Friday, June 26, 2009

We Are The World, We Are The Children

Dad: Hey, 10 year old daughter -- do ya know who Michael Jackson is?

10YOD [snidely]: Yah-ah.

Dad: OK. Well, he died.

10YOD [dismissively]: I know.

Dad: Oh. How do you know that?

10YOD [airily]: There's these boys in my Sunday school class who are always talking about Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson. They like, love him or something.

Dad: ... But ... when did they tell you that? I mean, when did you see them? Because he just died today, so...

10YOD [energetically]: Oh! He did?

Dad: Yeah.

10YOD [morosely]: Oh.

Dad: But you know who he is, right? Or was, I guess.

10YOD [haughtily]: Yah-ah. Duh!

Dad: OK.

10YOD [warily]: How old was he?

Dad: Hmmm... I don't know, about my age, maybe a little older.

10YOD [nervously]: Really?

Dad: Yeah, I don't know, I guess he was a few years older than me. When I was a little kid he was a big star. You know, for as sad, twisted and bizarre as his life became, when he was a kid, he was really something. What a talent! He was just electric, you couldn't believe a little kid like that could do the things he did.

10YOD [impertinently]: Yeah, whatever.

Dad: Listen, by the time he was your age, he and his brothers were big stars with hit records, they were on TV all the time, and they bought a huge house in L.A. for their parents and all their brothers and sisters, and they all lived liked kings. What have you been doing these last 10 years?

10YOD [angrily]: Dad!

Dad: And by the way, when was the last time you practiced piano?

10YOD [testily]: ... Dad, I know who Michael Jackson is. You don't have to tell me these things. I know things, OK?

Dad: All right, all right. Did you ever see him perform? Wanna check out some YouTube?

10YOD [brightly]: Yeah!

Dad: OK, searching Jackson 5... Here's one.



Video begins. Dick Clark smoothly introduces a group of fresh-faced youngsters, led by an impossibly cute and charismatic munchkin with a stylin' vest and a foot-high Afro. They begin lip-synching "ABC."

Dad: Huh, huh? What'd I tell you?

10YOD [confusedly]: Wait a minute...!

Dad: What?

10YOD [earnestly]: Was Michael Jackson black?

Dad: ...

Dad: Umm....

Dad: Mmm...

Sunday, April 05, 2009

Video Vault: Nirvana, Heart-Shaped Box


Saturday, March 14, 2009

Listening To: No Line On The Horizon

OK, I've listened to this four or five times now, and here's what I think.

First, my biases:

I was a big U2 fan up through The Unforgettable Fire -- really, as big a fan as you could be. I didn't like their "Irish Cowboy" phase (The Joshua Tree to Rattle and Hum). I started paying attention again during the Zoo years. Achtung Baby was a better concept than an album, but it got them back on track. My favorite U2 album is Zooropa. I like some the Passengers album and some of Pop, probably more than most people. The last two albums were good if a bit safe.

No Line On The Horizon is being pushed as a more experimental album. I say, bring it on.

U2's biggest challenge has always been that they have no groove. In the second half of their career, they've usually approached this problem by dressing up the production on their records rather than revamping their songwriting. On the last two albums, they tried to pass themselves off as a blue-eyed soul group on a couple of songs, and it mostly worked. But most of the other tracks never really got off the ground, at least not until they played them live a couple of dozen times.

The new single, Get On Your Boots, starts off like Vertigo, Jr. and is full of promise, like they're going to keep pushing their boundaries. But it bogs down in the bridge part and veers off into weirdness for the sake of weirdness.

Get On Your Boots sits right in the middle of the album. The album actually opens and closes with two different versions of the title track. So far, I can't tell them apart, but I like the gimmick. It's a good song too, a simple riff and rhythm that they've revisited several times since at least Achtung Baby. The chorus and middle section seem a bit like an attempt to sound like Talking Heads circa Remain In Light -- another trick U2 has tried several times over the years. It is not the last attempt on this album, either.

One thing about U2 the last few years is they haven't been shy about trying to correct their mistakes, or at least improve their near-misses. For example, Vertigo was basically an improvement on Elevation, which itself was maybe an attempt to salvage Last Night On Earth. On the last album, City Of Blinding Lights swung for the fences, trying to be a big classic arena rock anthem, and came up empty. Here, they to back to the well for Magnificent, and it works a lot better. You'll be raising your cell phone high above your head to this one in a stadium near you later this year.

In the same way, Moment Of Surrender is another stab at the duo of Stuck In A Moment and Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own. I think they got it right last time, but this is pretty good too, with a little bit of a reggae lilt.

Unknown Caller is their most explicit rip-off of homage to Remain In Light since at least Lemon. I like it.

OK, seeing a song title like I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight raises all kinds of warning flags. Then there's the lyrics. On the last album, there was one line that was so bizarre that it overwhelmed everything around it: "Freedom has a scent, like the top of a newborn baby's head." In this song, Bono sings, "Every beauty needs to go out with an idiot." Plus, the bass rips off the 20-year-old Jesus Jones hit Right Here, Right Now. Hmmm.

Stand Up Comedy also recycles an old riff from somewhere (maybe Neil Young), and features the line, "Stop helping God across the road like a little old lady."

In fact, this album continues and magnifies the trend that Bono has taken with his lyrics and delivery over the last decade, perhaps first demonstrated on the song New York on All That You Can't Leave Behind. It's a sort of casual, playful, irreverent Beat poet for the 21st century, (too) obviously influenced by rap. When it works, it's an inventive end run around the dead end that faces any rock band in its Xth year. When it doesn't, it produces an entertaining car crash.

Fez: Being Born is more Remain In Light, with the hip-hop trick of throwing in elements from other songs on the album. And here's an interesting thing: Is this album really all that experimental? No, not really. Most of it is pretty conventional, with fairly tame production. The obvious exceptions are this song and Get On Your Boots. This album also marks the return of the Eno-Lanois production team as full partners. Their first collaboration with U2, 25 years ago, was on The Unforgettable Fire, which was also billed as U2's (first) experimental album. Listening to it over the years, it's become obvious that it was pretty straightforward, except for one or two novelty tracks that tilted the whole thing ever-so-slightly toward the avant-garde. Same thing here -- none of which is meant to diminish the finished product, but merely to judge it against its own stated ambitions.

White As Snow, much like a bunch of tracks late in the running order of the last two albums (Peace On Earth, Grace, One Step Closer) is simple, slow and direct. Under the right circumstances, it could be a fan favorite, but it'll probably be overlooked. The granddaddy of this type of U2 song is The First Time, from Zooropa.

Breathe is the tough kid that hangs around with Get On Your Boots, the muscle next to the flash and trash leader of the gang. This one works, and contains perhaps the best example yet of Bono's recent lyrical and vocal style.

Cedars Of Lebanon is back to the vibe of White As Snow, with a more direct and specific lyric about the Middle East. Not too sure about this one. More Remain In Light, together with a vaguely Asian feel that most people will assume is Eno's influence.

One thing I liked about the last two albums was how Bono made a virtue of the limitations of his voice, pushing up against his range on pseudo-soul numbers like In A Little While and Original Of The Species. He seems to have given up on that here, opting instead for a unique mix of Dylan's talking blues and Sinatra's weary lounge act. At least he's not repeating himself.

Overall, I like this album. It's ambitious, a lot less experimental than advertised, with a few major potholes and three or four tracks that will eventually rise above the rest as they become more familiar. The biggest surprise is the almost total absence of anything that has the Edge's fingerprints on it. For better or worse, this is Bono's album.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Watching: The Day of the Jackal

It took me a while to warm up to this movie. The biggest problem is that it begins with the least competent attempted homicide since Double Indemnity. Some disaffected French army guys, pissed off about Charles de Gaulle's capitulation in Algiers, stand along a wide boulevard in Paris and open fire as his motorcade whizzes by at 50 miles 80 kilometres an hour. Of course, they miss. Then the narrator says, "As if by a miracle, neither [de Gaulle] nor anyone else was hurt."

Wha? A miracle? Did these beauzeaus really think they were likely to hit de Gaulle with any of their shots, let alone kill him? Why didn't they roll something out into the road to stop, or at least slow down, his car? Then again, it's just like French soldiers to fail to stop an enemy from advancing past their defenses without even noticing they were there.

Well, guess what? It turns out to be less a dramatic failure of the movie than yet another tactical error by French forces. The whole scene was, basically, historically accurate:

Une:
While the OAS did exist as described in the novel, and the film opens with a remarkably accurate re-enactment of the Jean-Marie Bastien-Thiry-led attempt on President De Gaulle's life, the remaining plot is fiction.
Deux:
The group set themselves up in the Paris suburb of Petit-Clamart on 22 August 1962. De Gaulle's car, an unarmored Citroën DS, and nearby shops were raked with machine gun fire, but de Gaulle, along with his wife and entourage, were able to escape without injury. After the attempt, some fourteen bullet holes were found in the president's vehicle, with another twenty striking the nearby Café Trianon, and an additional one-hundred-eighty-seven found on the pavement. This event was fictionalized in the 1971 book and 1973 film The Day of the Jackal.
With enemies like these, who needs friends?

Here it is, more or less:


Friday, November 07, 2008

These Go To Eleven

Two of the quotes below are from an actual interview with the actual Alan White, drummer for actual prog-rock legends Yes, in the actual Patriot-News this week, actually. The rest are from This Is Spinal Tap. Which is which?

(1) He died in a bizarre gardening accident.

(2) You can't really dust for vomit.

(3) Well, I'm sure I'd feel much worse if I weren't under such heavy sedation.

(4) He actually died for two minutes, but the medics revived him, so he was pretty lucky.

(5) And, uh, it was tragic, really. He exploded on stage.

(6) Dozens of people spontaneously combust each year. It's just not really widely reported.

(7) I think you always feel like he's in the band. I think he feels like he's still part of the band. He's just not in the band at the moment. Who knows? One day he'll come back and do something with the band.

(8) Well, I don't really think that the end can be assessed as of itself as being the end because what does the end feel like? It's like saying when you try to extrapolate the end of the universe, you say, if the universe is indeed infinite, then how - what does that mean? How far is all the way, and then if it stops, what's stopping it, and what's behind what's stopping it? So, what's the end, you know, is my question to you.

(9) They're two distinct types of visionaries, it's like fire and ice, basically. I feel my role in the band is to be somewhere in the middle of that, kind of like lukewarm water.

(10) No. No. No. I feel it's like, it's more like going, going to a, a national park or something. And there's, you know, they preserve the moose. And that's, that's my childhood up there on stage. That moose, you know.

(11) These go to eleven.

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Next...

Now what?

Well, we've still got two wars to fight. I want to see President Obama activate the Texas Air National Guard, call back everybody whose service is in question, and send them over to Iraq pronto.

Also, anybody who had, say, five deferments during the Viet Nam war should be conscripted and sent to the front lines. With the bigger, better Democratic majorities in Congress, it shouldn't be hard to draft and pass the appropriate legislation. Give Cheney a shotgun full of birdshot pellets and send him on his merry way.

Sarah Palin, the exit door from the national stage is thatta-way. Some day, perhaps soon, the bizarre selection of this bizarre personage as a once-great political party's candidate for the second-highest office in the land may be viewed as a beautiful pop art stunt, an electric Kool-Aid freakout of the highest order, a surreal piece of performance art on a par with Salvador Dali arriving at a lecture in a limousine filled with cauliflowers. McCain's identification of Plain Palin as Teh Great Hope Of Th' Republican Party resembled nothing so much as Andy Warhol's cynical, ironic elevation of a series of dope fiends, transvestites and lost little girls as "superstars." Fifteen minutes of fame is just about right. I expect Palin to turn up next on a reality TV show, perhaps sharing living space with Vanilla Ice or one of the kids from Growing Pains.

Who do the Republicans have left? 2012 is a long way off, and 2016 is about a million years away, but who do they have right now? Romney? Giuliani? Arnie? Jeb? Mike Bloomberg? Is Karl Rove going to stitch together some Frankenstein's monster in some dark laboratory somewhere?

John Paul Stevens can safely retire and let President Obama nominate his replacement on the Supreme Court to a friendly Senate.

I would like to see John Edwards play a part in Obama's administration, if he wants to.

The South, seriously, what the hell? Here's the map:


I've said it before: this country actually fought a bloody war to force these Johnny Reb states to stay in the union. At least Florida and Virginia came to their senses this year.

Friday, September 19, 2008

Watching: Vantage Point

Rashomon meets The Manchurian Candidate for drinks at The Battle of Algiers. They get drunk on cheap Spanish wine, then Crash into James Bond, Jason Bourne and JFK. A few months later, they give birth to this premature, underweight bastard retard whoreson of a movie.

What I learned from this movie is that the only thing stopping the terrorists from completing their evil (and complicated) plan to assassinate and/or kidnap the president (William Hurt!) is the serendipity of a little Spanish girl skipping frantically across 8 lanes of Traffic.