This was the first album of the year that I was genuinely excited to buy. I went to the record store five times before they got it in stock. Before the album came out, I was obsessed with songs, “Jodi,” and “Ashley,” which mix sweet folky melodies with euphoric rampage. Unfortunately, the rest of the album doesn’t match the heights of those songs. Still great, though.
The Dodos - Jodi
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Speed Racer (Blind Review)
I haven't seen Speed Racer and have no intention of seeing it. Here's my review:
The Wachowski Brothers continue to outdo themselves in their quest to make the worst movie of all time. Unfortunately, they may have set the bar too high with their Matrix sequels. Reloaded holds the crown, but I've heard Revolutions was worse. So we'll just call that a tie. V for Vendetta was hilarious in its horridness - I still have fantasies of kissing the plastic mask of the emotionless girl of my dreams. At least Spiderman was gracious enough to pull the spidy-spandex aside.
With Speed Racer, the Wachowski Brothers succeed in making a movie worse than V, but, unfortunately fall short of the Matrix stink bombs. Sorry, guys. Maybe next time.
Good news for you readers. I've come across some dialog from a pivotal scene in the movie:
Waitress: So your name's Speed, huh?
Speed: Yeah! You wanna race?
Waitress: Not really. I just thought that was a funny name.
Speed: Let's drop acid and race!
Waitress: Um. No thanks.
Speed: I love to race. And drop acid.
Waitress: Hey. That sucked how you died at the end of that Wild movie.
Speed: It didn't suck half as much as this movie.
Waitress:
Speed: Wanna race?
Smart People
The problem with smart people is that they can be really boring sometimes.
Also, is anyone else as annoyed by Ellen Page's shtick as I am?
RECORD REVIEWS IN 100 WORDS OR LESS (give or take 41 words)
THE MOUNTAIN GOATSHERETIC PRIDE
(7.8)
John Darnielle eschews the autobiography of his last two albums and returns to weaving stories of characters in his imagination. While far superior to his previous outing, Get Lonely, Heretic Pride doesn’t hold up to his masterpieces (see: All Hail West Texas, Tallahassee, Sunset Tree). Of course, it would be unfair to hold him to such lofty standards on every album. The record is full of gems – its title track is one of the best songs of his career. For that matter, every song on the album that’s meant to kick ass, does. I just wish he’d quit with the sappy falsetto crap (feel free to skip “So Desperate.”) He’s so much more effective when he’s angry, sarcastic, or funny. This record also has the heaviest production in his catalog – that’s not always a good thing (but it’s frequently quite good).
Friday, May 9, 2008
RECORD REVIEWS IN 100 WORDS OR LESS
MAN MANRabbit Habbits
(8.0)*
Wandering band of hobos from Philadelphia put out their tightest record to date, maintaining the old-timey saloon sound, this time with a little less anarchy. While early leaked singles, Hurly / Burly and Top Drawer are fun for a while, the standout tracks are the back to back 7 minute epics that close the album, meshing heartbreak, harmony, and acid and boasting lines like, “I don’t see what every body sees in your sexy body. All I see is a shallow grave trapped inside a pretty face.” Note: They’re not actually hobos. They are actually awesome. Buy this record.
Top Drawer
*New scoring system. A la pitchfork. I'm not original.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
John Mayer Actually Does Something Good
So last year, some friends and I went up to San Francisco to go camping and attend Neil Young's Bridge Benefit concert for autism. The concert featured Tegan and Sara, Metallica, minuscule sets by Tom Waits and Neil Young, an amazing set by My Morning Jacket, and one of the most offensive sets I've ever seen by John Mayer.
Here's what happened: John goes through his set, eschewing his shitty radio hits (for the most part) in favor of solid bluesy songs with impressive compositions and some stellar guitar play. Nearing the end of his set, we all felt a little different about John. Perhaps we shouldn't rag on him so much. Perhaps his puke inducing songs "Waiting on the World to Change Because I'm Too Lazy to Actually Do Anything Pro-Active" and "Your Body is an Overpriced Amusement Park That Leaves Me Tired, Angry, and Disappointed" don't actually encompass all that is John Mayer. Then, for his finally, he took us out with Tom Petty's "Free Falling." You can feel the energy in the crowd of a few thousand people, all waiting with bated breath to scream the chorus. "Here it comes...here it comes...oh, oh," and we yell "AND I'M..." And you know what John Mayer does? He decides, "Fuck the anthem. I'm gonna shit all over the chorus. You know, really take it down about 50 notches. Make it smooth. Calm." Can you imagine? He gave an audience of over three thousand people the worst fucking case of blue balls. Every time he got to the chorus, we wanted to SCREAM, while he changed the chords and took it down to a whisper, that son of a bitch. After he left the stage, the crowd started singing Free Falling the way it's supposed to be sung - with anthemic, cathartic, Jerry Maguire-like yelling. I've hated John Mayer twice as much as I ever did since that night.
Which brings me to this. After watching this, I kind of don't hate him anymore. In fact, I kind of wouldn't mind hanging out with him. I still don't want to listen to his music, but this is actually very very funny. There's always a place in my heart for self-deprecation.
Here's what happened: John goes through his set, eschewing his shitty radio hits (for the most part) in favor of solid bluesy songs with impressive compositions and some stellar guitar play. Nearing the end of his set, we all felt a little different about John. Perhaps we shouldn't rag on him so much. Perhaps his puke inducing songs "Waiting on the World to Change Because I'm Too Lazy to Actually Do Anything Pro-Active" and "Your Body is an Overpriced Amusement Park That Leaves Me Tired, Angry, and Disappointed" don't actually encompass all that is John Mayer. Then, for his finally, he took us out with Tom Petty's "Free Falling." You can feel the energy in the crowd of a few thousand people, all waiting with bated breath to scream the chorus. "Here it comes...here it comes...oh, oh," and we yell "AND I'M..." And you know what John Mayer does? He decides, "Fuck the anthem. I'm gonna shit all over the chorus. You know, really take it down about 50 notches. Make it smooth. Calm." Can you imagine? He gave an audience of over three thousand people the worst fucking case of blue balls. Every time he got to the chorus, we wanted to SCREAM, while he changed the chords and took it down to a whisper, that son of a bitch. After he left the stage, the crowd started singing Free Falling the way it's supposed to be sung - with anthemic, cathartic, Jerry Maguire-like yelling. I've hated John Mayer twice as much as I ever did since that night.
Which brings me to this. After watching this, I kind of don't hate him anymore. In fact, I kind of wouldn't mind hanging out with him. I still don't want to listen to his music, but this is actually very very funny. There's always a place in my heart for self-deprecation.
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