http://blogcritics.org/ A sinister cabal of superior bloggers on music, books, film, popular culture, politics, and technology - updated continuously. en Copyright 2005-2007 by the authors Wed, 28 Sep 2005 23:55:11 EDT http://backend.userland.com/rss Blogcritics.org custom software http://blogcritics.org/ Phillip WinnSunday, August 26, 2007, marks the switch of all Blogcritics.org article feeds from full-content to short-content. This is the result of several converging factors, and is unfortunately a permanent decision (as permanent as any decision can be on the web, that is). We are aware of all of the reasons that this is a Bad Idea, and we are aware that some of you will be quite upset about having to click on something to read the free content, and we're sorry. Unfortunately, despite great effort, full-content feeds are not currently economically viable. Two other factors are involved: full-content feeds have resulted in an unprecedented level of content theft, with BC content appearing on many websites, usually spam sites, without attribution or permission. This duplicate content causes a cascading set of problems, not the least of which is that search engines generally aren't favorable to duplicate content, and don't always guess correctly. Finally, our RSS advertising partner is strongly in favor of short-content feeds. We hope that you'll continue to subscribe to BC via RSS, and when an article grabs your eye, it's only a click away, still free on the BC website. Thank you for your understanding. Administration0@blogcritics.org Sun, 26 Aug 2007 12:00:00 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/09/28/235511.php MattP"Why aren't I enjoying this?" my friend puzzled last night in what seemed like the fifth hour of the Showtime movie adaptation of the off-Broadway musical Reefer Madness. "It seems like something I should enjoy."I was in the throes of the same dilemma; I had seen and enjoyed the off-Broadway production a few years ago and had been eagerly awaiting the release of Showtime's film version. Much of the winning stage cast reprise their roles in the movie, including the able and handsome Christian Campbell in the lead (looking a bit long in the tooth to be playing a 16 year old, but his winning, guileless smile is so perfect for this part that I won't quibble too much). John Kassir (of Cryptkeeper fame) and Robert Torti also follow from the New York production. The cast is further bolstered by Steven Weber (of the sitcom Wings) and Ana Gasteyer (of SNL). Campbell's sister Neve even makes an appearance. And then there's the formidable Alan Cumming. There are plenty of elaborate, fun dance numbers, and it's clear that Showtime spared little expense - most everything in this movie seems to have been done with thought and care.So why does it fail so miserably? The score is the first problem - while there are some numbers that are good enough to get your toe tapping in the moment, there's hardly a melody you'll remember thirty seconds after it's ended, much less be humming the next day. The orchestrations are outright terrible, like a bad karaoke accompaniment track. The lyrics, while occasionally very funny, are often clever for the sake of cleverness, signifying nothing much. Ultimately, the songs feel a hollow. As a rule, each song goes on at least one verse too long (with the exception of the number that ends the first act, which seems to go on for half of the movie. I began to wonder if it would ever actually end, and had a small existential crisis fearing that the rest of my life would be spent watching them reprise this showtune.) I've got very little to say about the politics of the film. Presumably the target audience is hip enough to have at least a passing familiarity with the original 1936 film that it parodies. The politics are totally over the top - while it scores a few valid (and funny) blows, it's not liable to convert anyone who's against marijuana to see the folly of the drug war. Most of the factual references - even the lies spread by the Hearst media empire, which are explicitly mentioned several times - are liable to go over the head of anyone who isn't already familiar with the history of US drug legislation. It's a shame, really - even understanding that the film is meant to be pure entertainment, it seems like it misses some obvious teachable moments about the truly amazing history of lies and propaganda that caused marijuana to be demonized in the US. (For more on this, I recommend Jack Herer's remarkable book, the text of which is available in its entirely online, The Emperor Wears No Clothes).There are lots of visual references to other movie musicals, and particularly counter-culture musicals. Echoes of Rocky Horror, Hair, Jesus Christ Superstar, Cabaret, and Chicago are all here for eagle-eyed musical fans. The movie is really rather spectacular, visually; costumes and sets are colorful and interesting. However, the prettiness is not enough to rescue the lack of a strong narrative structure, and things particularly seem to fall apart in the second act. Alan Cumming's character is used to frame the movie, a device which worked very well on stage, but only serves to slow down the story in the film version.A lot of things are shuffled from the off-Broadway version - songs cut, the ending changed (not for the better, in my opinion.) The stage musical is engaging and lots of fun; but in this case what worked well when played broadly on stage doesn't come off as well on the small screen, where there is a greater expectation of realism. Suspension of disbelief is easier to come by in a small fringe theater; TV viewers are more likely more removed and more passive than their theater-going counterparts. I finally decided that the reason this movie doesn't work is because a filmmaker can't intentionally do camp. For camp to succeed, on some level the creative team must be fully committed to the pathos, but this movie is never willing to stop winking at the audience, even for a second. It doesn't really aspire to anything other than high camp, but it's too self-aware to be truly campy, and so it ends up as pointless melodrama. We can chalk this classic cautionary tale up as a cautionary tale for makers of movie musicals to come.Further Reading: The lovely and talented Al Barger's Blogcritics review of Reefer Madness The Official Reefer Madness: The Musical web site More stuff by Matthew Poe at midnighthowl.com Video37016@blogcritics.org Wed, 28 Sep 2005 23:55:11 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/12/13/205309.php MattPIf you imagined the Jon Lovitz-voiced character from the old animated show The Critic somehow managed to escape a television set and become a real human, the resulting mental picture would probably be pretty close to Har Mar Superstar. He's not very tall, balding, not thin, and has a penchant for taking off his clothes onstage (although the days of him taking everything off are now behind him, I'm told.)Chalk this up as a victory for the wisdom of not judging books by their covers - Har Mar Superstar rocks. A seemingly endless fount of funk jams, he distills everything that was cool about the Jackson 5 and classic funk into short, sweet tastes of groove, and at a recent Troubadour show in the Los Angeles, the city where his latest record was written and recorded, he was on top of his game.Although he doesn't look like anyone on the top 40 chart, there is something very sexy about Har Mar; he proved this time and again with tongues-out make out sessions with various hot girls in the front of the stage. One rarely sees performers french-kissing their audiences between lyrics, and might suspect there's a good reason for this, but Har Mar manages to make it look almost classy. Over the course of the evening, Har Mar took the mic all over the legendary Troubadour, including into the upstairs VIP room, where he did a hilarious impromptu riff making fun of the Very Important people.Complementing his sense of humor and his sex-appeal are his songwriting skills; his songs are certainly top-40 quality. When spinning his latest disc "The Handler" at the office recently, one of my co-workers asked if it was a new boy-band. It's an honest mistake; Har Mar has penned songs for Christina Aguilera and Kelly Osborne. He does the Justin Timberlake brand of funky R&B jams much, much better than Timberlake, but with an added twist of irony that makes him an icon for the indie kids, as well. During the romantic ballad "O," Har Mar ordered one of the record label guys on the stage along with Revlon model Eva Mendez, instructing them to dance like they were in a high school gym - as nervously and awkwardly as possible. He has that sort of command over his audience; he is so clearly involved in what he's doing and so unafraid of looking like an ass while doing it, he inspires the audience to play along un-selfcousciously as well.Speaking of which, I can't claim complete objectivity in this. I spent a good part of the evening bumping and grinding with a bookkeeper - a stranger - as well as a couple of other women whose names I never got. That's not the sort of thing I normally do, but it's just that sort of music. I can easily attest to the fact that the Har Mar Superstar show was one of the best I saw in 2004. Like his latest album, it's pure, unadulterated (but deceidedly adult) fun.Read more:Har Mar Superstar's official siteRecord Collection's official siteMore from Matthew Poe Music23224@blogcritics.org Mon, 13 Dec 2004 20:53:09 EST http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/12/10/140745.php MattP'Tis the season when music journalists are asked to write two kinds of story: the stories where they look back over the year in its final days and choose its best artists, releases, and moments, and the stories where they attempt to prognosticate, to pretend it's not completely useless to speculate about what the high points of a given musical year will be.The fact is, music is a mercurial business, such that even the mighty media conglomerates rarely announce release schedules much in advance of three months. So, when writing a requisite preview of 2005 recently, I kept my dearest musical hope for 2005 under my hat. Music is not a fair business, and for a multitude of reasons the best bands do not always win - but so far I know of only one debut album in 2005 I'll be standing in line for on the morning of its release: the forthcoming full length from The Golden Republic.I spoke to the Golden Republic's singer and lead guitar player Ben Grimes and bass player Harry Anderson the night after the band's biggest New York show to date, at the storied Bowery Ballroom.To be fair, the band's backstory is not the stuff of musical legend. The core duo of the band, Ben Grimes and Ryan Shank first played together in 1999. The band went though various changes in line-up and in name over the next four years before settling on the current members under a different name, The People. "We've gone through about eleven members total over the years, but then just finally found the right thing that settled in to where people weren't quitting and leaving. It's not like we're hard to work with or anything!" Grimes insisted. "Pretty much everything except myself the lead singer and the drummer, Ryan, has been an endless cast of people."I asked how such a relatively young band had managed to sign with one of the best indie labels in the country, Astralwerks. Ben explained: "It came about because of our illustrious manager. He just knew the right people and actually before he technically started managing us, he played some of our stuff to the label and they loved it. "And we were all like "seriously? You love this? Like, that much?" His self-deprecation is charming, as is his laugh. He continues, "...and we've just kind of been talking ever since that. Then after - God, it's been -it seems like it's been years since we started talking to them - I suppose maybe it has, I don't know. But after a long time of trying to figure out how we were going to do everything, we finally got it all worked out and signed up."Grimes has some very decisive opinions about modern music. I asked him about the comparisons that he thinks will be inevitable when the full length is released, and he surprised me: "We get T-Rex a lot, which I understand because I definitely lean in that direction, and... I'm not really sure. The full length is pretty all over the map. At any given point, you've got you could say that we sound like T-Rex or Tom Petty or any number of things. There are a lot of 70's influences, 80's influences, folk influences, country influences, - there's a lot of stuff we like to digest and make a vital part of what we're doing." "So it's a big blender?" I ask. T Rex was about the last reference I expected to hear, much less Tom Petty. Although, now that he's mentioned them, there are hints of both, to me their influences seem to me to be much more contemporary - shades of Interpol and Franz Ferdinand, mixed into a further evolution of the disco punk sound pioneered by the Gang of Four."It is a big blender," Grimes agrees. "We try to keep it that way. There's so many bands that right now are kind of grabbing onto one band from the 60's or 70's and being like 'okay, we're going to sound like the Cars,' and just make an entire record that just sounds like a Cars record, and I just don't even see the point. They're selling records, they're doing well, and people are grabbing onto that, but especially just from a songwriters point of view I hate it. I hate the idea of doing that. There's so much more out there to take from."Harry adds, "We like to mix it up."Justified or not, the similarity to the Interpol sound is bound to come up again; the Golden Republic's full length was produced by Interpol producer Peter Katis. I asked the band members what they thought Katis' biggest contribution to the disc was.Harry began "A lot of it was stuff that we came up with, he kind of glued it together in a way ..." Ben elaborated "He brought an element of maturity to our songs that I think wasn't there when we got to the studio, and he has a really good ear for little parts and little hooks that you would almost kind of breeze over. He's like 'this is a great thing, and this is a great thing, we need to bring that up.' He made us think more about what we were doing with our songs, and kind of made us grow up a lot as a band, which I think that's the greatest accomplishment that we had from our time in the studio, we just grew up a whole hell of a lot."I asked Grimes what there is to love about contemporary rock. "Well, there has been a return to art and the underground, sort of subculture music lately. In Kansas City, the only radio stations we had for a long time were top 40, and then just recently we've had a couple of radio stations that have started to actually play some pretty interesting stuff and I even heard Steve Earle on the radio recently... People are starting to rediscover the joy of artful music, stuff that requires a little bit of thought."We talked too about the band's local music scene in Kansas City. Grimes made no effort to sugar coat his dislike of the country's cultural capitals. "I think that the coasts are so clogged with ego and motivation and..." Harry volunteers "pretentiousness?" Ben agrees: "...pretentiousness - people who are so caught up in building a name for themselves, and it's like you can only be in that environment for so long where it just seems like you forget what you're really doing and why you're really doing it. I don't know, I just think that it's hard to create art when you have to spend so much time convincing other people what an artist you are. When I asked if he would ever consider moving to one of the coasts, he told me he didn't think he would ever leave Kansas City. His adoration for his hometown was so intense that it practically radiated down the phone line: "I love it there. It's like a big city with a small town feel to it. Everybody's wonderful, everybody helps each other. There isn't a single band in Kansas City that we wouldn't and probably haven't played with, and everybody loves each other. It's like, why leave that just to go live in a place that's bigger?"Although the guys are happily settled in the Midwest, on February 8th you'll find them - in the form of their debut full length - in the new releases section of your local record store. Happily, though you don't have to wait that long - you could (and if you're an aspiring hipster you should) head out right now and get a copy of the EP. If the full length is as good as the EP, these guys deserve to be huge - and you'll be able to say you knew 'em when.Read more...The full transcript of my interview with Ben Grimes and Harry Anderson The Golden Republic's official web site Astralwerks Records official site More from Matthew Poe Music23134@blogcritics.org Fri, 10 Dec 2004 14:07:45 EST http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/12/07/222513.php MattPAt first glance, the similarities between Sondre Lerche and his support band on his current seven-week tour might be less than apparent. Take a closer look at the Norwegian songwriting virtuoso and his tour mates, Kansas City's finest, the Golden Republic, and, well, the reason they've been put together on the same stage still doesn't exactly jump out at you.Over the course of the show on Wednesday night at the famed Troubadour in West Hollywood, I puzzled over what these two artists have in common that warrants a second tour together in as many years. One thing they have in common is passion: you can see fire in the eyes of the members of the Golden Republic and a subtle but compelling intensity in the unassumingly sweet face of Sondre Lerche. These are people doing exactly what they love, people who are savoring the joy of making music. Then there are the brains behind the musical muscle: both Sondre Lerche and The Golden Republic are unabashedly intelligent - they write smartly constructed songs with clever lyrics. Lerche's turn of phrase, in particular, is so wickedly artful one must wonder if it is part of the reason he has not yet found a wider audience; one rarely hears pop music so smart and elegant, and it's not difficult to imagine mainstream radio being perplexed about what to do with it.The Golden Republic started Thursday's show with a set comprised of all four tracks from their recent People EP, adding in a few tracks from the forthcoming Astralwerks full length (to be released on February 8, 2005), and rounding things out with a few older songs. A particular standout was an older song with the hammering sing-along chorus ("they've got a robot that can do what you do."). The EP is one of my favorite discs from 2004, and the live performance acts as confirmation of just how good this band really is - if there is a new American band to watch in 2005, that band is The Golden Republic.Headliner Sondre Lerche came out next. "The thing about Sondre Lerche," the smoky-voiced bartender had told us, "is that he looks like this young guy. And then he comes out, and he has this whole lounge attitude." Lerche was only 19 years old when he released his major label debut in 2002. The bartender was right - there is something uncanny about a guy in his early twenties writing songs that sound like jazz standards. Watching Lerche is like watching magic; his demeanor is warm, humble and friendly, his voice is unfaltering and sure through some very complicated chromatic passages, and his demeanor is that of a seasoned performer. When he throws in the occasional actual standard - the live version of Night and Day he included on his EP, for instance, the fit is so perfect that if you weren't a Cole Porter fan, you could be forgiven for thinking the song was written by Sondre Lerche. Lerche started his set alone, with only a guitar. He proceeded to play through a charming set drawn equally from his debut album, "Faces Down," his 2004 sophomore full length 2004, "Two Way Monologue," and 2003's EP, "Don't Be Shallow." Lerche's most recent LA appearance was supporting Air (who played with full orchestra) and Stereolab at the Hollywood Bowl. For the middle section of Thursday's set he was joined onstage by a charming violinist named Daphne who he met while working on the show at the Bowl. The violin added a striking level of sonic depth to Lerche's guitar and voice - the addition of strings to Lerche's already poignant songs brought lumps to many throats.He closed by asking the members of the Golden Republic back on, who served as his band for the last several songs of the set. These included many of the singles - including the title songs from "Don't Be Shallow" and "Two Way Monologue."It finally became clear why these very different artists have spent so much time on tour together recently: despite some stylistic differences, they work together very well. The addition of the Golden Republic made Lerche's best known songs sound fresh, with a crisp rock and roll edge, while Lerche's sweetness and jazziness forced the guys in the Golden Republic to tone down the rock a bit. Both managed to pull it off with aplomb - turns out Lerche can rock as well as croon, and the Golden Republic can swing as well as rock.Though there's no lack of competition for the title of most underrated songwriter, Sondre Lerche's audiences at the Troubadour last week witnessed an unassailable argument for the Norwegian front runner. Read more: Sondre Lerche Official Site The Golden Republic Official Site Astralwerks Records site Read more from Matthew Poe Music23038@blogcritics.org Tue, 7 Dec 2004 22:25:13 EST http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/12/07/215810.php MattPI'll confess a guilty pleasure: I love Gwen Stefani. Ah, there were days, when I was much younger, when I tried to cloak it in respectability: "yeah, I know they're on a big label now, and gee, I guess that new record does sound pretty mainstream, but they have some cred, man - those first couple albums, they were a real ska band!"I'd even bang on a bit about the third wave of ska in hopes of sounding like I had a clue what I was talking about, to prove that I wasn't just listening to (horrors...!) bubblegum pop.Hell, much younger nothing - I was defending No Doubt's indie respectability right up through the last album, saying moronic things like "yeah, so she's got a little R&B, but I respect her going in a new direction as an artist. She doesn't feel tied to her roots. That's cool. And when you think about it, there's some reggae influence in there yet." If I said something like this to you personally, I'd like to apologize. Please understand that I was desperate, and clutching at straws.I didn't want to face the fact that my hero - and one of the hottest women in rock and roll - had become just another pop act, so I vigorously defended her independent spirit. I eagerly awaited the day that her detractors would have to eat their words: the day she released her solo album and showed the world just what an alternative force to be reckoned with she was.Apparently Gwen doesn't want my help anymore. She probably never did. I see that now. I've got the message loud and clear, because "Love, Angel, Music, Baby," the new solo record from Gwen Stefani is a big, honking pop album. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that there's nothing alternative about this disc. In fact, the majority of it is thematically and stylistically similar to the filler tracks on a Madonna disc.The name irritates me, as well. She's named this album after her clothing line. So Gwen's a fashionista, and that's one of the reasons we love her, but giving a solo record the same name as your line of designer threads smacks of the same sort of cross marketing that grates on my nerves so much. What's next, a tie-in McDonalds Happy Meal toy?But I don't want to sound too grouchy; it's not that there's nothing enjoyable on the disc - "Bubble, Pop, Electric," "Hollaback Girl," and "Harujuku Girls," are all fun. Then there's the Ballard-esque love song "Crash," which immediately brings to mind uncomfortable thoughts of the cult novel and movie of the same name - to the extent that I flinch a bit when it comes on in the car stereo. But this is Gwen Stefani! Surely she's got something more inventive, more coherent, more exciting up her sleeve than this second rate, piecemeal pop album?One of the biggest problems with this disc is its multitude of producers. The producers' names are listed alongside the tracks as though they are at least as important as the titles. The disc lacks a unified feel, and the seven producers who worked on the twelve tracks seem as much to blame as anyone. LAMB doesn't sound like an album at all so much as a collection of would-be singles, none of which besides the first, "What You Waiting For," is up to the standards of Stefani's No Doubt canon. (See the video for "What You Waiting For": Windows Media / Real PlayerThat's a particularly odd thing to say since, perhaps more than any other alternative band in the 90's, Stefani's old outfit No Doubt is considered a singles band. No Doubt was responsible for some of the most iconic songs to hit mainstream airwaves over the last decade, so even once it sinks in that Stefani has opted to make a mediocre pop album, it seems terribly, terribly wrong somehow that her mediocre pop album is bereft of decent singles. The second track on the album, and rumored second single, is a rehashing of Fiddler on the Roof's "If I Were a Rich Man," retitled "Rich Girl" and featuring Eve, and is a particularly uninspired outing. It's undeniably some fun, but, who would have thought Gwen Stefani would need to look to half century old showtunes for inspiration? Surely the well can't be that dry.One suspects that the target audience for this album will enjoy it without regard to its actual quality - Stefani has achieved the status of diva, and her admirers will have made their minds up about this album before having heard it. However, long term fans of No Doubt - the folks who first grew fond of her when she was still making ska records - will be rightly disappointed.On the upside, like most pop music, this album is devilishly insidious, and so if you listen to it long enough, you probably won't be able to help yourself from tapping your toe and/or shaking your ass. Good thing, too, since the probability is relatively low that this disc won't be crammed down our collective throats for the next year or so. Ah, Gwen. I expected more from you. See if I stick up for you again. Read more: Love, Angel, Music, Baby E-Player Gwen Stefani official site Read more from Matthew Poe Music23034@blogcritics.org Tue, 7 Dec 2004 21:58:10 EST http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/10/18/021247.php MattPOne of the most annoying aspects of becoming an adult is forcing oneself to do things one would really rather not do. We all face this eventually - we decide that we had really probably ought to start eating better, going to the gym, struggling through the classic novels, coming up with a budget, showing up at work on time, and whatnot. Most of us are not blessed to have temperaments that derive pleasure from activities like eating roughage, reading thick old dusty books, (many of which weren't even written in English, for God's sake), and spending endless hours on the free weights - and so, as we get older, we strive for self-discipline; we set schedules and goals and, hopefully, get through the things that, in a perfect world, we wouldn't have to do.I'm telling you this by way of explanation as to why it took me a full week to review Hill Country Revue, the new live disc from the North Mississippi Allstars. In general, I like to give a disc a minimum of three attentive listens before I sit down to write about it, but it was the most I could do to force myself to sit down and listen to this disc once. Even then, I couldn't listen all the way though - I could only listen for a minimum of three tracks or so before the ennui won over and the list of things I would rather be listening to (the radio, the sound of paint drying, George W. Bush... ) became so long that it seemed senseless to keep torturing myself.I feel badly about it; I wanted to like this disc, and was hopeful that I would. The lineup of artists - Dickinsons and Burnsides and whatnot - is great. It was recorded live at Bonnaroo, and though I've never been, I've heard some pretty cool Bonnaroo bootlegs in my time. I like some of the North Mississippi Allstars previous work very much and have even been known to get visibly excited when I hear one of their songs on the radio. I am afraid those days are over now, as my principal associations with the band after this last album are bran muffins, pushups and other unpleasant chores.What's most annoying about this record is that, towards the middle, a few of the songs sounded like they might have one or two redeeming qualities: my ears perked up during the opening strains of "Down in Mississippi" and "Never in All My Days". "Thank the lord!" I thought. At least I'll have one nice thing to write about this record! You can imagine the sinking feeling then when these songs, too, quickly turned into dull, extended blues jams.I was hopeful, too, when I saw the publicity still of the electric washboard. You don't get much cooler than an electric washboard, right? Chalk up one point for this disc for featuring an electric washboard. It's played by Cody Dickinson, not to be confused with Cody Burnside, who is credited as providing the "rap vocals" for this train-wreck of a record. I'll answer that before you even take the trouble to ask: yes, southern rock-rap is every bit as ill-advised as it sounds.But there is one nice thing I've got to say about the record - I was very, very grateful that some of the tracks weren't longer than they are. The band very cleverly puts the fear of God into the listener right in the beginning of the album, with a twelve minute medley of horrors that cycles from a tune called Po Black Maddie to one called Skinny Woman and then returns, sadistically, to Po Black Maddie.As ever, I accept that I may be terribly wrong about this disc. I think there's every possibility that if you like - really, really like southern rock, or have a deep and insatiable love for jam bands, or are deaf - you might like this disc quite a lot (or at least, in the last case, be indifferent to it.) However, as you've probably gathered, that was not my reaction.I was raised in the countryside of West Virginia. The nearest neighbors were all relatives and even that was a bit of a walk, so I have become pretty well acquainted with tedium. The second track of the North Mississippi Allstars disc, however, put me in touch with levels of boredom I would have though impossible just one short week ago. I understand that our armed forces are currently playing loud music to torture prisoners in Iraq into giving away secrets. If any of you reading this are "citizen tipsters" for Homeland Security, perhaps you'd be good enough to pass the name of this album on to your contacts - I didn't listen to it at a high volume, but after the tenth track or so, had I any secrets, I would have gladly given them up just to make the damned music stop. Self-discipline, after all, has its limits.Further reading: North Mississippi Allstars Official Site North Mississippi Allstars Tour Schedule Music21101@blogcritics.org Mon, 18 Oct 2004 02:12:47 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/10/18/012933.php MattPAs I took my seat in the cinema on Thursday night, I thought just how far I've come politically in the past couple of years. I have gotten to the point where I have absolutely no desire to be sitting in a room full of liberal oddballs. Unremarkable? Well, you should understand that just a few years ago I was a dyed in the wool college activist type, and at that point, a roomful of liberal nutjobs was my bread and butter, the sort of place that felt like home.On Thursday, after filmmaker Patricia Foulkrod introduced her new documentary The Ground Truth, she let a pro-Kerry filmmaker speak for a moment about the film Going Upriver, screening in the cinema next door. The audience was asked if there were any questions. When a woman popped up and asked a confrontational question about whether people really ought to be supporting Kerry, I had my revelation: these are no longer my people. When it was announced that there would be a song performed at the end of the screening, my friend gripped my leg: "oh please, no songs," he hissed. I couldn't answer; I was too busy hoping the evening wouldn't come to token ethnic minority dancers demonstrating their commitment to diversity with a touching, if not strictly relevant, indigenous floor-show. Please, God don't let them trot out the dancers, I thought to myself. I can't tell you how many left-wing fetes I've attended where the audience has been made to endure tenuously related dance routines.But alas, my fears were unfounded: the angry woman who seemed insistent on making a scene about Kerry was very much in the minority, and the rest of the audience members who asked questions were thoughtful, intelligent, and far less belligerent - which I always find to be a good tone at an anti-war event. The song, sneakily placed before the panel discussion so as to make early departure impossible, was not half as crunchy as it might have been, and thankfully, there were no dancers. The film was moving and well put-together. The Ground Truth is a 30 minute documentary comprised of interviews with soldiers in Iraq, as well as interviews with the director of the National Gulf War Resource Center, a non-profit organization fighting for veterans rights, the director of Operation Truth, an organization which aims to document the stories of the soldiers returning from the present conflict in Iraq, and some of the leaders of Arlington West, a weekly vigil in Santa Monica where activists put up a cross for every American soldier who has died in the Iraqi conflict so far on the beach in Santa Monica.The most inspiring moment of the evening came in the introduction, when Foulkrod told the audience of how tired she was of the whining about everything that could not be shown in the American media. She insists that this nay saying is counterproductive and defeatist: "it's not like we're powerless," she told the audience. Foulkrod speaks with authority on the issue, having spent the past eight months making this documentary, starting out with only with a passion that these stories need to be told. There are two reasons that this film is important: first, it proves Foulkrod's point that passionate people on all political sides ought to stop complaining about what they can't do or say, that they ought to stop nattering on what the media does and doesn't tell them, and focus instead on creating something new that adds to the dialogue. This film proves that goal is very possible, and Foulkrod makes it look (deceptively, I suspect) easy.The second reason that this film is important is that it reminds viewers about the depth and complexity of the world in which we find ourselves - there are some amazing, heart-wrenching stories told in this film in first person, by the people who lived them and whose lives were changed by them. There are some powerful moments, and there are plenty of real people - both soldiers and families - whose lives are being dramatically changed by this war. Why aren't they on television at least as often as the pundits?Of course, that's a naïve question - even as I type it, the answers start accumulating - first, there's the whole culture of the military, which seems not to encourage chattiness about the soldier's feelings, then the administration of the military, which has become more astute than ever at public relations, and then there's the culture of the media, which has become less and less critical of the government, for three.But the film's strongest aspect is that it shows us how many amazing human stories there are to be told about this war, and slaps the viewer in the face with the realization that the people who are most affected by it are hardly ever heard in the media.The discussion afterward outlined some points for agreement: for instance, the proposition that we ought to support our soldiers in terms of giving them proper health care when they return to the US, and that we ought to see to it that they are not financially destroyed or psychologically shattered by the act of service. One hopes these points should be fairly uncontroversial, but the panelists made it clear that these needs often go unfilled. Even the most ardent pacifist hopes that the human needs of soldiers will be attended - that the soldiers should have enough warm food and socks, yet it appears that the US has fallen short on even this basic responsibility. Certainly the most emotional part of the evening came during the panel discussion when a trio of moms of service members killed in Iraq spoke about their experiences as military families, and spoke about losing a child. Lila Lipscomb from Fahrenheit 9/11 was one of the moms. It is clear that being featured in Michael Moore's movie has made her something of a celebrity - in fact, the flier for the screening of the Ground Truth had a picture of her with a microphone with the headline "LILA LIPSCOMB, military mom in 'Fahrenheit 9/11,' SPEAKS OUT!" I find the Warholian phenomenon of her celebrity kind of creepy. It is difficult to think of any Hollywood celebrity more deserving of love, recognition and admiration than this brave mom, and it is safe to say she never had any desire at all for fame on these terms, but still, the whole situation seems fraught. Half of me wanted to hug her, to tell her how her courage and strength is inspirational to me. The other half found it difficult to make eye contact, because I can't begin to imagine how terrible it must be to first have to endure such tragedy, and then to gain such sudden renown for it - like a Faustian bargain that one never signed, but whose consequences must be lived out anyway.As I left the packed screening, I took note of the people around me - the thoughtful questioners, the impassioned activists, the driven filmmaker - and I realized that my initial assessment was wrong. Despite the occasional crackpot question from the audience, I can't think of many places I'd rather spend a Thursday night than in the company of people with strong opinions who, unlike our ruling punditocracy, put their actions and their energies where there mouths are. The Ground Truth is provocative and eye-opening. Foulkrod is currently giving away copies to civic groups and soldiers who want to screen it - check the project's web site for more info. She hopes to cut a feature length version to be released next spring - insisting that this is not an issue that will go away after November 2. One can only hope Patricia Foulkrod's passion and DIY ethic are contagious - she offers a hopeful alternative to resignation about the war stories we're not being told.Further Reading The Ground Truth Official Site Download and watch Going Upriver Operation Truth Official Site National Gulf War Resource Center Official Site Lila Lipscomb's Mother's Tour of Duty Arlington West movie More from Matthew Poe Video21100@blogcritics.org Mon, 18 Oct 2004 01:29:33 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/10/18/011447.php MattPI have a hard time liking an artist who doesn't come off well in interviews. Perhaps that's unfair of me, since there is always the possibility that a journalist has misrepresented or failed to give the full context or tone of the quoted words, but no matter whether I love the music - once I have read a couple of interviews where a singer comes off as smug, conceited, or arrogant, I can never quite think of his or her albums in quite the same way. The exception, I thought, was Badly Drawn Boy, aka Damon Gough. I don't think I have ever read an interview with Gough where I didn't cringe a little at something he said, but nevertheless, I always eagerly anticipate - and generally enjoy - his work quite a lot.So I was particularly excited for the opportunity to see Badly Drawn Boy in concert. The October 12 show at the Avalon in Hollywood demonstrated that Gough has phenomenal talent, and his new album is nearly as good as his work on the About a Boy soundtrack. Tuesday found him eager to play LA; and he anticipated a good show, as Gogh said some of his best concerts have been played in this city. He dedicated the show to LA songwriter Elliott Smith, who he referred to several times over the course of the evening ("Fewer Words" was written after watching a video of Smith shortly after his death; "This Is That New Song" was written with Smith, among others, in mind).A brief Badly Drawn Boy history: Gough's first LP under the Badly Drawn Boy moniker was Hour of Bewilderbeast, released in 2000, which became a college radio smash hit that made Badly Drawn Boy a hipster household name. Then, for two years no full lengths were released; but instead, a series of EPs. In 2002, Gough released the soundtrack album for About a Boy, the Hugh Grant movie based on the Nick Hornby novel. It was here that he began to get noticed by a mainstream audience, and the soundtrack remains, arguably, his best work to date. The same year, Gough released the disappointing Have You Fed the Fish?, which, despite a couple of high points - "You Were Right" is without a doubt one of Gough's finest songs yet - ranks as his weakest record.Badly Drawn Boy seems back on track for the most part with the recently released One Plus One Is One; there's some absolutely lovely stuff on this latest disc. In particular, the title track, "Year of the Rat," and "Four Leaf Clover" are standouts. Gough took the opportunity to share the entirety of the new disc with the album with the audience on Tuesday - he played straight through it. He separated his performance into two halves, with an intermission (that's "interval" to Damon). He apologized at several points for this strategy, claiming that feels "like a recital," but the audience didn't seem to mind - I even heard two attendees behind me contemplate whether to leave at the half, having apparently come only to hear new material.They decided to stay, which was a good move - the second half of the show ran like a greatest hits set, with all albums represented - highlights were "A Minor Incident" and "Silent Sigh," from About a Boy, "40 Days, 40 Fights" and "You Were Right" from Have You Fed the Fish? and "Fall in a River" from Bewilderbeast. There was a vocal contingent of the crowd that wanted to hear more Bewilderbeast, and although they were annoyingly persistent, Gough seemed a little angrier than the situation strictly justified - he told them that he wasn't playing much Bewilderbeast this gig, that he had new records, and called Bewilderbeast the "bane of my existence." He acquiesced, though, and played a couple more tracks off the album. When the audience cried out requests for more songs from the debut LP, Gough told them that he simply wasn't going to play it, and advised them to give up.There were a couple of dark turns in Gough's mood. The most awkward moment in the evening came when Gough told a particularly noisy fan to shut up several times. In the middle of a monologue about how he wished everyone luck with an extended meditation on how he had gotten where he was without stepping on anyone, the fan's loud appreciation became too much for him, and he told her to "shut the fuck up." He warned her that he really meant it, then called her a "stupid bitch," and threw his drink at her - and continued with his feel-good (if somewhat self-aggrandizing) monologue.It's enough to leave a fan with a sort of schizophrenic feeling about Badly Drawn Boy, simultaneously loving his music and intensely disliking him as a person. It doesn't help the confusion that much of Gogh's music is relentlessly positive and upbeat; I can't think of many artists who would write a song as incessantly cheerful and optimistic as "Four Leaf Clover," and the juxtaposition of such good feelings in the lyrics and such bitterness in the between-song banter can be a little difficult to reconcile.Fans of Gogh would be well-advised to see him live - he peppers his set liberally with the stories behind his songs, and terrific anecdotes about his life and his success, but there's a real dark undercurrent to him that's quite unsettling. If anything, in person Gough comes off very much as he does in interviews - unquestionably talented, but also at times arrogant and angry, which left me as unsure how I felt about Badly Drawn Boy when I left the Avalon as I was when I went in.Further Reading Badly Drawn Boy Official Site Badly Drawn Boy Tour Schedule Astralwerks Records Badly Drawn Boy site Avalon Hollywood site More from Matthew Poe Music21099@blogcritics.org Mon, 18 Oct 2004 01:14:47 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/10/05/195556.php MattPThere's something in the water in Los Angeles. Something about the zeitgeist and the mercury levels coming from the taps is convincing the city's bass players that this is the year to go it alone. First there was Melissa Auf der Maur, (a Canadian, yes, but a Canadian who played bass on one of the most quintessentially LA albums ever, Hole's Celebrity Skin). Next, Jennifer Finch of L7 took matters into her own hands and began a new band called the Shocker, where she could do her own vocal duties. Now, self-described "elder statesman" Brent Rademaker has given up the dim corners of the stage for the front and center, with his new band the Frausdots.Rademaker is no stranger to the LA alternative music scene. His resume includes playing bass in three LA bands - Further, The Tyde, and the Beachwood Sparks. Finally, he is writing and singing his own music, and from the sound of it, he was chomping at the bit: "If I hadn't been playing second fiddle in any band I'd ever been in, I would have made this record right out of high school," he claims.The only other permanent member of the Frausdots is Michelle Loiselle, whose list of credits is somewhat less impressive than Rademaker. She sang backup on the Guns and Roses album Use Your Illusion II over a decade ago, and then, if the All Music Guide is to be believed, fell off the musical map. Loiselle contributes vox and synthesizers to the Frausdots, as well as co-writing the tracks. Perhaps the best way to explain this album is to recount Rademaker's explanation of the relationship between its two flagship members: three years ago, they were friends who had decided to write a record together. Then, one magical night in Spain at a Cure gig, Rademaker reports that he and Michelle fell in love.So in love were they, in fact, that they brought the sound home with them: The Cure's Roger O'Donnel is enlisted to play keyboards, along with a first-rate lineup of guest band members, from outfits as diverse as Rooney, the Brian Jonestown Massacre, and of course former bandmates from the Tyde and the Beachwood Sparks.Rademacher also brings with him a healthy dose of irony - the first sound on the record is Rademaker singing a tweaked version of America's "A Horse with No Name," - which quickly resolves into the indie pop gem "Dead Wrong," - whose chorus features Rademaker singing "Now everybody's doing everybody wrong / and everybody's singing everybody else's songs / and everybody thinks that they're in love / they're dead wrong."The first two song titles get the record off to rather a morbid start - one might legitimately worry what he or she is getting into when the first two tracks both mention death ("Dead Wrong," and "Fashion Death Trends,") But don't be fooled into thinking this disc is particularly heavy - despite Radacher's fascination with Echo and the Bunymen and the Cure. While the 80's synth influence in certainly tangible in the production here, this is hardly a goth record. In fact, Couture Couture Couture it has moments of real indie pop perfection. If the title is any indication, the disc is really about fashion - or, more to the point, Rademacher's fascination with the "blur between drugs, music and fashion in the city."Only one complaint about this album: it could be shorter. With half of the tracks clocking in at over 5 minutes, and another three of the tracks nearly that long, some of the tracks seem a bit self-indulgent. A five minute run time, of course, is not the kiss of death for a song strong enough to sustain it, but some of the tracks - particularly near the middle of the album - feel like they are beginning to buckle under their own weight. In particular, despite a lovely chorus, Broken Arrows feels a bit bloated. Then there's the annoyingly hammy point where Rademacher claims "I was a seagull on an endless flight..." on the similarly overlong "The Man Who Dreaded Sundown," but this is nearly compensated for by the drifting loveliness of the melody, and the evocative refrain about "silence running through my veins."In fact, the chief problem with this disc is that it is so exceptionally good right off the bat - the first four tracks are among the best indie rock released so far in 2004 - that the rest of the album seems a little disappointing in comparison. The rest is by no means bad - it's just not up to the expectations the first half of the disc raises. Official Frausdots page at Sub Pop Frausdots Tour Schedule More from Matthew Poe at midnight howl Music20668@blogcritics.org Tue, 5 Oct 2004 19:55:56 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/10/02/142811.php MattPPerhaps the best word yet found to describe Wolf Eyes latest release (and first full length on Sub Pop records) is the critic who diplomatically called it "bracing."Brace yourself, because Burned Mind is not an easy listen. With such aptly titled ditties as "Stabbed in the Face," - which devoted fans know was issued earlier as a 12" - "Urine Burn," and the charming, toe-tapping album opener, "Dead in a Boat," which charitably donates over half its running time to the (comparatively) soothing sound of static, you may well need a Valium to get through.But if the titles don't scare you off, don't let this review dissuade you. There are some aspects of this disc to like. A lot of it sounds as though it was made by a modem that has given up the tiresome task of communicating for other people, and decided instead to play psychotic rhythmic screeches for its own amusement. As improbable as it sounds, it's actually enjoyable, for a little while. But it is far from all this little disc has to offer! Just when the listener grows weary of the modem mixmaster, the boys in Wolf Eyes, ever looking after the fans, begin screaming bloody murder. One assumes that this is an effort to liven things up.I've never understood screamo hardcore. On this disc, it's difficult to discern a single sensible sentence, and after a while, it's tempting to give up trying at all. Given the titles of the tracks (did I mention "Reaper's Gong?"), I assume the tracks are not touching love ballads, at least not in the traditional sense. For all I know, they may be reciting their respective grocery lists; still, they scare the hell out of me.The sonic textures in the first half of "Black Vomit" are particularly nice - provided you don't spend too long contemplating the title. On this track in particular, Nate Young and crew treats listeners to soundscapes worthy of Godspeed, You Black Emperor or any of the finest post-rockers working today. In any case, the screaming starts back up in fairly short order. The screaming Michiganders are nothing if not prolific - since forming in 1996, the band has chalked up over fifty releases in a variety of formats - ranging from vinyl to cassette, DVD to CD, and two of the band's members have their own record labels. They've done their fair share of collaboration as well, working recently with the bands Black Dice and Smegma, among others. These boys bring new meaning to the term DIY - if 66% of your band members have their own respective label, and yet you're releasing a disc on a major indie, you must be doing something right.The trio has also felt its fair share of celebrity love - they recently opened for Andrew WK, where one imagines it might almost have been worth sitting through the show just to see the looks of puzzled dismay on the faces of the frat boy contingent of Andrew WK fans during the opening strains of "Stabbed in the Face."There are also rumors that Wolf Eyes were hand picked by Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore to play the ill-fated Lolapalooza tour this summer - which is too bad, since Wolf Eyes is reported to be band whose energy is best experienced live, not to mention the disappointment of being denied the joy of observing the aforementioned reactions of the suburban kids who would have come chiefly to hear Modest Mouse sing "Float On."If I'm to leave you with anything useful at all from this review, it is that you should not, under any circumstances, listen to this disc while driving in Los Angeles. In many ways, it's the perfect soundtrack for that activity - but all the drills, clanks, static, industrial noise, and terrifying screams just blend right in and you're liable to miss something, like a siren or a pedestrian. At certain points on the record, it would be a miracle if you could hear your own car crashing over the din, and in any case, it's hardly the relaxing melody you'd like as you wait for the paramedics.So, should you come across this record in your local rock emporium when you're in the market for the next Sub Pop slam-dunk indie-pop masterpiece along the lines of the Postal Service, for God's sake, keep browsing. But if the prospect of some post-hardcore post-rock, raw, atmospheric anger intrigues you, Burned Mind would be a stellar start. Read more: Official Wolf Eyes page at Sub Pop Wolf Eyes Tour Schedule more from Matthew Poe at midnight howl Music20582@blogcritics.org Sat, 2 Oct 2004 14:28:11 EDT