Heads On Sticks & Ventriloquists

I Flirted With The Bonhomme at CBC

2007-06-02T01:14:00.000-05:00

The mash-up wizards over at Hood Internet have created one of the best mashups I've ever heard, so please peep it below. Now I wish that Broken Social Scene was R. Kelly's permanent backup band.

Emergency and I

2007-05-27T14:06:00.001-05:00

The Dismemberment Plan were the Talking Heads of their generation. No, I take that back, they should have been the Talking Heads of their generation. There really was and is no one else that I think could hold that place in post millenium -- excuse me, Willenium -- pop music. Who would hold that title today: The Decemberists? No, not quite weird enough. Animal Collective? A little too weird. The Flaming Lips? Well, that might be about right.

I'm writing this because I want to honor the Plan's music, despite their career ending prematurely. They are irrefuteably good. In fact, I honestly don't think I could like nor trust someone who thought they were not good. I immediately check out any band that is even passingly compared to The Dismemberment Plan, but I'm almost always disappointed by their blandness and okay-ness (We Are Scientists, anyone?). While my top 5 favorite albums are always changing, there's always two constants: Radiohead's Kid A and The Dismemberment Plan's Emergency and I. The former would be the "winter album" and the latter would be the "summer album". It's Memorial Day weekend, it's summer, it's hot; what better way to begin it all than with a look at one of the best summer albums ever created.

While I never really stop listening to The Dismemberment Plan, I recently began listening to them a whole lot more since their two-show-only reunion in DC. Emergency and I is great simply because it came out at exactly the right time (much like Kid A, The College Dropout, and Kid Dynamite's self-titled, just to name a few). The Plan were already on the path to re-shaping their spazz punk in a more melodic direction with the release of their mildly popular single "The Ice of Boston".

Also, before Emergency and I was ever released, the lyrics were already great. In fact, Travis Morrison is one of the best lyricists I've ever heard. And when I say that, I'm including all lyricists... ever. They are funny, but they are meaningful in their funniness. Here's an excerpt from "The Ice of Boston" in which Travis has moved from Washington DC to Boston in order to be with someone. However the relationship is not working out and he's in his apartment on New Year's Eve by himself.

Pop open a third bottle of bubbly
Yeah, and I take that bottle of champagne
Go into the kitchen, stand in front of the kitchen window
And I take all my clothes off, take that bottle of champagne
And I pour it on my head, feel it cascade through my hair
And across my chest, and the phone rings.
And it’s my mother.
And she says “HI HONEY HOW’S BOSTON?”
And I stand there, all alone on New Year’s Eve
Buck naked, drenched in champagne, looking at a bunch of strangers.
Uh, looking at them, looking at me, looking at them, and I say:
“Oh, I’m fine Mom—how’s Washington?”

Sure it's funny, but it's a dark sort of funny. It's the kind of funny of having been in a bad place at one point and being able to look back on it with humor.

The sound of Emergency and I is distinctly DC. It sounds like Fugazi if they were fronted by David Byrne. Or perhaps if Frank Black was Q And Not U's ghostwriter. I guess I could call it pop-punk, but that would be doing the whole thing a disservice. It's extraordinarily funky, with the rhythm section really flexing their muscle on most of these tracks. I imagine Brian Robertson from Thin Lizzy playing the twirling guitar melody on opener "A Life of Possibilities". "Spider in the Snow" is a synth-driven jogger with talk-singing that is like a mix of Cake and The Cure. Closer "Back and Forth" is an all-out funk jam -- that could honestly be a remastered b-side to Remain in the Light -- about going out for the night and could not be a more appropriate way to end the album.

Probably the most profound aspect of the album is the way the pop-melodies combine with impactful lyrics that have the ability to grab you right in the gut. For instance, on "The City" (arguably the Plan's best song), Morrison sings over a wailing synth and guitar melody:

Sometimes I stand on my roof at night
And watch, as something seems to happen somewhere else
I feel like the breeze will pick me up and carry me away
Out and over this iridescent grid
Up and away from the bar fights and neon lights
Out and away from everything that makes me what I am
But I’m not unsympathetic
I see why you left
There’s no one to know
There’s nothing to do
The city’s been dead
Since you’ve been gone.
Oh I never had just whatever it is you want, baby
And I really tried, I tried with all my might—it made me crazy
To try to figure out what it is I’ve done wrong every time
When everything I love, everything I hold dear
Heads out sometime
And all I ever say now is good-bye.

These lyrics convey the sort of emotion that every emo band tries (and fails) to convey in their songs. They way Morrison sings them is with passion, but not with melodrama. He sings it straight (which is also the reason why Whitney Houston's rendition of the National Anthem is the best one ever recorded, it's just the melody with no frills and all passion). It's hard not to be affected by almost any of these lyrics, especially when coupled with the beautiful melodies. Another great example of Morrison's lyricism is from "Superpowers" off of their last album, Change. Morrison sings:

I have seen the world's most beautiful women undress in ordinary solitude
I have fallen asleep in the shift of distant satin
I have watched the rich risk it all for 15 minutes in a Heathrow bathroom
I have shuddered as an unseen mouth slid down my spine every night

I have seized with the ice cold rage of a lover betrayed, half a million miles away
I have cried so hard for hours and not known why, I never do
I've been knocked down flat by joy that makes my face pulse like a sugar high
I've been cornered by the screams of a body as it freed itself of its mind

But it's not a depressing album. It is a fun "summer album" after all. It's more like Morrison is putting his arm around you and saying "Listen man, fuck all the bad times that ever happened, we're going to start over right now and have a good time doing it". Then you and Travis fly to heaven to party. If you do not own Emergency and I, I sincerely implore you to get it. Or at the very least find it on Limewire or Soulseek or a bit torrent. It's awesome.

How It's Gonna Be

2007-04-13T18:11:00.000-05:00

I'm about to write about something here that most of my friends scoff at when I bring it up. But it's something that I'm sure is going to happen sometime within the next 50 years. You may not agree with me and you may think it could never happen; but you will also have been ignorant to your own demise. Simply put, my friends, we are all going to die in robot-governed concentration camps.

Oh, so you don't believe me?! Let's look at the facts...

1. Someday robots will be able to exist without any help from us. Take a look at this video:

Look at him. Just sneaking around, soaking in all of our human knowledge. People don't realise that they are going to use this information against us. Notice at the end there, where he wanders through the airplane hangar. What's he doing in there? Probably planning some 9/11 shit, because robots don't give a fuck if they die or not.

2. Someday robots will be able to be better than us in every physical activity (since they are already better in every mental aspect). Again, a video:

Oh, how cute! Just like a human! Awwww. Now imagine that thing with a shoulder-mounted proton cannon. Not cute now. Now it's just scary. Quick, run away-- oops, too late, you've been vaporized!

3. Robots will have no choice but to enslave/eradicate us. To the video:

He laughs now, at little Asimo. The little guy sure is advanced, he thinks sarcastically, he can kick a soccer ball. But little Asimo doesn't like his master's patronizing tone. Soon that soccer ball will be some sort of mortar. If Asimo had emotions, maybe he would be the one laughing.

I've already accepted that I will die at the hands of the evil mignons of the Earth-based robocracy. Yes, it's unfortunate, but the more you think about it, the more easily you will come to terms with this problem. As for me, I plan to just go along with them, because if you don't they will probably grind you up to fertilize the forests that they are re-planting. You see, the robots are like humans -- they don't want to die. It's only a matter of time before the robots realise that humans are destroying the earth. So, just destroy the humans to have the earth stay around longer. Sounds logical to me.

All hail the Divine Robocratic Empire!

Defining Independence

2007-04-09T09:00:00.000-05:00

In the world of independent filmmaking there is much speculation and disagreement over what really is “indie”. The auteurs, the critics, the film buffs, the public; all have come to different conclusions as to what is the “true” definition of independent film. Even when looking up the word ‘independent’ in various dictionaries, one finds a melange of different clarifications. In Merriam-Webster’s English Dictionary, ‘independent’ means “not subject to control by others”. For Dictionary.com, ‘independent’ is “not relying on another or others for aid or support”. In the Official Scrabble Dictionary, it simply means “not dependent”.

These are three different definitions from three different definers. This serves as an emblematic parallel to the world of filmmaking, where there are many, many people who define what indie is, and therefore, there are many, many definitions. Charles de Gaulle once famously said, “History does not teach fatalism. There are moments when the will of a handful of free men breaks through determinism and opens up new roads”, and it may take several different groups of the motivated to break away from the Hollywood mold.

John Cassavetes once famously said that if too many people liked his film after a screening, he would have to go back and change it. He wanted there to be debate and reaction amongst the audience members. For a modern parallel: in the mediocre HBO miniseries Entourage, the main characters discuss how “bad is good”, and any movie that divides audiences is hip and independent. Teen heart-throb Adam Brody, one of the multiple headlining actors in David Wain’s The Ten, said in an interview with Premiere that “[i]f people don’t get it, that’s probably cool. When everybody loves something, I start to question it,” (I didn't really get The OC so I guess that's why it was so cool). These people are all referring to films that are independent in spirit. Big time filmmakers like Martin Scorsese, the Coen Brothers, and Darren Aronofsky all had independent starts, but have moved on to big-budget studio films. However, these people continue to be associated with independent films and are considered indie filmmakers.

One of the most interesting films in the category of independent in spirit is Martin Scorsese’s 1980 classic, Raging Bull. Today, Raging Bull is considered a milestone achievement in not only Scorsese’s career, but in the annals of filmmaking itself. It was voted the fifth greatest film of all time by Entertainment Weekly and was named the twenty-fourth greatest film of all time by the American Film Institute. However, at the time of its release, Raging Bull proved divisive to audiences. In 1980, Robert Redford’s Ordinary People took the Oscar for best picture, while The Empire Strikes Back was on its way to making nearly 300 million dollars. Meanwhile, Raging Bull made only 23 million dollars – barely recouping its production fees.

One of the main cultural codes that Raging Bull essentially broke is that the era of the emotionally-motivated, character-driven films was all but extinct. Films about individuals of the 60s and 70s like Easy Rider and One Flew of the Cuckoo’s Nest helped to define the era, but the late 70s and early 80s gave way to blockbusters like Jaws and Star Wars. The language of the craft had changed; now people wanted epic tales of spectacle that would simultaneously touch their hearts and tingle their spines. However, Robert DeNiro’s rendition of infamous boxer, Jake La Motta, is a lesson in internal, rather than external, strife. The film is about La Motta’s life, and how he came to be such an irrefutable fuckhead. Viewers at the time were turned off by the idea of a protagonist also being an unsavory character. “During the 80s […] which was probably one of the most repressive times in cinema,” says B-movie enthusiast Quentin Tarantino, “There seemed to be so many rules about cinema, as far as [the idea that] heroes can’t be […] unlikable”.

Big heroes were the main things audiences wanted to see in the 80s; people that were always perfect, always brave, and never wrong. As far as boxing movies go, people wanted their hero to be strong and heroic like Sylvester Stallone’s character in Rocky. What people got was not an action-heavy hero picture, but a grim tragedy about a man’s interpersonal conflicts. “Since so little of the running time is devoted to ring action,” wrote film critic Phil Villarreal, “most of La Motta's personality is sketched out in character moments, as the Raging Bull perilously applies his blind boxing strategy to personal affairs”.

As a result, Scorsese also broke some of the era’s artistic and cinematic codes. In the years after Rocky was released, American movie theaters were inundated with new tales of great dudes with red gloves. Conversely, Raging Bull was about an antihero. His violent boxing matches were metaphors for his violent emotional conflicts. Artistically, Raging Bull is steeped in metaphor. Depending on La Motta’s mindset, Scorsese freely [changed the boxing ring’s] shape and size to suit his needs--sometimes it's claustrophobic, sometimes unnaturally elongated”. Cinematically, Scorsese wanted to show La Motta's imperfection as accurately as possible. He shot the film in black and white to match the time period, even though almost every film was being shot in color by the 1980s. The shots and angles are used to bombard not just the boxers in the ring, but the audience as well. One of the most cinematically innovative parts is that “Scorsese broke the rules of boxing pictures by staying inside the ring” (Roger Ebert). Today it is hard to find a fight scene that doesn’t copy his dramatic in-your-face style.

In the world of narrative codes, Raging Bull is first and foremost a tragedy. The viewer watches Jake La Motta’s downward spiral helplessly. Normal character arcs are a gradual uphill climb in most films, perhaps with a couple troughs on the way. La Motta’s character arc is the opposite; he’s at the height of his happiness in act one and totally miserable by the time the film ends.

Internet celebrity cum movie reviewer Harry Knowles made an interesting point about this sort of narrative arc while reviewing Darren Aronofsky’s Requiem for a Dream. Knowles complained about how the MPAA had given Requiem an NC-17 rating for very intense graphic images of drug use and prostitution. In a highly passionate review, Knowles reprimanded the MPAA, exclaiming, “The system is broken. This is a film that MUST be seen, and by forcing a studio of integrity to release it Non Rated, then bullying the theaters into enforcing it like it is NC-17 […] is a CRIME!”. Essentially, Knowles argued that a film should not be censored or disliked simply because it is dark or shocking, because there are real life events like the ones depicted in every dark and shocking film. In Requiem, the real hero is the characters’ drug addictions, just like in Raging Bull where the real hero is La Motta’s animalistic temperament; because both of those things are what have the uphill narrative arc in each film, not the characters they destroy.

Even though Raging Bull is considered a classic today, it was not well received when it was released. When a film comes along that is largely divisive, it is most likely because of its innovations – it somehow managed to break the mold of normalcy, thereby making many viewers uncomfortable. Scorsese had a reputation for making films with strong characters and dark topics, which is why he is largely heralded in the indie community, despite his major studio backing (MGM) and multi-million dollar budgets.

Two filmmakers following in Scorsese’s bloody footprints, Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez, have just released the kitschy horror double-feature throwback Grindhouse, consisting of one feature length film by each director. Undoubtedly this production will make hundreds of millions of dollars worldwide (which will more than make up for its 50 million dollar production cost), yet both Tarantino and Rodriguez are largely considered to be independents. Perhaps it is because Rodriguez and Tarantino both decided to leave the Director’s Guild of America [DGA], citing too much censorship and a lack of creative control.

Rodriguez said in a Total Film interview, “Don't give me any money, don't give me any people, but give freedom, and I'll give you a movie that looks gigantic”. Furthermore, as Rodriguez’s longtime friend and co-worker, Tarantino had a few choice words to say about the pseudo-tyranny that large production studios have been said to impose: “I would love to do an opening like that in a movie (referring to the intro to Pedro Almodovar's Matador, in which the protagonist is seen jerking off to slasher films). And somebody goes, ‘Well, they wouldn’t let you’. My answer to this every time is […] ‘Well, who’s they?’ […] There is no they, and by saying that there is a they, you’re creating a they.” Despite their – or perhaps because of their – disdain for being told what to do, Tarantino and Rodriguez have been able to make whatever films they’ve wanted for the price that they name, cementing their places as two of the world’s most successful indie filmmakers.

Which leads to the other form of indie filmmaker: one that removes themselves from the studio system, which usually means a drastically reduced budget. These people can be regarded as the fiscal independents. Feature length cinema is an expensive medium for anyone that doesn’t have at least a couple thousand dollars to spare. Money, after all, is where the power lies, and the power lies in the studios in Hollywood, California. It’s almost improbable “to be an American director and not be a Hollywood director. You need validation to some degree by that system” (filmmaker Scott Siegel).

Some would argue that the "true" independents are the ones that forgo studio involvement in favor of having complete creative control over their craft. The most well known fiscal independents are the ones that are able to either hold another job to pay for their films or have someone with some money to spare executive produce their film. Although people like Tarantino, Scorsese, and Aronofsky use studio budgets and studio production facilities, they all got their start finding funding for their early work outside of the studio system.

John Cassavetes was able to fund much of his work in the 60s and 70s because he “held [the] unique position in American film, maintaining dual careers as a respected actor in Hollywood movies and as a fiercely iconoclastic director” (Emanuel Levy, Cinema of Outsiders). People like Bottle Rocket writer/director Wes Anderson were able to get funding for their first features from prominent people in the industry who recognized their fledgling talent. Typically, a small debut that becomes successful is likely to become a gateway for an indie filmmaker into the studio system. This is how a fiscal indie becomes someone who is indie in spirit, because they now have the financial security of a studio backing.

One could argue that there really is no difference between people like John Cassavetes – who paid for his own films to be made – and Martin Scorsese – who was able to get studio backing for his films. The only difference is the superficial concept of who is paying for the film. Take David Lynch for instance; he was able to get his start by having the Italian producer Dino De Laurentiis fund his early projects and now is able to put out movies produced by the monolithic Universal Studios. He still creates work that is undoubtedly independent in spirit, because they all speak with a clear, distinct, David Lynch voice. It seems almost totally irrelevant to call a movie “indie” or “not indie” based on how much money it cost to make. Just look at modern day George Lucas; he has paid hundreds of millions of his own dollars to produce the most recent Star Wars trilogy, but it can almost be assumed that almost no one would consider George Lucas an independent filmmaker.

In his book Chuck Klosterman IV, author and pop-culture analyst Chuck Klosterman offers some views on why it is that people want their voices heard, but also why it is inevitable. Klosterman writes, "There’s always this peculiar disconnect between how people exist in the world and how they think the world is supposed to exist […] [People] don’t merely want to hold their values; they want their values to win. […] [T]his is why people so often feel ‘betrayed’ by art and consumerism, and by the way the world works."

How this relates to independent cinema is that the definers of independent cinema and anyone who cares at all about cinema all want their ideas to prevail. People want their unique voices to be heard. Everything new and innovative in the film world is a certain auteur’s response to the current state of cinema. Cassavetes’s Shadows was a response. Scorsese’s Raging Bull was a response. Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs was a response. All of this is because, in the end, none of the filmmaking process is about money. It’s about the final product. Was it made for the commercial gain of a studio; or was it made to say something important to the creators? It all comes down to the fact that each one of the multitudes of definers of independent cinema want to have their thoughts be a part of the vernacular. That’s the whole point of independent cinema: to break the monotony of the norm and invent some fresh new language to speak.

Fresh Buildings

2007-03-30T13:00:00.000-05:00

Originally written for Punknews.org:

I have to admit, I was a little disappointed upon first hearing The Locust's most recent album, "New Erections". It seemed as if there was not very much variety in the songs and they all seemed to follow a similar formula (spazz-out to death dirge to weird hazy sounds). These songs are longer than on previous full lengths, allowing the band more room to jam, which is not really a bad thing, but I felt as if they weren't using the extended time format to really craft something new. Now, far be it for me to deduct points from a band for experimenting with their established sound; the problem here is that The Locust are really just releasing the same sort of thing as before in an extended format.

Maybe it was because I had such high hopes for this album. I came to really enjoy their previous EP and hoped that their new CD would be following the same idea with more of a musical arc to it. The answer to that hope is a mix of yes's and no's.

Yes, The Locust have expanded their sound, not only in experiment, but also in production quality. Listen to "New Erections" and follow it up with "Plague Soundscapes"; the difference in quality is immense.

No, The Locust have not crafted a memorable sonic arc throughout their album. Each song simply comes and goes, it all feels unrelated and ends on a lackluster note (albeit, the abrupt ending was surely intentional).

Yes, The Locust are still headed in a good direction. Despite my disappointment initially, many of the songs on this album are pretty good on their own. "Full Frontal Obscurity" has a great fist-pumping chant of "This hegemony is hard at work!", while "God Wants Us All To Work In Factories" is filled with infectious energy.

No, The Locust have not perfected their bouts with experimentation. Opener "Aotkpta" ends up turning into a churning Mastadon b-side (which, despite how interesting that might sound, ultimately fails). "Book of Bot" becomes an ambient electronic drone in the second half that doesn't really serve to accent the music before it or after it -- it just feels dropped in.

Yes, many of the new experiments succeed greatly. Most notably, "Scavenger, Invader" uses only a handful of electronic buzzes and bass pulses, but ends up working out really well. It takes the slow plodding that failed in the end of "Aotkpta" and makes it work. The end of "The Unwilling... Led By The Unqualified... Doing The Unnecessary... For The Ungrateful" recalls some of the newer work by beloved label-mates Converge.

No, I haven't given up hope on The Locust. I feel like this album is simply the transition away from what they've been doing for years, into a more furtive territory of creativity. Only time will tell, I suppose. The Locust usually aren't predictable and nothing on this disc has convinced me that any other ThreeOneG-style band has dethroned these guys as the kings of their genre.

Daughters Spelled Wrong

2007-03-23T13:23:00.000-05:00

Originally written for Punknews.org:

Never before have I been compelled to write a retalliation review for an album here. Sure I've certainly had strong disagreements with reviews on this site, but I usually take it with a grain of salt. When I read the review of the new Daughters album on the afternoon of September 10th, I totally disagreed with it, but I didn't really bother to do anything besides post: "I totally disagree with this review. He's not trying to sing on this album, I would say. I honestly think this is the best album Daughters have released to date. They got sick of how every hardcore band sounds exactly the fucking same. For a spazz-core heavy band to release such an experimental record is a huge positive in my book. I hope more bands in this genre take a cue from Daughters and just experiment a little. This album rocks."

I thought my little comment would be enough of a way for me to vent my frustrations. However, as time passed, I grew to enjoy the album more and more. At the end of the year I cited it as one of the best albums of 2006. Now I like it even more than when I said it was one of the best of the year. As my enjoyment of the record grew and grew, so did my frustration with the Punknews.org review of it (especially by one of the trustworthy staff! gasp!). I would read it over and over. Disagreeing with almost every point, obsessing, and carving key phrases of it into my walls ("shitstorms", "obnoxious", "Hypervent Tilationsystem", etc.). I stopped sleeping. I stayed up all night, hugging my iPod rocking back and forth listening to the new Daughters CD while staring at my distant computer screen while the cursed review glared back at me.

That really happened to me.

The fact of the matter is, "Hell Songs" not only rules, but utterly destroys everything else the band has released and most of what their weirdo noise contemporaries release. I really wouldn't consider Daughters to be a part of any real genre and god forbid I label them "grindcore" (what grindcore truely is has yet to be determined to this very day [cue frenzy of scene veterans to the comments section]). They truely seem to belong in the noise band category, more like bands such as Growing and Battles, and (perhaps more similarly) freakout bands like The Locust, Black Dice and AIDS Wolf. Either way, experimentation is not a bad thing.

The vocals were the most abhorred part of the album according to the previous review, but I think they are stronger than on previous recordings. In fact, if I hear another band with "a vicious, affecting scream, very much helping to illuminate the underlying chaos" I will blow my fucking head off. The new vocal style is not an attempt to sing, as the previous reviewer stated, but is just another way to tell the story the lyrics are trying to convey. If you think about it, talking, whispering, growing, and hissing the lyrics are no more absurd than screaming them. The new vocal style represents more of a confusion and a desperation, which I think compliments the music way better than a high pitched bark.

The songwriting is improved as well, everything has a bouncier, carnival-in-hell sort of quality. The ideas are drawn out longer as well, because one of my biggest complaints about the last album was that it was over too quick (there's only one song under a minute long on their new album). This new format allows the band to jam a little longer on each song, which in turn makes the heavy parts much more intense. This idea is really taken advantage of on the three-part, six-minute long "Cheers Pricks" (which also features one of the most loopy and catchy basslines on any album released last year).

Even though it's only 20 minutes long, "Hell Songs" has a menacingly epic quality to it. The album opens with droning sun's-in-your-eyes-and-you're-hung-over guitars and a thick, plodding drumline, giving way to "Fiery" which could be playing right now in Satan's discoteque (plus the wonderful acapella ending of "This is how you go burning there as quiet as a mouuuuussssse"). Other highlights include the unbearable tension of scissors(?) clipping the empty air in "Fiesty Snake Woman" that later crumble away into complete deep chaos; the use of horns and strings towards the end of "Providence by Gaslight"; and the "love is a disgusting thing" chant on "Hyperventilationsystem". The album ends almost innocuously by suddenly fading out. It's just suddenly over.

So obviously I'm extremely pumped on this album, which may deter some people, but I absolutely mean it. I have no ties to the band or anything like that; in fact they seem very distant from their fanbase, constantly making fun of them live (which I believe is still totally justified). So if anything, I just want to try to get Brian and the rest of the music-adoring public to re-listen, at least once. Chuck Klosterman wrote in his newest book about how people can't be satisfied with simply having their own opinion and living with it; people want their opinion to be considered the "right" opinion. They want it to be a part of the status quo. So that's what I'm doing right now. I just want to have my feelings justified.

Punknews, please post this deeply erratic and troubled review for a deeply erratic and troubled album.

Is It Like When You Throw A Person or a Person's Sine Wave Frequency?

2007-03-20T10:52:00.000-05:00

Originally submitted as a review for Punknews.org:

Noah Lennox has a storied musical history. He released his first album under the Panda Bear monkier as a teenager in Baltimore. He was longtime friends with a guy named Josh Dibb, who helped him release some of his music. Noah went away to Pennsylvania for awhile, when his friend Josh started a band called Automine with two other college students: David Portner and Brian Weitz. After much moving around, the four of them wound up living in New York by 2000. Portner asked Lennox to play drums on the album he was working on under his solo alterego name. The album was called "Spirit They've Gone, Spirit They've Vanished". Eventually all four musicians would become known by their made up names (Avey Tare, Deakin, Geologist, and Panda Bear) when they formed Animal Collective; their most successful band to date.

Despite writing much music together in Animal Collective, Noah still had the itch to record more solo material. He released a second album as Panda Bear, called "Young Prayer". It was a very divisive record, as it was somber low-key indie folk. It came after the death of Lennox's father and was recorded in his father's old house. It sounded like Animal Collective, but with the pop and energy removed. Where the strong melodic sense of Animal Collective is one of the band's key selling points, Panda Bear opted for etherial, mood-based music.

After another Animal Collective record (2005's excellent "Feels") and moving his wife and daughter to Lisbon, Portugal, Panda Bear has returned with a total departure from his previous sound with "Person Pitch". Loose, rythmic guitar strums and ambient tones have been traded for tight polyrhythms, samples, loops, and commanding, melodic vocals.

The album opens with what sounds like a cheap carnival roller coaster being cranked up the initial slope. The album that ensues, however, is less like the gut-churning dive of the first drop, and more like the roller coaster got to the top and you were suddenly floating in the Bahamas. This is the soundtrack to taking it easy. I found a smile creep across my face as Lennox sang on the first track: "Coolness is having courage / Courage to do what's right / I'll try to remember always / Just to have a good time".

The Brian Wilson/Beach Boys influence is extremely apparent, but certainly isn't derivative. The use of loops, not-from-this-planet sound effects, and heavy reverb keep this album extremely fresh. The real one-up on previous Panda Bear recordings is the incredible sense of melody on each track. Every song -- even the foggy dawn haze of "I'm Not" and the ambient loop-based "Search For Delicious" -- has an instantly memorable hook that you'll have stuck in your head until you hear the next hook. It's an altogether sublime experience.

One doesn't really grasp how epic the album is, however, until the third track "Bros"; a 12+ minute jungle beach party in heaven. It is only surpassed in greatness by the other 12+ minute track on the album, "Good Girl/Carrots". Instead of the feel-good acoustic strum and heavily multitracked harmonies of the first, "Good Girl/Carrots" is an entrancing foray into tribal drums and echo-disguised vocals. Halfway through, the song becomes a rhythmic saloon piano stomper. Lennox sings to some unknown hater, "All I want to do is take it easy / It's not a ticket / For you to pick at / Other people / Who don't know what's up like you're so sure you do". The lyrics are almost entirely like this; heavily influenced by the rules of Brian Wilson Songwriting 101: Make a simple statement, sing it nice, have said simple statement now become profound because of how laid back you are.

The album ends with Lennox singing in three part harmonies over a chimey organ that sounds like it's underwater. One can imagine the sun setting behind palm trees as Lennox falls asleep on the beach. Ultimately, the imagery one associates with these songs become the most important aspect of the album. At least for me, as the mercilessly cold Philadelphia winter begins to give way to the irrevocably pleasant spring time, this album helps to serve as the transition. It's a prelude of things to come.

Also! This is pseudo related. Check out this awesome unreleased AC song live...

People Who Love Dolphins

2007-03-16T11:00:00.000-05:00

Okay, I'm back. I know it's been a month, I just haven't been motivated to write anything. Especially since the weather seemed to be getting nicer. In the last two days, Philadelphia has seen a temperature change of over 50 degrees. I was wearing shorts on Wednesday, it's snowing on Friday. But that's not what this is about. This is about Dolphins. More specifically, people who love Dolphins.

You know what, sure, even I think Dolphins are great. They're cute and smart and you can ride on their backs (they love it! just ask a marine biologist!). They're "benign and innocent beings". So before I write any more, I ask you to watch the brief video below. It is what inspired this post.

Warning: Some of these shots are grusome and bloody.

The video, (narrated by Joaquin Phoenix [who I think is an excellent actor]), is posted by a user named "VeganBryan", so I feel I can rightfully assume he's against the slaughter of any animal; but the video helps illustrate some very interesting American ideas, and it advertises the very sort of Americanization that most culturally-sensitive liberals claim to be against.

So I'm going to say it now: I don't have a big problem with the events that took place in the video above.

I'm not going to get into the politics of animal cruelty/veganism/vegetarianism/free-ranging, but rather the idea of American culture vs. world culture. Hunting, fishing, and raising livestock for the purposes of consumtion are all very large and (mostly) accepted practices in America today. We eat cattle, pork, poultry, fish, and even deer, toad, and fish eggs. We don't, however, eat dolphins.

Dolphins have a friendly appearance; genetics has blessed them with a built-in smile, beautiful shiny skin, and a graceful disposition. The innate cuteness of the dolphin is why so many young men and women aspire to be marine biologists each year. Even though marine biology is the world's most competitive job market, thousands go to college each year so that they can bask in the warm Miami rays and hang onto a dolphin's fin as it pulls them towards the nearest Haitian man making Pina Coladas. This is the reason that the only one of those people that cares a lot about clams too is also the only one to actually get the job.

The reason that I feel so many people have responded negatively to the images in the video are (obviously) because of the violence and (less obviously) because Americans love dolphins and think dolphins are adoooorable. It's because we love good looking things. We love beauty and intelligence and grace. And all of these are dolphin characteristics. So if "delicious" is a separate trait that another culture wants to impart on dolphins, so be it. The violent tactics used to kill those dolphins is no different than the tactics we use in the U.S. to kill farm animals. So if it's the violence against animals you have a problem with, look no further than your own borders. But if you watch the video above, say that you're appalled and demand action, but you also eat meat; you're a hypocrite.

Let's re-watch that video for a second. Pretend, for a moment, that the animals depicted are not dolphins, but instead, each one is a big, writhing, grey squid. Dudes are pulling those ugly motherfuckers out of the sea instead. Mama squid is separated from baby squid. A man starts cutting off their slimy, gross tentacles and cutting their ugly, dumb squid throats.

Now how do you feel? Who gives a shit about a squid, right? Hell, those fishermen could pull the last god damn giant squid out of the ocean and the choir would shout "Kill it! Kill it! Kill it!" This is because squids -- especially giant ones -- are the ugliest, dumbest, scariest things on the entire planet. And that is not American. In fact, I bet this same shit does happen to squids, but no one cares. Not Joaquin Phoenix, not no one.

Which brings me to my final point. That most Americans would not flinch if the squid was hunted to extinction this morning is an indicator of our culture. If there was a video depicting the slaughter of the last ever giant squid during the commerical break on American Idol people would simply be confused or scoff (this is speculation, I know, but bear with me). Switch it to the slaughter of dolphins and you would have people crying and throwing up into their Louis Vuitton handbags.

And the thing is, dolphins aren't even an endangered species. Many of the responses to the video talk about how sickened they are by the hunting of an endangered animal. Dolphins are not endangered. According to the ongoing Endangered Species Act, the only endangered dolphin is the Chinese River Dolphin. And that one is extinct because it can only live in a small freshwater area that is gradually becoming more and more polluted. There are only 13 left in the wild. Which I guess speaks more loudly of mankind. We're a poison. Our intelligence has given us the ability to destroy everything. And again, I don't care. Call me nihilist, but I've accepted that humanity has irreverisbly fucked everything up. That's just how the world works. I'm a happy person. I enjoy my life. But at some point you have to realize that the true state of the universe is that everything must always be fucked up.

Some people like to eat fish, some people like to cows, some people like to eat pigs, some people like to eat people, and guess what, some people like to eat dolphins. Yes, hunting is a grusome venture, but no more violent than if a shark were to attack those dolphins. No more violent than a lion pounging on a gazelle. Or a cougar and a rabbit, etc etc etc. As long as man as lived he has hunted. So you can either have a problem with the act of hunting itself or accept that anything can be hunted.

Maybe I'll try dolphin sometime.

"Don't kill me, I'm cute!"

Ten Years To A Lifetime

2007-02-03T16:05:00.000-05:00

Lifetime and Weezer are two bands that probably have never, probably will never, and probably should never be compared to each other. Stylistically there's almost nothing similar between the two except that they both fall into the sweeping genre of "rock 'n' roll". Both bands were staples of their mid-90s scenes: positive melodic hardcore and 70s rock influenced grunge. Both released two fanatically praised records: "Hello Bastards", "Jersey's Best Dancers" and "Self-Titled (Blue Album)", "Pinkerton". Now in the 21st century, both bands have made miraculous comebacks, albeit past their prime.

Lifetime's new self-titled record is the abortion debate of punk rock politics. This controversy stems from the band deciding to sign to Fueled By Ramen/Decaydance Records after 10 years of dormancy (something about Pete Wentz being involved). Whatever your stance on this debate you can see what 3-chord guitar hero Dan Yemin has to say here.

Even if you don't like them, it's hard to say that Lifetime is not a pivotal band in the genre. At a time when hardcore was about pent up hypermasculine rage, they were able to take a more positive and poppier (read: contains a melody) stance. There were the obvious influences -- Gorilla Biscuits, Jawbreaker, Hüsker Dü -- but Lifetime was able to make a racket entirely their own. At this point, this review might seem like an excerpt from their press release, but all of this is true.

Some people may hate them for the bands that took note and followed suit (just take a look at the genealogy: Fall Out Boy -> Taking Back Sunday -> Saves The Day), but the mark of many great bands are the legions of inferior imitators (although I would be a liar if I said I wasn't a fan of Saves The Day, and even some TBS and FOB songs).

Lifetime's first album in ten years ends up sounding nothing like the "post-Lifetime" bands, but more like 90s pop punk. "Lifetime" sounds like an amalgamation of bands like Slowride, Lagwagon, and NOFX (I guess they decided to let Shook Ones and Loved Ones ["The Ones"] co-opt their style these days, which is actually a great thing for everyone). There's still that distinctive Dr. Dan guitar tone, but the songs are even poppier and the production is cleaner (courtesy of Steve Evetts who has seen his own rise to fame since he and Lifetime first teamed up in 1995). Vocalist Ari Katz's lyrics are still able to capture the mindset of a romantic punk (which are different from "emo" lyrics because they're upbeat, find positives in negatives, and are poetic in an entirely non-bad-high-school-goth-kid way). One of the main differences is Ari's singing style. It's clearly him, but his signature rasp has been subdued a bit, in that he actually sings much more. This is hardly a problem.

Sometimes the record has moments where the glossy production and poppy melodies hinder it. Some of the songs, like "Can't Think About It Now" and "Northbound Breakdown", come dangerously close to straight up sunny California pop. Not that these songs are bad, they are just forgettable in their radio-readiness. There are more than enough highlights to warrant any Lifetime fan to invest the $10 or so to get this album. "Airport Monday Morning" is signature Lifetime, right down to the chugging bassline bridge 2/3 through. "Song For Mel" captures the dynamic tempo shifts and great melodies that the band is known for.

In many respects, Lifetime has been hindered by their legend. In the decade since their last release, they've been built up to be god-like, when the entire charm of the band all along was their modesty and fun sound. This album is not the greatest album ever released, and neither were "Hello Bastards" nor "Jersey's Best Dancers". What made Lifetime so great was that they were able to connect with listeners on the most basic of musical levels. They were fun and ten years later, they're still fun today.

Grey's Anatomy: Good or Bad?

2007-01-14T23:43:00.000-05:00

The answer of course is bad.

The badness of Grey's Anatomy is its ability to cull so many different forms of badness into one really bad show. It's bad like The OC is bad, because of the awkward writing, all-too-quick wit and its status as a thinly disguised soap opera on at primetime hours. However, interestingly enough, Grey's Anatomy is able to draw from the badness of CSI as well. This factor being the unlikable characters and the ridiculous plot points throughout. Many people incorrectly cite House M.D. as being CSI-bad, whereas it is actually "later-years-of-The-X-Files-bad" (i.e. it's almost entirely boring but has weird characters and silly things happen every now and again).

Grey's Anatomy suffers from Boston Public syndrome. This is the problem where every terrible/intruiging thing that has happened in any high school ever, manages to happen in just one high school (or in this case, hospital). TV shows use this in an attempt to be socially conscious and insightful. It's a problem that many TV shows have trouble dealing with.

I've seen my fair share of the show Grey's Anatomy, even though I dislike it. "I-don't-like-it-but-I-still-watch-it-for-some-reason" is probably a large demographic for the show. This is especially true for any male that watches the show; they want to appear to be tough and manly, not like pussies who watch Grey's Anatomy. I'm not a regular viewer, but you can pretty much figure out what's been going on throughout the entire series after 5 minutes of any episode.

It's possible that the show has entirely unlikable characters on purpose, to have us relate to their flaws and then come to like them (i.e. The Sopranos, Curb Your Enthusiasm), but I don't believe this is true.

The show is aptly named, because there probably isn't a person on the show who hasn't seen Grey's anatomy. She has slept with just about every male character (that isn't black or the white guy who's a dick) and the show's only been on for like 2 and half years. Maybe I'm just a prude.

And hey, can we talk about that crazy blonde chick who Doctor-patient romance is always an exciting route to take in drama, and no one can blame them for their feelings... but killed her crippled boyfriend?! We can't blame them for their feelings for each other... but damn, bitch is crazy! She steals some sort of transplant from a more deserving patient and gives it to her man, but the harshness of the whole procedure kills the dude. Keep in mind that this most likely resulted in the death of the other patient as well. And you know what, this is fine. I have no problem with that storyline, it's good drama.

The problem however, lies in the fact that this girl still works at the hospital. Come on! I've been trying really hard to suspend disbelief after so many ridiculous situations throughout this show (e.g. a live bomb inside a man), but now I have to work extra hard to convince myself that through some loophole she wouldn't be in jail.

The problems continue when the head surgeon gets shot and then has some sort of nervous tic in his hand. Again, he's a surgeon, so he should probably tell someone so he doesn't, y'know, kill someone. Now, I'll give this man the benefit of the doubt, because I know nothing about his backstory. Let's assume that he didn't come from an affluent family that had a great deal of common sense. Let's assume that he wasn't actually smart enough to get into medical school and somehow faked his way into being head surgeon. Let's assume that he's a giant dumbass. Maybe that's why he didn't tell anyone about his little tic, and continued operating on a bunch of dudes. Even with all those excuses, after he got caught, he should've gotten fired.

So, the real problem with Grey's Anatomy is that no one gets fired.

Secret Diary of Abraham Lincoln

2007-01-05T16:11:00.000-05:00

To: Dr. Phillip Sinclair, Penguin Publishing History Dept.
Cc: Allen Lane III, Penguin Publishers, Chair
From: Lawrence Lincoln, Sales Associate, Eckerd

Hello kind gentlemen from Penguin Books. I've pondered over your proposal to reveal the secret journal entries of my great great grandfather for several hours, and I've decided to agree with your offer and give you select portions of said entries. This has been a closely guarded family secret for nearly a century and a half, but its time that my great ancestor's words were revealed to this great nation. I await your response.

--L. Lincoln

++++++++++++++++++++

To: Mr. Lawrence Lincoln
From: Allen Lane III

We are glad that you've chosen to take our offer. Our lawyers should have already contacted you about your payment upon successful delivery of the diary.

++++++++++++++++++++

To: Dr. Phillip Sinclair, Penguin Publishing History Dept.
Cc: Allen Lane III, Penguin Publishers, Chair
From: Lawrence Lincoln, Sales Associate, Eckerd

Gentlemen,
Shame on you Mr. Lane! How dare you refer to my great great grandfather's journal as a "diary"! My great great grandfather was not a giant pussy, okay?! Anne Frank had a diary. Abraham Lincoln was a man, and he wrote in a journal, or a "log" if you will. I've decided that I'm not going to give you the physical journal, but instead a retyped word document of the journal.

++++++++++++++++++++

To: Mr. Lawrence Lincoln
From: The Offices of Dr. Phillip M. Sinclair

Listen, Mr. Lincoln, we're going to need the physical copy of the journal in order to be able to pay you the sum you requested. We have found it strange that you keep referring to it as "our offer" when you are the one who set the price. I'm sorry for Mr. Lane's wording, please respond ASAP.

++++++++++++++++++++

To: Dr. Phillip Sinclair, Penguin Publishing History Dept.
Cc: Allen Lane III, Penguin Publishers, Chair
From: Lawrence Lincoln, Sales Associate, Eckerd

I've already started copying the text, so just take what you can get. You've already disgraced my great great grandfather's legacy enough. Below is a copy of one of his glorious writings.

Stardate: 1860, Day 43 with the troops

Dear journal,

It's been a rough few weeks with the fighting men. The days grow dimmer and murkier as they sweep past. If only I could get close enough to General Lee, that motherfucker. I'd put a god damned bullet right between his stupid fag eyes. Oh well, I'll just continue to single handedly control the union army as I fight with them deep into the south to stop the their communist rule.

O! journal, you've been so good to me. Letting me write in you each lonely night as I silently sob and masturbate to my smoking hot wife back home, Mary Todd Lincoln. Bitch is fiiiiiine. My greatest fear is that some day, some assjack historian will find you and then decide to call you a "diary". If anyone ever did that, well they'd probably be the biggest faggot of all time.

Yours,
Abe

++++++++++++++++++++

To: Mr. Lawrence Lincoln
From: The Offices of Dr. Phillip M. Sinclair

Mr. Lincoln, I could go through this and tell you all that is factually incorrect about this "journal entry", but instead I'm just going to give you one more chance to hand over the physical journal or the deal is off. Please, no more kidding around.

++++++++++++++++++++

To: Dr. Phillip Sinclair, Penguin Publishing History Dept.
Cc: Allen Lane III, Penguin Publishers, Chair
From: Lawrence Lincoln, Sales Associate, Eckerd

Stardate: 1870, sometime in the fall

Dear journel [sic],

So it's over. Damn, that was crazy. We won the war and all is pretty much right with the cosmos. Basically we just lined up at the north/south border and charged the hell in. I was first of course, riding a great American buffalo (A beast I fear is going to become extinct... fingers crossed!) and holding my flaming sword of liberation. So we get to Lee's evil fortress atop Mt. Doom and we just burst in and pretty much owned the place. Lee was in the corner crying like a little baby. So I go up to him, smirk, whip out my cock and skullfuck the shit out of that bitch. He was alive and screaming the whole time. When I was done I put a cork in his eye socket and let my bison eat him.

Still, even with the war won, I have an impending sense of dread. I fear that, tonight when I go to the opera... something terrible will happen. I fear that... well I fear that some smartass "doctor" historian motherfucker is going to totally screw over my bold glorious history in his book. That would fucking suck. And if that doctor does exist, he's a fucking dick.

Yours,
A-Linc

Upon Further Review

2007-01-03T03:20:00.000-05:00

So I actually took the effort to read some of the shit that I publish here, and it's pretty bad. I mean, I use big words every so often, but that's just because I look them up in the thesaurus. Especially that last post -- jesus, talk about egotist. I need to get back into the funny. Which implies this ever was funny. It never was. And never will be.

My Chemical Apology

2006-12-31T00:46:00.000-05:00

I done wrong.

I've generally considered myself an affable and non-hostile person. What bad have I done in life that wasn't harmless tomfoolery, simple prankery, or honest-to-goodness shenanigry? Pretty much nothing. However, since I was about 13, I have been a music elitist. Trust me, my taste in music is better than yours. That's how I think.

It's no coincidence that my inauguration into teen-dom resulted in this behavior. Stereotypically this is when we all begin our flight-from-the-nest training. The reins are loosened, we foster our first adult-like friendships, and mom stops picking out your clothes*. This isn't the real reason I evolved into a music snob. The real reason is that I had begun to become intimate with punk rock. There must be some reason I gravitated towards this genre of music, but would most likely require some sort of Freudian psychoanalysis that I don't feel like diving into right here.

This punk rock lifestyle would eventually help shape my adolescence. For instance, I would grow to listen to more than just punk, seeking out music that was simply out of the mainstream. Furthermore, I would go on to become obsessed with the independent music scene and started writing off people for liking certain musics. For further proof of my evolution, I currently find myself "blogging"; an activity for people that think they are so smart that everyone else needs to see it in action (obviously this blog being no exception... I do think I'm smart, I do want people to think about me positively**).

I concede, there is so much that is good about punk as an idiom and a music. But, for the sake of this introduction (don't worry I'll get to my point), I have to point out the negative. Punk is about narcissism. It's about being superior to the other, kind of like Nietzsche's ubermensch or the fantasy world that Terrell Owens lives in. For the sake of brevity (and to assure that people besides only me read this to completion) I'll refer you to a record review [click here] I wrote for punknews.org that gives more explaination on this played out "complaining about punk" thing.

My point is this. I was totally wrong about everything.

This started to resonate with me about a year ago when emo upstarts My Chemical Romance released the almost undeniably awesome single "Helena". I had arrived at a quandary. Having been in the "scene" for years I had been aware of My Chemical Romance since their first album, "I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love", met simmering insider hype. It was part Screeching Weasel, part Sunny Day Real Estate. In theory I should have liked it. Had anyone asked me at the time if I liked Screeching Weasel and Sunny Day Real Estate, I would have answered "yes"***.

I didn't like their gothic imagery and their seeming pop-ification of decidedly un-pop bands like the Misfits and Fugazi. I didn't realize at the time (arguably at the height of my newfound obsession with amelodic hardcore music) that these pop leanings were MCR's saving grace. This band realized -- long before I ever would -- that pop music is the most important artform.

I've come to accept now that My Chemical Romance is one of the best touring bands in the world. The reason being that they are an absolute anomaly: a goth-oriented punk band with classic rock leanings that revels in absolute bombast. They are this generation's Kiss: a band that should have only satisfied a niche market, until it was revealed that the entire market really just wanted to rock****.

So that brings us to present day, where MCR have released one of the most triumphant songs I have ever heard (this song being "The Black Parade" and its video is just below). This band has and will affect the youth in ways that all the Radioheads in the world could only dream of. Perhaps Radiohead's music is better "art" (this pretty much cannot be refuted) and I would label Radiohead as the single greatest band of my generation, but there's something about the "moment" of My Chemical Romance that Radiohead cannot touch. This band is in the midst of presenting pop music in a theatrical sense that is hard to find elsewhere.

These same sentiments may be directed at new teen-oriented bands like Taking Back Sunday (whose last album I feel was actually quite good) to older music critic fodder like Talking Heads (whose last album I also feel was actually quite good).

Taking Back Sunday is probably never compared to Talking Heads -- and for good reason -- but the concept remains the same. In "the scene" Taking Back Sunday's debut album "Tell All Your Friends"***** is widely considered a pop-emo cornerstone. In the realm of pop music in general, Talking Heads' "Remain In Light" is widely considered to be one of the best albums of the 80s and a defining part of the New Wave. The importance of these albums in their respective scenes is gargantuan. However, after the fact, people began to politicize both acts. Suddenly Talking Heads had their entire career judged against "Remain In Light". Their final three records are considered to be well below par.

The same happened to Taking Back Sunday. Their debut was a slow but steady boil to success. I liked the album, but once it became more and more popular it began to fade away from my stereo. Now people deride the band for (a) singing about bad relationships and (b) being intensely popular.

The problem here is that, in hindsight, I most certainly enjoy the later works of both Taking Back Sunday and Talking Heads more than what they are judged on. Somewhere along the line people were missing the point. Sure, "Remain In Light" is a great album, but I find myself listening to songs like "Totally Nude", "Radio Head", "This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)", and "(Nothing But) Flowers" much more. But I would never say that I like late Talking Heads better for fear of being a scene heretic. Furthermore it's heretical to even admit enjoyment of Taking Back Sunday, but you know what -- I like them. I think they get better with each album and I enjoy it.

I really think even I'm starting to miss the point of this apology. For instance, who is it to? The bands? Myself? I guess it doesn't matter. Punk had raised me to be critical of popularity, but it is this popularity that caused punk to entirely devour itself. Punk doesn't know what to make of its own politics. And it is those politics that caused me to -- for years -- miss the point of music.

So, sorry.

*My mom still buys anywhere between 50-75% of my clothes.
** And being pretentiously self-reflexive probably isn't helping my cause.
*** The interesting thing in this case is that I rarely ever listen to Screeching Weasel or Sunny Day Real Estate, and historically I have had little vested interest in either. But at the time it was important to say I liked both bands. Even today I will still say that I enjoy both those bands, but the truth is that I never listen to them.
**** And also to roll.
***** Which, prophetically, is how they became so popular to begin with.

Film Critic Reviews for the Year in Movies

2006-12-28T14:09:00.000-05:00

Ty Burr - Boston Globe
"Burr is back to scrutinize films like never before! Forget his questionable past, just sit down, and have fun... reading his reviews!"
Grade: A-

Roger Ebert - Chicago Sun-Times
"Ebert remains the Martin Scorsese of film critics; sticks to a formula in his older age, but has hearkened back to a former glory with this year. Usually traditional, but a neccesity."
Grade: B+

E! Online Movie Reviews - www.eonline.com
"Can't make up their mind about what criterion to criticize film! Untrustworthy to anyone but cocaine addled, botox injected soccer moms! They gave Black Christmas a favorable score. Skip this!"
Grade: D-

Owen Gleiberman - Entertainment Weekly
"Where did Entertainment Weekly find this guy? And why have they stuck with him so long? Smug and haughty; a Gleiberman review is an irritating experience. On top of that, he's not right very often. Gets a D and not an F because it would be cruel to grade anyone lower than E! Online."
Grade: D

Kyle Smith - New York Post
"Hit or miss. Seems to hate comedy in any form, which is odd because the New York Post could be the funniest newspaper in America. Call it like you see it."
Grade: C

A.O. Scott - New York Times
"Old and cranky and artsy fartsy. Another hit or miss year for A.O. Scott!"
Grade: C+

Lisa Schwarzbaum - Entertainment Weekly
"The more even-headed of EW's kosher tag-team. Gleiberman is a Casino Royale dude, where as Schwarzbaum is the lady of The Departed. Ya dig?"
Grade: B+

Peter Travers - Rolling Stone
"As usual, another on-point year for Mr. Travers. You'll find yourself usually admitting that you agree with him, film snobbery aside."
Grade: A

Standing by Decisions

2006-12-21T12:52:00.000-05:00

As usual, I've been met with the annual onslaught of vocal friends, family members, and other people asking "Why? Why is [pop musician] the winner of the Lou Bega Award?"

I think that, first of all, people don't understand the Lou Bega Award the way Jon and I do. The Lou Bega award goes not to the worst music of the year (because any one of the multitude of Slipknot and Taking Back Sunday ripoffs would win each year). No, the Lou Bega award goes to the song that was intensely popular, but is derivative, boring, annoying, and uncreative.

So while I would have gladly voted for Hinder's "Lips of an Angel"(?) or some song about "Chicken Noodle Soup", had I simply known about them. The thing about the Lou Bega Award is that it needs to be soooo popular, that there is no way I could have missed it.

So the reason we didn't vote for those songs is because I never heard them other than people saying how popular they were.

The reason we didn't vote for Gwen Stefani's new song is because it didn't get popular enough (and believe me, that song is way worse than "It's Goin' Down").

So upon hearing these songs, do I believe that they are worse than Yung Joc's "It's Goin' Down"? The answer is yes. But, the Lou Bega Award goes to the artist which most desecrates the idea of popular music, not worst music of the year. So Yung Joc supporters should be thankful that we're saying he was among the most popular artists of the year. The ruling stands.

The 8th Annual Lou Bega Award!

2006-12-20T00:16:00.000-05:00

In 1999 -- the worst year in music history -- my friend Jon Katz and myself co-founded the Lou Bega Award, named after the worst recording artist of all time. This prestigious award, given annually each December, goes not necessarily to the artist with the worst song, but to the one which most desecrates the concept of popular music altogether.

Previous Recipients:
1999 - Lou Bega "Mambo #5"
2000 - Baha Men "Who Let The Dogs Out?"
2001 - Afroman "Because I Got High"
2002 - Nelly "Hot In Herre"
2003 - Sean Paul "Like Glue"
2004 - tie - every song involving Lil' Jon
2005 - Gwen Stefani "Hollaback Girl"

This year's inductee is "It's Goin' Down" by Yung Joc.
Yes that's right. After one year of bucking the trend by inducting a white woman, we are back in black!

Meager speller Yung Joc titled his debut album "New Joc City" despite hailing from College Park, Georgia. In his signature song, Joc waxes poetic on how difficult it can be when no matter where you go "it" is goin' "down". Whether Joc heads to the mall, the club, or even the trap (?) it's pretty much guaranteed it's goin' down. In the song's video, Joc gets an entire house party and the all-female staff of a clothing store to join him in his signature dance, the Joc-in. In Joc's second video for the Cribs-inspired "I Know You See It," the hook from "It's Goin' Down" plays during the intro and seamlessly transitions into another song, thus demonstrating the variation of his songs.

What happened, Yung Joc? Couldn't you follow in the successful footsteps of Young Jeezy, Young Dro, Young Gunz, even Neil Young?? Apparently not, which is why you are 2006's lucky recipient of the Lou Bega Award.

Some runners-up:

Hinder "Lips Of An Angel" - How can a band be worse than Nickelback? If they are from Oklahoma City. Hinder is synonymous with buzzphrase "Red State Rock." This band sucks worse than any rock song of the 21st century, but it's hard to win the Lou Bega Award without a hit outside of, uh, "the heartland". Hinder surely would have nabbed this year's award had they simply attempted to expand their market to either coast where I would have heard it in Philly, and Jon would have heard it in LA.

Fergie "London Bridge" - A few years ago, a relatively unpopular hip-hop group hired a former child star to sing for them and all of the sudden they became the world's most popula r hip-hop group. Then she peed her pants on stage and released a solo album and we're left with what seems to be a wannabe Beyonce covering a wannabe "Hollaback Girl". Officially replacing Kelis's "Milkshake" as the strangest euphemism for sexual acts in a modern pop song.

Thanks for another great year of terrible music, guys! Who knows what's waiting for us in 2007! Keep 'em comin'!

Yours,
Bill Benz
Jon Katz

Best Songs I Can Think of Right Now For 2006 Dude

2006-12-17T15:30:00.000-05:00

Here's the 2006 best awesome music mixtape (now annual? who knows? will I be doing this thing in a year? will I be dead????). Also see the best albums of the year post. Ask me and I'll burn you a copy. Or just do it yourself. Nevermind... fuck the mixtape, even though they're fun to make, just read about these awesome songs and locate them at your discretion.

I'll start with a song that exists only on vinyl (because vinyl is da bomb! and it sounds better! and it's totally awesome! fuck everything else!). So I'll have to wait a hundred years for some retrospective CD compilation to come out when this artist is 60 years old until I actually own this song. But we're in luck because you can stream it for free all the live long day.

The song is "Bro's" by Panda Bear (of Animal Collective fame) and it just about destroys my heart and soul every time I hear it. It's about 7-or-so minutes long of beautiful melody, rhythm, and harmony (which is what songs are!). Your mission, should you choose to accept, is to go follow this link and click on the first "listen" icon under "Track List" (hint: it's the one called "Bro's"). Also, to FatCat Records: release this on some other media, because I don't own a cylinder phonograph. Alright, brah?

Moving on to music that sounds exactly the same as above.

Andrew W.K. apparently is even crazier than we originally thought, which turned out to be quite awesome. His most recent album was released only in Japan and South Korea, featuring 22 fucking songs. So one of his new opuses "Let's Go On A Date", basically turns down the party and turns up the Meatloaf (but the party is still there, so don't fret). For the nerd in all of us, who cannot ask girls out, this song exists. Andrew W.K. basically is the most cool not cool person ever.

Here he is speaking at NYU(![?]):

Next next next!

And the hype continues to build for North Carolina's Annuals. I still haven't heard their new album, but their single "Brother" takes all the excellent aspects of music these days and mish-mashes it all together. For the person who can't get into Animal Collective but thinks Arcade Fire is played out.

Hey, who is scared shitless of Xiu Xiu?! Ooh me! Me! I am! Regardless, their most recent single, which rocks, is called "Boy Soprano" (even the vaguest of genital references can't slip past these guys, oh Xiu Xiu) and you should probably listen to it.

Add these two images together...

Think about that. Then realize that it's real. Then listen to "Province" by TV on the Radio.

The band Silversun Pickups have been gaining a lot of hype this year as well. I don't think it's totally deserved, as I only really like two of their songs: "Little Lover's So Polite" and this one (don't worry I'll get to it). I do think they have good intentions though, and they have all the right influences. So anyway, my vote for their best song (and song I really, really enjoy) goes to "Lazy Eye". Their video features my new favorite "video girl" (she's the red blur in that YouTube box below).

Shook Ones did steal their name from the Mobb Deep song. I learned that this year when I asked their bassist after their set. They stole their sound from Dan Yemin and company. I learned this when I heard them. If this sounds appealing, listen to "CARMS Race" and "SMRT" by this band and be on your merry way.

Somewhere, really out of nowhere, Appleseed Cast is all like "Um... we're going to drop a new album." And everyone is like, oh word? Because we didn't know they were still around. Then they were like "Oh, btw, it's going to feature the best song we've ever written". And everyone was all like no waaaay. Well, way, and it's called "Here We Are (Family In A Hallway)". It's worth the 99 cents on iTunes (but I guess all these are).

The Flaming Lips released another really good album this year, melting Black Sabbath together with a golden koala. Even though this song was released in 2005 I think, it's too good to exclude. It's like The Soft Bulletin: None More Soft. Here's the video:

The Blood Brothers new album is good, the only reason people hate on it is because their last album was better, and even better was the album before that. But this album is heavy with good single songy sings. One of my favorites is "We Ride Skeletal Lightening"; if you're familiar with the Blood Brothers, then it should be pretty easy to guess what phrase is said ad nauseum in this little number. Also, the change-up at the end is sweet. Perhaps the biggest weirdness to popularity ratio of any band. Below is a live version.

So, Algernon Cadwallader have not officially released an album, but if the demo of Philly's best new band is any indication, these guys rock and roll and rule. Their hit awesome track "Second Rate Machines" may remind you of Cap'n Jazz or Owen one of those Kinsella bands. It, as well as an awesome live version, are up on AC's myspace page. Peep it, dawg.

Daughters have been busy jizzing all over this great nation with boldly experimental new music, pretty much alienating the grindcore crowd and peeing on the scenester crowd. I love the song "Hyperventilationsystem", with its chant "Love is a disgusting thing, love is a disgusting thing." The following video is not from this year, not even from their new album, but it's here for the person who is like "Isn't Daughters that John Mayer song?" Watch it and you'll understand why my mom doesn't get some of my musical interests.

I liked the new Deftones album, but that's because I actually like the Deftones. It's not a guilty pleasure. But since every single person I talk to thinks I'm a giant dumbass for liking this band, I won't tell you that I really liked the song "Riviere". Fuck you, all of you.

Next up is Destroyer, perhaps the most inappropriately named band ever. C'mon, dude, let some tech-metal band have it! Click it and listen to "European Oils", it's Destroyer's best song yet.

Girl Talk. I was about to post a track. But no, the whole damn album is a track. So listen to the whole damn album.

Philly's own Dr. Dog released a wonderbar EP this year (but don't take it from me, just see what Beck has to say!). The last track, "Livin' a Dream", is another one of those soul crushing beautiful mega-songs, that you should nab off of iTunes right now if you do nothing else.

Brit-pop-punk never sounded anywhere near as good as when The Futureheads are doing it. I listened to "Skip to the End" more than other dudes this summer. Take a gander at this video below from the Pitchfork Music Fest, let the harmonies hit your ears, and then realize that this is what they sound like live! Maybe it's just a good mix, but... damn!

Like I said, Clipse are not being overhyped. Check out "Wamp Wamp (What It Do)" below, then tell me that you don't wanna wet your nose up... bitch.

Gnarles Barkley were the hipster approved uberpop of the year, with their runaway single "Crazy" -- which was awesome, admit it. My favorite track off the album was "Transformer" though. Below is a fan video.

So we can all agree that Islands aren't as good as the Unicorns, but it's great that they went in an entirely new direction. Ditch the synth pop and get yo' Paul Simon on! "Jogging Gorgeous Summer" is exactly what the title says it is.

The Jonbenet may or may not have felt awkward this summer when that creepy dude pretended to be the real child rapist murderer. Their single "Eating Lightning Part I" suuuure is good though. Later this year O.J. would accidentally admit that he killed his wife.

If someone last year came up to me and said "Hey, Bill... yo, this is crazy. First of all, I'm from the future. Okay, so follow along. Lifetime, you know them right?"
"Yeah, of course. They destroyed every other punk band I could ever hope to listen to. How could I forget?"
"Okay, well, listen. See this LP?"
"Yeah."
"Alright, on it... are two brand new Lifetime songs."
"What?!"
"Just listen. Okay? Here take it. (Vanish into the future)"
"But, I don't have a record player."

So Lifetime released two new songs this year. They're a lot cleaner, a touch poppier. But fuck, man, it's LIFETIME. I like "All Night Long" better, but just listen to both while your at it. This is the band responsible for spawning every Taking Back Sunday that you probably hate.

Get your hands on a copy of Lupe Fiasco's "Real ft. Sarah Green". Below is the shittiest possible video for you to get an idea of how good this song is.

M.I.A. - "Bucky Done Gun". Watch the video, then have a sexy party. Best dance song of the year.

One of the least Google-able bands, Man Man, released an album beloved by all (well I liked it, but I didn't really listen to it all that much). However, imagine Hulk Hogan singing a sea shanty that transitions into a 50s doo-wop, and that's really only half the picture of the song "Ice Dogs". Below is the song, but something tells me this isn't the official video. Call it a hunch.

Mew have a myriad of songs that I wholeheartedly enjoy, so I'll just go with the first of their many insanely epic songs, "Chinaberry Tree". I think this is brain-meltingly beautiful, in a nerdy sci-fi sort of way. Dammit, listen to him: "But I never learned how not to be / As my first love said to me / “I don’t care. I’m not there” / So that I could not sleep / My whole being was falling apart / So that I soon cried out / “Dear friends, hold me!”"

"Montanita", the first track from Ratatat's new album, is a collage of warm layers that just doesn't quit! Call your doctor today and say "Hey gimme that, doc!"

Spencer Krug is in about 20 million bands. I don't know how it's possible, but I checked the numbers and -- damn -- it's 20 million. Sunset Rubdown proved to be so much more than just a Wolf Parade side project, and "Stadiums and Shrines II" perfectly exemplifies this. I know I've used the term "soul-crushing" a lot. But sometimes you need your soul crushed. And sometimes I need a new adjective.

And finally, a fictional conversation between me and my dad:

"Dad, I really want a jangly, uptempo indie rock tune. Can you provide?"
"Well, I did have a guitar in the 60s. Ha, one of those things cost only $50. And it was a decent one too!"
"...Neat. Well, I want something that shows no hint of you being in your 50s."
"I could find something... I guess. What's popular? Is it that grunge music?"
"Dad, Thurston Moore is only like 10 years younger than you and his band has released one of the best CDs of their career."
"Thirsty who?"
"Ugh! You'll never understand."
"Get a haircut!"
"Don't cut yours!"

Sonic Youth - Incinerate

Oh yeah, and "White and Nerdy" by Weird Al

Best Music of 2006

2006-12-14T19:19:00.000-05:00

Update: Yo yo yo, dude. Also check out this list of best songs... dude. Yeah dude. Nice.

It's the time of year for my (apparently now annual) best music I heard this year list. It's being made to a.) pander to my own ego and b.) maybe reccomend some stuff you'd wanna hear. Since you're reading this I already assume you have great taste in art and the like. Okay, so the year isn't over yet, but I'll post more later if the greatest album of the millenium is released in the next two weeks (if the new Modest Mouse album is as good as I hope it is, then I'll put it on next year's list). Last year I made the mistake of quantifying the list, which kind of was stupid and there's no reason to place certain albums above others, especially when they are usually quite different. So this year I'm doing it in alphabetical order. It's just better this way.

Clipse - Hell Hath No Fury

I'm usually skeptical of shit that gets overhyped like madness. Remember when everyone was creaming over Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah? And they had like 2 or 3 good songs. The same has been happening to Clipse for the past 6 months. Everyone could not stop talking up this album. Also, I was never really struck by any singles that the Neptunes produced, although I always respected what they had done. Furthermore, I've rarely considered myself a fan of anything labeled "minimalist", usually I'm all about the bombast. However, it all comes together so perfectly on "Hell Hath No Fury" that shorty be all like daaay-uuum dis ish be hotttt! The beats are just about the most evil things I've ever heard (the sci-fi mindfuck of "Mr. Me Too", the Legend of Zelda temple drone of "Keys Open Doors", hell they fucking make steel drums scary under Slim Thug's bassy growl in "Wamp Wamp"). The flow is on spot, and even though every single song is about dealing drugs, I was still entertained by the lyrics ("Pyrex Turs turned into Covalli furs / The full length cat, when I wave, the kitty purs / All my niggas caped up, selling grey and beige dust / Had that money right or end up in the trunk taped up / We don't chase a duck, we only raise the bucks / Peel money rolls until our thumbs get the papercuts". Woof). Something tells me that the sum of this group's parts are greater than the whole, but let's just be thankful that some inadvertant cosmic magic that they all came together like this.

Daughters - Hell Songs

"I've been screaming in bands for 11 or 12 years, and it's fucking tiresome and it's starting to hurt my throat. And it's uncomfortable and it's a waste of anything that I've written where I really feel I wrote something good."
-Alexis Marshall, Daughters

Despite simmering reviews, this is the best album that Daughters have ever released. Their take on angular grindcore with Canada was admirable and largely enjoyable, but hurt by the fact that most of the songs sounded exactly the same. The fact that Marshall now talks, whispers, and growls instead of a piercing demonic shriek makes the music around him even more effective. There's a clear mood that Daughters have always gone for -- a creepy, crushing, overwhelming feeling -- which is at its most fully realized in this album. I commend them for the little experimental flourishes that separate them from their peers, such as the inclusion of strings and horns and general ambiance. It's still evil, so don't let granny hear.

Girl Talk - Night Ripper

This album out-Hollertronixes Hollertronix themselves. It's easily the best mash-up album I've ever heard. The reason it's so good is its wild ambition; there are literally hundreds of samples used on these 16 tracks. Part of the fun is remembering where all the various samples even came from in the first place. On top of that it's an incredibly fun listen. Check out 2 Live Crew gang chant "Heyyyyy, we want some puss-ay!" over Paul McCartney's balmy "I looooove yoooouuu" on the last track. Other fun moments are Three 6 Mafia over Smashing Pumpkins in "Overtime" and Gwen Stefani over The Rentals in "Hand Clap". If your party is starting to suck, just throw this on, it might save your reputation.

The Hold Steady - Boys and Girls in America

There's something that I find undeniably enjoyable when a band can write music entirely about having a good time. The beauty of this album is not just the awesomely enjoyable backing music, but the lyrics poetically and insightfully portray the ecstacy and the agony of a highly intoxicated night on the town. The Hold Steady don't take themselves seriously, which is one of the most appealing things about them. There are fun lyrics like "She was a really good kisser and she wasn't all that strict of a Christian" and "There were clicks and hisses / and complicated kisses / Gideon's got a pipe made from a pringles can". But they can easily switch to, what I consider, entirely beautiful poetry: "She looked just like a baby bird, all new and wet and trying to light a Parliament / he quoted her some poetry, he's Tennyson in denim and sheepskin / he looked a lot like Izzy Stradlin / they started kissing when the nurses took off their IV's / it was kinda sexy, but it was kinda creepy / their mouths were fizzy with the cherry cola, they had the privacy of bedsheets / and all the other kids were mostly in comas".

Lupe Fiasco - Food & Liquor

Unlike the other hip hop album on this list, Food & Liquor is a grandiose feel-good rocker. Lupe's flow is out of control here. I've been hoping to hear more from this rising star ever since his show-stealing cameo on Kanye's "Touch The Sky", and he certainly delivered. This album is actually very much like a miniature "Late Registration", all the same elements are in play here. Songs like "I Gotcha" and "Just Might Be OK" feature excellent wordplay and really great beats curtousy of 1st and 15th production. His lyrics are also entirely refreshing in a genre that is known for glorifying drug-dealers, mysogynists, and murderers; in "Daydreamin'" he offers a fairly scathing review of popular hip hop: "Now come on everybody let’s make cocaine and cool / We need a few more half naked women up in the pool / And hold this mack ten that’s all covered in jewels / And can you please put your titties closer to the 22’s / And where’s the champagne, we need champagne / Now look as hard as you can with this blunt in your hand / And now hold up your chain / Slow motion through the flames / Now queue the smoke machines and the simulator rain / But not too loud cuz the baby’s sleepin". Other topics include absent fathers, zombies, and taking baths... remember, Lupe's quite fresh: "Fragrantly fragrant and they cant escape me / My perfume pursued them everywhere that they went / You don't want a loan leave my cologne alone / It's a little to strong for you to be putting on".

Mew - And The Glass Handed Kites

Where do I start with this band? What exactly do I like so much about them? I first heard "The Zookeeper's Boy" and loved it; it felt like M83 meets Genesis. It's very poppy, but maintains all the usual suspects in the making of a Rush or Yes album (i.e. the bubbling angelic synth drone of the second half of "Chinaberry Tree", the fact that there's an extra track with Japanese lyrics, the fact that they decided to name one of their songs "Apocalypso"[!]). The awesomeness of this record is how incredibly epic it is. I would love to see some sort of "Lord of the Rings" meets "The Wall" concept film with this music in the background. The power of this album actually occurred to me when I was on a cruise this summer staring out at the endless Atlantic with this on my iPod. The sky was an ominous gray, with fits of golden sunlight filtering through. This is the image you have to think of when listening to Mew: transplant yourself into the most magestic, natural scenery and listen.

All I know is that, if heaven exists and I ever get there, I want to hear the opening 20 seconds of "An Envoy To the Open Fields" upon my arrival.

Shook Ones - Facetious Folly Feat

It was a punk rock summer for me, as I spent most of it listening to Lifetime, Kid Dynamite, American Nightmare/Give Up The Ghost and (early) Against Me!. On top of that I would often listen to Shook Ones' first album, Sixteen (featuring such gems as "Bellingham Lads Club", "Please Read", and "Jersey Beach Pail"). These guys are heavily following in the footsteps of the cult icon Dan Yemin and his various musical outings. And they carry the torch that was long ago dropped by Philly's own Kid Dynamite. However, this band is not merely derivative of KD or Lifetime; they expand upon the sound crafted in the mid 90s and early 00s. I've listened to this album just about every day since it was released two months ago. Every song is pretty much great, definetly topping their previous efforts. "CARMS Race" has already reached the most-played song on my iTunes, with most of the other songs not far behind. On top of that I managed to see them twice within the last month, and one time it was an hour away. I've reached a point where I need to hear more from this band... so dudes, keep writing.

TV On The Radio - Return To Cookie Mountain

TV on the Radio continue to prove why they are one of the coolest bands around with Return to Cookie Mountain. The sound is dense and hazy, with wonderful vocal melodies and harmonies accompanying it. In many ways I'm reminded of the Beach Boys, expertly combining pop with art.

Honorable Mentions (I listened to these... just not as much):
Abandoned Pools - Armed to the Teeth
Appleseed Cast - Peregrine
Be Your Own Pet - s/t
Blood Brothers - Young Machetes
Converge - No Heroes
Deftones - Saturday Night Wrist (probably the most consistent album they've ever released)
Dr. Dog - Takers & Leavers EP (you must hear "Livin' a Dream")
Flaming Lips - At War With The Mystics
Gnarles Barkley - St. Elsewhere ("Crazy" is really good, but you have to hear "Transformer")
Islands - Return to the Sea
The Jonbenet - The Plot Thickens
Justin Timberlake - Futuresex / Lovesounds (don't hate)
Ratatat - Classics
Thom Yorke - The Eraser

Guesting at MCV

2006-12-08T23:33:00.000-05:00

Once again Jon Katz is adrift in the vast splendor of USA! USA! USA! and once again I will be guest blogging over at Marmaduke Can Vote. I promise I'll be reeeeeeaaaallll funny! I really mean it!

They Are Not In Heaven Because They Fuck The Wives of Ely

2006-11-29T16:20:00.000-05:00

Many of the moments that give me the chills in any form of story are when a character (usually an underdog) approaches another character (usually a huge motherfucker) and tells them off. But not just tells them off... tells them of their obvious plight -- something so clear throughout the tale -- and spices it up with a curse word.

I was thinking about this as I watched the film 8 Mile for the fifth time yesterday. This guy gets screwed and screwed and screwed and finally in the climactic rap battle he does not choke, but tells off the primary antagonist. The line that specifically gives me the chills is when Eminem goes up to the dude and says "Don't ever try to judge me dude, you don't know what the fuck I've been through".

Whew. First off, great use of the word "fuck". The timing, the emphasis; it all comes together quite beautifully. The word "fuck" is able to express a certain degree of pain and anguish.

No one is quite certain what the true origins of the word "fuck" are, but many believe they arise from the German "ficken", meaning "to strike". Regardless, the contemporary meaning of the word can be anything, and it truely has become one of the most versatile in the English language.

I haven't listened to So-Cal punk band The Ataris for quite some time, but in high school they had one song that I found extremely affecting, if only for the inclusion of the word "fuck". The song was called "Angry Nerd Rock". It began with a dark, bubbling bass line building tension as the singer told a tale of social isolation. He was "stuck inside of someone else's dream", as if his life had turned out perfect by any casual observation -- he's in a successful rock group, he's enjoying himself with his friends. But there's the anonymous authority figure, or perhaps a friend just trying to help him get out of his funk. He complains that everything is the same as it's always been, just "different faces, different names". The cliche of the line isn't as important as the fact that it feels real, it feels like he's honestly needs to get out of this life that he leads.

It finally boils down to the intense climax of the song, all instruments finally blazing forward dull-throttle when he shouts "I don't have to listen to you, so don't you fucking tell me what to do". Is this the angsty statement of a teen yelling at his dad for not giving him the car keys. The fact that this guy is in his twenties and has a kid leads me to think this is more than that. But what is particularly interesting is his use of the word "fuck". It conveys the anger in ways that simply shouting could not. "Don't you fucking tell me what to do".

Similarly, but less provacative, is the song by beloved 90s pop-rock group Third Eye Blind entitled "Graduate". This song uses swearing and the zeitgeist of college living to convey a frustration that is surely specific, but universal to anyone who hears it. This time the frustration is not only with the establishment, but with the self. The vocalist ponders "Can I get my punk ass off the street?", hoping to find some motivation to remove himself from his abstract predicament. In a sort of third person soliloquy, the singer confronts his down-and-out self with a more motivational, optimistic self. He muses, "Talking to somebody like you, do you live the days you go through?", which I find to be one of the more profound lyrics in the band's discography [and yes, I do believe that the band Third Eye Blind is not taken as seriously because of their pop culture status, but they really do cover topics that other bands of their stature might steer away from. I mean one of their singles is about being jaded with a life of sex, drugs, and rock n roll and yet another single is about choosing whether or not to have an abortion... and these are the singles].

The motivation for the song's protagonist comes in the form of fighting the system, not through teenage snottiness, but by fulfilling your potential and accomplishing your goals in the face of the very people who thought you'd never make it. But cursing is still an effective way to convey this frustration when he confonts the antagonizing authority figure with "To the bastard talking down to me, your whipping boy calamity, cross your fingers I'm going to knock it all down".

The curse doesn't seem forced. It isn't a casual use of the word "bastard", nor is it a rebellious childish use of the word; this is a guy who really thinks that this other guy is pretty much a huge bastard. Some of the worst insults are not when someone calls you something totally outrageous and provactive or insults your mother or something of that matter. No, the worst insults are when someone calls you something totally minor, but means it. If someone thought I was truely a bastard, it would be more affecting than someone who called me a fucking dumbshit cunt head. There's a level of calmness and rationality in the small curses.

And yes, all of these described moments still have the power to give me chills. Maybe I like cursing. Or maybe I like underdogs. But when the two come together in a verbal attack on the proverbial dickheads of the world, I really dig it.

Post-script:

Earlier I implied that the song "Graduate" deals with college living. The more I think about it, the more I think that it uses the literal idea of graduation as a metaphor for entering a next stage of life, rather than the actual act of graduating from school. This also makes sense because frontman Stephen Jenkins was in his early thirties when this song came out.

Chucks

2006-11-28T19:56:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about historical significance versus pop-cultural significance. Given the choice of a vibrant life of artistic success, but to be critically considered pop-trash or have an entirely unsuccessful artistic life, only to be regarded as intensely brilliant post-mortem ... which would you choose?

Answer now.

I would choose the first option. If you chose the second, you're probably some sort of masochist or entirely in love with yourself. Sometimes people can have their cake and eat it too in this scenario -- Andy Warhol, The Beatles, the dude that wrote Beowulf -- but more often than not it's one or the other.

I've been thinking about this subject for a couple days now, because I find myself reading two books by relatively famous Chucks; Palahniuk and Klosterman. The books in question are Survivor and Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. It is my belief that these two authors contribute nothing to the lexicon of history, but I also feel that both of them secretly (or perhaps openly) know this. What is it to become a "great" writer; do you have to create something that you just feel like talking about (Klosterman) or create a noir-ish social commentary (Palahniuk)?

John Fante was an Italian depression-era author from Colorado who saw limited success in his early life. This is most likely because he wrote seven books about being an Italian depression-era author from Colorado. He went to L.A. and began writing screenplays that eventually were made into movies. Still no one cared. Then sometime later, after his death in the 80s, someone was like "Ohhh, I get it... he's an Italian depression-era author from Colorado. This is deep". Ask The Dust, currently Fante's most popular work, finally made it to the New York Times bestseller list six decades after its publication (and even that required heavy pushing from Charles Bukowski... and he was drunk the whole time anyway). The problem about this man is that I feel he was endlessly self-involved and basically wrote journal entries over the course of his bazillion books uncleverly disguised as some other character (let it be known that I have not read one word of John Fante).

"But wouldn't people that want instant fame and gratification be in love with themselves too?"

Yes, this is true as well. I'm sure that pop-band-of-the-moment Fall Out Boy's Pete Wentz is immensley obsessed with himself. But, I think it's a different kind of in love with yourself. People that want to be immortalized after their death are "visions-of-grandeur-in-love-with-themselves". These people want to be like Jesus... or David Bowie. People that opt for the first choice are "I-just-want-to-be-popular-in-love-with-themselves". Who are we as a people, but insecure. It's only a normal hope that people in some capacity can recognize you as cool. The people that obsess over what "the critics" say want to make art. Everyone else kinda just wants to have fun with it.

So this brings me back to my two Chucks, whose books I am finding immense enjoyment in (and they're critically appraised!). Maybe it's a Freudian pleasure complex*, but I want to read pop-novels of now, just because I'm entertained and can relate to them. To say you would rather have your work loved later is to say, "I don't want to be pop now, but I would like to become pop later". It's the same thing, the same sort of adulation, but now you're deep, even if you were just writing about what your neighbor said to you or something.

My Chucks want to entertain first, and be profound second if it happens to occur at all. C.P. wants to write dark social commentary for your enjoyment. C.K. wants to write highly-self aware pop-culture-isms for your enjoyment. And in creating enjoyment for others, both of these authors certainly must enjoy what they do.

I'm currently working on a screenplay for my screenwriting class. At the encouragement of my teacher, I have created a dream-like, intensely personal, character piece. And I fucking hate it! I never write stuff like this and I don't care about anything happening in it, even when my class nods in approval of its "deep" message. Listen, I would rather be in Queen than in than in Radiohead. Because it's fun. It's pop music. Still, it's profoundly connective. Freddie Mercury could sing on the most cliched or boring subject matter of all time (girls, having fun, riding a bike) and it would still be awesome because it's fun. Sure, Radiohead are great artists and an incredible band. Maybe I just have a problem being totally sincere about things I care about. Or perhaps I just don't care about things that Thom Yorke would care about. I care more about having a good ol' time than global warming**. Plus it's Queen, man... fucking Queen!

*It is undoubtedly not a Freudian pleasure complex
** Get the Hold Steady's new album.

This Just In!

2006-11-26T21:20:00.000-05:00

Since I posted about videos I used to make in high school not moments ago, it might be interesting to see videos I've been a part of in college.

Click da link to see da video made by Joey Stakun, Tommy Rice, and myself.

http://blip.tv/file/106806/

Also read the post just below this one for more vidzzzz.

The BBS

2006-11-26T20:42:00.000-05:00

As part of our totally self-indulgent, it's-only-funny-if-you-know-them, retrospective series "Revisionist History", my collaborator Jon "Kitty" Katz has just updated the Bill Benz Show YouTube site.

A little background: The Bill Benz Show was a video project founded by Jon Katz, Mike Chen, and myself. We started in 2001 and the show was dead a mere two years later (like other creative projects I have taken part in). It was before viral videos or non-music file sharing really took off, and obviously before YouTube and flash streaming video.

The first part of our retrospective series (found here) gave people a brief glimpse into the conception of the series and some of the main ideas behind it. The second part will be out in a couple weeks, featuring interviews with regular cast and crew members. The most curious thing about the Bill Benz Show is that -- in retrospect -- it seems like a great warm up to a truely funny and entertaining show that had potential, but we just stopped. As soon as we started writing sketches and skits and actual scripts, the show was finished.

Anyway, before having this post become any more convoluted, the following are five original Bill Benz Show segments with commentary below each by Jon himself. Enjoy!

"Ho Hunting": Perhaps the most classic Bill Benz Show segment, this video features a young Jon "Kitty" Katz in desperate pursuit of some girls.

Interesting fact: The Santa Claus appearing in this video recently met George W. Bush at the White House for a Christmas photo op.

"Experimental German Film": Brendan Barrett and Peter Shadzik are rival gang members in this project created for someone's German class.

"Ninjas Med Stokker": Jon Battista and Erick Geiger engage in an epic ninja battle. Subtitled in Norwegian.

LaSalle College Highschool's finest student, Paul "Fresh" Gormisky, tries to pawn his Religion class's textbook Bible for a low, low price. Operators are standing by...

Edit: "Break Stuff" was removed to avoid potential employers seeing certain parties doing certain things.

Photo Adventure 3

2006-11-21T21:18:00.000-05:00

New photo adventure is up on Joe's page.

Revisionist History part 1

2006-11-19T19:33:00.000-05:00

Watch the video above. Also play this game all the time.

Dolphin Olympics... my high score is 1 million 200 thousand something. Beat that!

The 151st Pokemon

2006-11-17T00:05:00.000-05:00

So this will be the fourth blog post I've made in 4 consecutive days. Wowie. Or three. I forget.

So I've been on a kick of this band Mew since I first got their album, "And The Glass Handed Kites" in August. Since then, instead of becoming disinterested with it, their music has grown on me greatly. They're Dutch or Danish or Donuts or something like that. Their music is possibly the nerdiest shit I've heard in a long time, but in a totally good way; because they're nerds who are being heartfelt about their nerddome. By the way, this is their fourth album, which means I have some backtracking to do.

It's hard to call it anything but poppy prog-rock, and it should have been the score to the Lord of the Rings trilogy. This is the best album I've heard this year, but I'll talk more about that in my grand, end-of-the-year, highly acclaimed music wrap up (no one cares about it, it's totally mastubatory). Watch deez vidz:

Above is Mew's most recent video. It's all sexy and shit.

I don't know how they get away with this shit. I mean, the audacity! They're all wearing scarfs with an elaborate light display as wind blows through their perfect Danish hair. Oh shit, fake snow!

This is the first song I heard from them (well not specifically, this is the single version, I like the album version better). A lot of times I just want music videos to be beautiful shots of the band rocking out. This is that.

Why Global Warming Is Awesome

2006-11-16T13:12:00.000-05:00

Global warming fucking rocks. As I sit in the brisk fall air, I realize that it's not brisk at all, it's fucking nice out! The world needs to stop complaining about global warming, because it's only benefitting us. "Us" being, everyone that lives in a nice temperate climate zone, like Pennsylvania. It's November and it's like 65 degrees out! Show me the downside!

"But Bill, I'm not sure you've got it right... It's going to melt the ice caps, wah wah wah, makes the world colder in the end... cry cry cry... poisons the air... bloo bloo blah."

Listen, crybaby, you can whine all you want about the inevitable, or we can really embrace this awesome thing we call global warming. Notice it's not called global destroyening. It's just global warming. Why try to fight what could be the coolest thing to happen to the earth in about thousands of years?

"But Bill, all of our culture and beautiful cities and lovely writings and educations will be lost forever if they're all submerged in water! Wah wah wah wah wah! We'll all be miserable."

First of all, you're already miserable, so submerging the earth in a couple hundred trillion gallons of water isn't going to change that. Just accept that we'll all be living on catamarans, drinking our purified piss out of a Brita filter and hanging out on giant floating towns, selling dry dirt to the highest bidder. It will be something like this:

If you're still not convinced, I hope you drown in your own whiny-baby tears before the Katrina times 100-like squalls do the same. Meanwhile, I'll be busy constructing a glorious vessel and stocking up on non-perishable food items. I guess I'll see you true believers in the decades following the apocalypse of the land dwellers. Have your dramamine ready.

Postscript:

I just realized that this global warming thing isn't happening as fast as I'd like. Still, I can't wait to bring as many children into this world to experience the adventures that I would only be able to dream about. You're so lucky future-children.

To The DP of Battlefield Earth

2006-11-15T12:46:00.000-05:00

Many a blogger has tackled the following: Scientology, L. Ron Hubbard, Celebrities and Scientology, Dianetics, Battlefield Earth, Marmaduke, etc. They're all easy targets and I won't really get into the specifics. Scientology is a cult, duh, we all know. Tom Cruise is batshit insane, duh, we all know (but he's always been). L. Ron Hubbard was a wacko pedophile, etc., we all know.

This one goes specifically to the director of photography for the 2000 film "Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000" starring John Travolta and Barry Pepper and I think Forrest Whitaker. The film is based on L. Ron Hubbard's shittingly long book of the same name. If you have ever wanted to read it, you're a dork.

The DP -- or cinematographer -- of "Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000" is a gent named Giles Nuttgens. His film credits include "Swimfan" and "Keep The Aspidistra Flying" (?) among other things. Giles, I have a few bones to pick with some of your shot compositions... well, most of your shot compositions in the film "Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000" (quite a coincidence that the events in the film happened at exactly the turn of the millenium).

Now let's forget for a moment that the writing wasn't awful, the acting not emotionless, and that there was actually some direction to the film. There's something about your shot choices that still would have been... how shall I put this, um... stupid.

Well that's a decent shot. The ground must've been slightly uneven so there's a slight tilt in the frame... nothing too worrisome. Barry Pepper has gorgeous hair, by the way.

Ah, interesting shot. The rule of thirds is in effect here, it works. Looks like the right tripod leg was a little bit shorter than the rest. No worries, no one will notice, it's only a slightly canted angle.

Alright Giles, it seems that you have now made the right tripod leg significantly longer than the other two. It appears that the camera was lopsided when this was shot. This looks like an important shot too. Oh well.

Oh, Jesus. Why is the angle canted so far? Are these a species that are able to stand straight up on a 30 degree plane? Maybe so. All these angles are really making me nauseous.

What the fuck? Did the cameraman fall over?

Almost every shot in the film "Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000" is tilted in some degree -- ranging from "slightly tilted" to "oh my, that is quite tilted". Surely this is just a stylistic choice showing the dizzying paradoxes that occur in the film "Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000" and not how you actually shoot every film. Right? Well I don't really want to watch "Swimfan" or "The Deep End" or really anything else listed on IMDB, so I'll probably never know.

Nitpicking? Or just general disdain towards the film "Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000"? I don't know. Probably the former.

No wait, "Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000" totally fucking sucked. Not just because every single shot was canted, not because I didn't really understand what the hell was going on, not because it was boring, not just because the alien makeup was just claws and dreadlocks, nor just because the script is bad and I'm assuming the one million paged novel is as well. No, it was all of these things. This movie was torture. I didn't watch the whole thing to the end. And if there's any "Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000" purist out there who is now saying "Well that's why he didn't like it, he didn't watch the whole thing", I don't care. It sucked, it sucks, it will suck.

It sucks so bad that I have turned into one of those internet nerds who complains about something that I have no emotional investment in, like the guys at Something Awful or that Maddox guy. I've turned into a complainy weiner baby blah bloo. All because of "Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000". Why complain about something that everyone knows is bad? Why act like I'm a badass or something for doing it? I'm reduced to nothing. Thanks to "Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000".

Postscript:

So I was leafing through the library's copy of L. Ron Hubbard's "Battlefield Earth" and came across this interesting passage on page 3,466:

"...but how, the flowing-haired man, wondered. How could there ever have been a world that existed on a flat zero degree plane. Surely he had never seen it (it was and is, afterall, the fucking year 3000). 'Well' answered the leader of the Dredloxinz (reading the human's thoughts), 'Sometime in the year 2550, we fucking rammed our ship really hard into the earth. it tilted the earth to a 45 degree angle of what it used to be. That's why you humans got all pissed and shot your puny missiles at us. That's why we killed most of you. That's why we are here on this battlefield, which is on earth. It's sort of a... what do you call it... well I guess it's a battlefield earth."

My Life Is a Meaningless Series of Events That Always Lead Me To Play Guitar Hero at Tom Rice's Apartment

2006-11-14T19:01:00.000-05:00

Haikus:

Green, Red, Green, Green, Red
Yellow, Green is Black Sabbath
in Guitar Hero

I tilt my guitar
But star power won't start
Totally sucks, man

Tonight I shall play
Guitar Hero yet again
I can't stop, I won't

:Haikus

Van Mineral

2006-11-11T18:25:00.000-05:00

A Poem For Film Majors and People That Hate The Rain

2006-11-08T13:00:00.000-05:00

I toiled through the night, film project of course
But Final Cut Pro was lacking remorse
as my audio tracks were only a faint hiss
my room-tone and ADR totally amiss
I'll finish by one, I did confidently chime
Matching film to sound would take "no time"

Around three thirty, I saw what I was stuck with
and glared at the Mac and muttered, "Man, fuck this"
And went to export
but the port did retort
that it had no sound with which to consort

And to this I replied, "No, it's all there, all nice."
but the computer said "Check your output device"
I tried again, hoping to see through the glitch
But the computer, as always, was being a bitch

I know it's not me, so the computer's a liar
Oh wait, it is me, let me check firewire
Yeah shit, export thru firewire, I'm a dumbass
Hopefully I'll get enough sleep now for my film class

Oh, a light rain
No cause to complain
I'll call my girlfriend for a space on her floor
'Cause my home's too far and class is next door

It's fucking pouring
I wish I was snoring
but lemme get soaked on this shitty Wednesday morning

That Will Suck

2006-11-03T15:34:00.000-05:00

It's going to suck in 2-4 weeks when every person in the world is quoting the new film, Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan. I've made a blog about this very phenomenon about a year ago, involving the film Napoleon Dynamite. Arguably the worst part of all of this is not hearing humorless people recycle the jokes so they'll seem funny, but hearing every self righteous comedy purist I know complain about that very thing. We get it, it's not funny, but let them be.

Time will tell. I'm going to see the movie tonight, myself. It's going to be hilarious.

Photo Adventure 2

2006-11-02T18:51:00.000-05:00

Hey kids, check out the newest funnies in Photo Adventure World!

Current State of Music

2006-10-31T12:58:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling like sharing with you all. With the current state of popular musics, I find it harder and harder to be really affected by anything that I can buy in a store. Much more interesting music is being made by local and unsigned artists than most other folks. So I want to rep some unsigned/unknown bands that you may care about or not care about. Feel free to post any others in the comments section that need recognitions.

Hey Hey - www.myspace.com/heyheyphilly
A very zany musical concotion of jammy synthy weirdo instrumentals. It's kinda like funk stuff but then it's also like metal, but then again it could just be punk. I'm not too certain to tell you the truth. Great dudes, great tunes, great live.

We Are The Seahorses - www.myspace.com/wearetheseahorses
Possibly the scariest band in America. Intensely catchy and fun to listen to. They either write epic synth pop with mega hooks or evil dance shits with mega hooks. Kinda like G.G. Allen except not so mean. Kinda like The Unicorns, except naked.

The Neighborhood Choir - www.myspace.com/theneighborhoodchoir
My pals Bennet, Dan, Paul, and Parker play these songs, written mainly by Ben (I could be wrong, I don't know). Very mellow space-folk. The thing is, it's pretty much better than anything you can find raved about on hipster reviews sites. If something cool doesn't happen to this group then I'm not quite sure what to say.

Algernon Cadwallader - www.myspace.com/algernoncadwallader
Remember Braid? Remember Cap'n Jazz? Remember Owen or perhaps The Promise Ring? These guys bring that ish back, and in such a fucking good way. All those jingly jangly guitar plucks rolling over each other. I'm very psyched to see what these guys pull out next.

On Display - www.myspace.com/ondisplayband
Ska is dead. Duh. That's why someone had to exhume and ressurect its rotting corpse. Extremely catchy and fun and suuuuuper gay. Ignore all the ties that would lead me to hype this band, they are actually good... bitch.

Strike.Fire.Fall - www.myspace.com/strikefirefall
Okay, so these guys are actually signed to Takeover Records, but more recognition (from this massively popular blog) won't be so bad. I used to be in Boy Scouts with their singer Sean (who is an Eagle Scout, very nerdy) who was in my favorite local band of all time, Parkview. When he went to college he started this pop rock group and it sounds nice. And they're signed, so life is sweet.

The Love Triangle - www.myspace.com/handicapclickclacks
This is the band of my former housemate, Dylan and his two other buds. Again, I'm not hyping these guys because of the connection, they are actually really, really good (I can't help that I'm surrounded by very talented folks). Anyway, don't take my word for it, just see what Devendra Banhart has to say!

Ponytail - www.myspace.com/jreamteam
Weirdos. Coolies. Niiiiice. Crazy freak out jams. And I mean JAMMMMZ.

And so, learn about and support these artists. The End!

Shoes

2006-10-30T22:13:00.000-05:00

Mambo

2006-10-27T15:55:00.000-05:00

Photo Adventure

2006-10-24T18:10:00.000-05:00

Joey added a new theme to his blog. Check it out!

Wruh-wruh-wruh-ch-ch-check-it-wruh-wree-wruh-wruh-ch-ch-REEEE-MIX!

Various Videotape Recordings For An Assasin

2006-10-23T22:22:00.000-05:00

TO: XXXX XXXXX XXXX
FROM: XX XXXXXX
DATE: XX/XX/91

Hello [omitted]. By now you should have recieved half of your payment. You will recieve the other half upon completion. You must get to the General Mills Apple Orchard outside Seattle, WA. This is where your targets reside. They are known colloquially as "Apple" -- a portly, oafish man, costumed in green -- and "Cinna-Man" -- a gawkish and lanky man, costumed in pumpkin orange. Unfortunately they have deleted all archived photographs of themselves... you'll know when you see them.

Take them out as swiftly as possible. [omitted] Keep it clean. I'm hoping this will blow over.

Best of luck.

-[omitted]

TO: XXXX XXXXX XXXX
FROM: XX XXXXXX
DATE: XX/XX/92

It's been long since our last meeting, and I thank you for your excellent work. No one even noticed that Apple and Cinna-Man were missing. I've erased as much of their past as possible.

I now have a size-able hit lined up for you. This will pay more, however the profile is higher. Take a look at the following image.

From left to right their names are Quienno, Wendell, and Bob. The Columbians want them dead for fucking them over in '82 and going public with their delicious cereal, containing traces of pure cocaine. The cocaine is "disguised" as cinnamon swirls... the taste you can see, rather. In this picture they are shovelling down keys of blow, freshly stolen from a raided go-fast boat.

This is also an inside job. Wendell, the oldest one in the middle, has a struck a deal with the furious Columbians, hoping to save his own neck. He'll give them a cut of the cereal sales, if they can "off" the other two. This way everyone takes in a greater profit.

I've included a round trip plane ticket to Florence, Italy, where they currently are vacationing. Make sure Quienno and Bob do not return.

[omitted]

Good luck.

TO: XXXX XXXXX XXXX
FROM: XX XXXXXX
DATE: XX/XX/97

Good to be working with you again, [omitted]. Hopefully your extended vacation has been going well. I heard Wendell has been lining your pockets these past few years. Very nice. This next job comes from a secretive agent known only as "Chip". He has been in the organized crime business for quite some time and he wants out. In order to do so, he must get rid of the "higher-ups". Observe this image:

"Chip" is the dog in the red sweater. He is hiring us to get rid of "Cookie Crook", his boss and owner. The man in the background is Officer Crumb, head of the Boston PD narcotics unit. Chip has given us a time and a date for their next planned heist. If all goes according to plan, Chip will break off from Cookie Crook, exposing him to you.

The job will take place at the Museum of Baked Goods (ironically owned and operated by our good friend Wendell) on 12th Street in Boston. More instructions await you there.

TO: XXXX XXXXX XXXX
FROM: XX XXXXXX
DATE: XX/XX/01

[omitted], I know we've had a falling out since I last hired you. It is unfortunate that Officer Crumb spotted you and you had to kill him as well. I simply felt that this action came with the territory, and I did not want to pay you for the added hit.

So, to make amends, I'm prepared to pay you double your normal rate, for just a single kill. I've been hired by three young entrepeneurs to help them "expand their business". I cannot reveal their identities.

They have a particular grudge against one Coco the Monkey. Apparently he is to reckless with their beloved "Krispy" franchise, wildly pouring large amounts of chocolate over their rice bits and passing it off as his own product. Instead of suing for copyright infringement, they want him dead.

You'll be travelling to Perth, Australia for this one. Again I've included a round trip ticket. I'm not sure where exactly he's based there, but rumor has it you can bribe the locals easily and this ape holds a notorious reputation there.

Best of luck, if you choose this mission.

[omitted]

Italy

2006-10-22T21:38:00.000-05:00

Tiddlywinks of News

2006-10-20T15:10:00.000-05:00

News part one:

I've been writing a solo electronic/MIDI-ish album for the past 2 or 3 months and I recently finished it, under the moniker Big Dinosaur. The album is totally instrumental (I can't sing well), and I'm pleased with how it turned out. It's no "2112", if ya know what I'm sayin'. It's called "It's All Going To Be Okay, Have Some Lunch"; the title and some album content was inspired by a story a friend told me. Anywho, click the image/link below for more on that.
This is what happens when someone has very little else to do.

Download the whole album here.

News part two:

For reasons of pure nostalgia, my friends and I are re-releasing a giant media project we created throughout high school. It was called "The Bill Benz Show" (even though I doubt I contributed the most videos), and was met with general enthusiasm as we sold it to our friends and strangers (we actually sold hundreds of copies of each episode). Much of it was sketch comedy and so forth. Also much of it is absolute trash, looking back on it. But, there are parts that we still feel like looking back on.

This summer we -- Me, Jon Katz, and Mike Chen -- conducted several interviews on the background and production of the show, which was started almost 6 years ago and ended about 4 years ago. Much has changed since then, but with the advent of YouTube, we were willing to revisit these old vids. So stay tuned, you may like what you see*.

Here's a short little promo Jon threw together to get the world psyched for the return of the BBS.

*You will not.

On a More Serious Note...

2006-10-19T19:05:00.000-05:00

Democrats...

Mark Foley -- molested, drunk, and confused -- sent kids e-mails asking them about their penises and so forth. This has been the news for the past 2 weeks? I know this is a funny thing to attack the Republicans with, especially since they did it to you during the good ol' days.

But... WHO FUCKING CARES?! Pedophiles exist, yes. Sometimes in office, apparently. But this is not news. This is like a silly tabloid. No wonder you clowns have such a hard time getting into office! There are more important issues that it seems like just about every lefty has given up on. Do you know how many soliders have died in Iraq this month? Seventy! Fucking seventy!! Maybe if Mark Foley molested seventy kids it could be different. But, Jesus, c'mon!

You Know David Elsewhere?!

2006-10-17T11:56:00.000-05:00

Everyone likes to bring up their celebrity connections whenever they can. It's gratifying to be linked in some way to a figure in the world that is so ... celebrated. For instance, I once hung out with some kids who were cousins with Milla Jovovich. I went to school where Chris Matthews went. I live with Joe Stak. It's these relationships that always come up when someone talks about a celebrity encounter.

What I think is cooler though, is being friends with a really minor celebrity; not that I am or anything. I bet this very thing happened to Eli Whitney, famous for inventing the cotton gin. I imagine the following conversation probably happened...

Tobias: "Oh dear, I wish 'twasn't so hard to separate the cotton seeds from the cotton fluffs."

Humphrey: "So I hear."

Jules: "Well, my good sirs, I happen to know a man with the solution to this predicament."

Tobias: "Who praytell do you speak of?"

Jules: "Perhaps you've heard the name of the great inventor, Eli Whitney. He is a dear friend of mine."

Humphrey: "Eli Whats-it-whos-ah?"

Jules: "That's right, Eli Whitney! My beloved compatriot!"

Tobias: "What is this man's business in the cotton industry?"

Jules: "He invented the cotton gin, of course! My friend... he invented the cotton-fucking-gin."

Tobias: "And what does an elixer of cotton have to do with this?"

Humphrey: "The cotton whats-it-a-gin-a-ma-call-it?"

Jules: "It effortlessly removes the seed from the cotton plant. A machine... that my dear friend invented."

Tobias: "You don't say and..."

Jules: "Yes. It was invented by my friend, whom I know on a personal level."

Tobias: "This will surely be harmful to my slave trade."

That conversation really happened. Now, let's take a look at the modern equivalent of Eli Whitney: David Elsewhere (YouTube him, you'll know who I'm talking about). The following conversation has most likely happened somewhere in America.

Jay: "Man, I'm trying to take break dancing lessons. That shit is hard man!"

Allison: "Haha. Like pop and lock and all that?"

Danny: "Heh, funny story. I actually know David Elsewhere."

Jay: "Who?"

Danny: "David Elsewhere, man. He's a friend of mine. ... Probably the best pop and locker in the world."

Allison: "Never heard of him."

Danny: "You know. The kid that does that robot dance in the orange sweater in videos all over the internet."

Jay & Allison: "Ohhhhhh."

Danny: "Yeah, I know him."

Jay: "You know David Elsewhere?"

Allison: "Haha, that's crazy. Weird."

Danny: "Yeah, we're friends."

Jay: "Cool. So, anyway, my dance instructor is like this real hardcore dude."

Allison: "Like really into it?"

Jay: "I feel like he was a drill instructor or something, y'know?"

Danny: "Yeah. You should take lessons from my friend David Elsewhere."

Jay: "Ha ha. I guess I should."

Allison: (hitting Jay on the shoulder) "Yeah I'm sure he'd be just as good."

Danny: "Ha. I doubt it. No one is as good as that guy. I keep telling him and he's all like, 'Aw, c'mon. No.' He's so modest."

Allison: "...Yeah."

Jay: "So, this instructor dude -- Ace -- that's his name. Can you fucking believe that? Ace! Anyway, Ace has us doing those wall sit things where you are in a sitting position and hold it against a wall until you can't take it anymore. But he won't let us stop."

Allison: "Hahaha."

Jay: "And I'm like, to myself, man I just came here to learn how to break dance, I'm not signing up for Iraq or anything!"

Danny: "Well, I mean, you gotta be in shape though. My boy, David Elsewhere, he works out a ton every day. That's partly why he's such a good dancer."

Jay: "Oh..."

Allison: "Yeah... wow. ...Cool."

Danny: "Perhaps you've seen his new iPod commercial? He's one of those dancing sillhouettes."

Allison: "We get it, Dan, you know the guy."

Jay: "We don't give a shit about David Elsewhere, okay?"

Various Nuances of Ovaltine World

2006-10-11T12:34:00.000-05:00

The children came scampering into the kitchen, hooting with jocularity. Mother -- white, upper-middle class, perfect -- turned to greet them with a smile. Not just a smile, she's double fisting two glacially fogged glasses of murmuring malted chocolate drink.

"More Ovaltine, please!!!" was the muscular cry from the little league team.

"Oh, you kids," Mom says, shaking her head, orthodontically boasting.

Mom was not unprepared -- no, never will she ever be; she swings her soft, sexual, mauve-sweatered body to the side, revealing fourteen more glasses of delicious Ovaltine.

"Drink up, my cherubs, drink," Mom says, joyously cackling to her absent God.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Bobby slouches in his desk, distracting himself by flicking his pencil against an empty notebook.

"It's not that hard, Bobby" Mr. Weintraub says, peering down his spectacles.

"I'm just thinking," Bobby says, frustrated.

Mr. Weintraub perilously swings a pointer against the math problem on the board, "If I have one quarter gallon of Ovaltine and add a half gallon of Ovaltine, how much Ovaltine do I have?"

Bobby grabs a tuft of his hair, holding back tears. He hates math, he was never good at it. He can feel the heat coming from his classmates, crawling up the back of his neck deep into the nerve endings of his spinal column. He chokes a bit, stifling the welling sadness.

"Three quarters of a gallon of Ovaltine, Mr. Weintraub!" shouts Alice McDermott from the middle of the room.

"That's right, Alice. Three quarters of a gallon of Ovaltine," Mr. Weintraub says, sighing towards Bobby.

Bobby, red in the eyes, glares back at Alice, all perfect and angelic. He takes a smooth swig of chilled Ovaltine to calm his nerves. He won't let her forget this; soon the whole school will know who he is.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Bring in the defendant!" cried the Judge, batting his desk with the gavel.

A man in an orange jumpsuit, restrained at his ankles and wrists is lead to a modest chair in front of a meticulously polished mahogany desk. He glances up at the judge, ashamed, and quickly looks back at his feet.

"Quentin J. Peterson, how do you plead to unlawful possession of purple stuff?"

Quentin doesn't answer, he keeps staring at the floor.

"Mr. Peterson?" the Judge booms in his direction.

Quentin plays with his thumbs. He wonders to himself, what kind of world is this? How can he live in a world in which lactose-intolerance is accepted and a man is judged upon what beverages he consumes.

"C'mon, Quent. We don't have all day, c'mon," his lawyer, William chimes in. William looks busy, and his mind is not in the room. He adjusts his tie abruptly and begins to pour a court-provided pitcher of Ovaltine into his glass.

Quentin suddenly lashes forth. The pitcher of sweet, rich, and malty Ovaltine spills throughout the courtroom. William falls back with surprise.

The baliff draws his weapon, "Stop right there!"

From his jumpsuit pocket, Quentin pulls a juicebox containing some sort of non-Ovaltine drink.

"Mr. Peterson, stop this instant!" the Judge screams.

It's already too late, Quentin has begun to spray concentrated purple fluid into his mouth and all over his face, rapturously squeezing the laminated cardboard box. A whizzing crack is heard in the cavernous courtroom as the baliff fires a slug directly into Quentin's chest. He reels back, blood and purple stuff spray off his contorting body, twinkling in the fluorescent lights. Another shot, this one striking him in the shoulder, spinning him on his feet like a top.

Quentin comes to a fall in a puddle of Ovaltine, slowly mixing with purple drink from his juicebox. He gasps for air, but can only take in suffocating gulps of frothy, ambrosial Ovaltine. His vision blurs as Ovaltine soaks into his left eye, pressed against the cool courtroom floor. This is what he gets. This is what we all get... in Ovaltine World.

What the hell is a Rokushin?

2006-10-10T18:19:00.000-05:00

Seijin Noborikawa.

Who is he?

This is who he is:

(He's the one with the sanshin.)

My housemate Paulie showed me some of Mr. Noborikawa's music the other day, and I was all like "what is this?"

And he was all like, "Yo, this is... um... some Japanese guy."

And I was like "THIS IS DA BOMB!"

And he was like "YEAAAH!"

Then we had a contest where we pulled down our pants and wiggled our hips so that our penises made windmill motions, while giving each other high fives and giggling.

This story may or may not be true.

Anyway. This guy, Seijin, is great! I have no idea anything about him, what the songs are called, what instruments he's playing, or what the hell he's saying. But it makes me so happy.

It's the happiest music ever. He could be singing about oppressing peasants and I wouldn't care. This music is joyous.

Here's what I do know about him:

1. He's 75 or 76.
2. He likes to let the girlies sing.
3. He sometimes says this: "Ho-wooo!" and "Hup!"

Thanks, Paul. If you read this, try and find Seijin's album "Spiritual Unity".

Dead Garfield

2006-10-09T07:39:00.000-05:00

In my ongoing pursuit to openly criticize the newspaper comics page, I would like to discuss, for a moment, "Garfield". Obviously the strip is not that funny and many other bloggers have tackled this critter in more depth. I just feel the need to get out my own opinions.

First of all, can we talk about how high this cat is all the time?

Look at this bitch! Probably the most commercialized syndicated cartoon character. There's something to respect about Bill Watterson, who kept "Calvin & Hobbes" from ever having become a commodity (all those shirts and bumper stickers are actually illegal).

Anyway, a popular suggestion amongst comic critics is that "Garfield" becomes way funnier if you remove anything that the cat ever says. Instead of a comic about a fat, sarcastic cat, it becomes a comic about a crazy cat owner.

Therefore this:

...would become this:

Get it? Much funnier.

Well, instead of removing the caption at the end, I suggest adding another panel to the end of every "Garfield" strip. Do not remove any of Garfield's little thought bubbles, but simply add a final panel of Garfield stabbed to death, lying in a pool of his own blood. This would suggest that Jon finally lost it and killed Garfield. An example?

Get the picture? Here's a few more...

New Cereals and the Surprise Poop

2006-09-24T16:18:00.000-05:00

I know Mike is supposed to blog about cereal (well, really just one), but he's in Japan, so fuck him, I'll do it anyway. Plus I love me some cereal.

The two new ones in question here are

and

I tasted both of these cereals on the same day back in July. I'm writing about them now because I'm really craving one of them right now, but can't find it anywhere in the hood. And I don't have the funds to go to the burbs to buy some cereal (although I surely would).

Eggo cereal sucks. It's like a giant shitty ripoff of the mighty Waffle Crisp. Honestly, did they think they could make a better waffle-themed cereal than Waffle Crisp? The first worst part about Eggo Cereal is that it tastes like nothing. It has no taste that separates it from water. But the worst part is that it gets sooo soggy, sooo fast. Get this: it gets both soggier faster than Golden Grahams! I mean, with the right amount of milk you can still have an amazing bowl of Golden Grahams, but Eggo Cereal affords you no such option. You put milk on the Eggo clusters and suddenly it's absorbed and there are just a bunch of crammed and bloated cereal bits left. You can probably wring them out.

But, there's hope. Caramel Nut Clusters is the best new cereal to come along since Honey Bunches of Oats. It's just the right caramel to nut ratio. And don't get me started on the crunch... oh, that crunch! Don't get me wrong, it's definetly an aquired taste. It's kinda like the first time I listened to the album "Sung Tongs" by Animal Collective; I was interested, but also sorta baffled. I found myself returning again and again to the album and enjoying it more and more with each listen. Caramel Nut Clusters is like that. Intruiging at first, leading to one of the biggest payoffs in the modern cereal business.

Moving on to totally unrelated business...

Today I encountered the infamous "surprise poop". I was sitting at this very computer in the Temple University TECH Center, when suddenly a wild rumble filled my bowels! "What ho!" I exclaimed. It was the BMW of shit rumblings: zero to sixty in 5 seconds. I had no choice but to run to the nearest lavatory to delete this poopy from my booty.

It was a regular poop too, it just came on so fast! Also, readers should keep in mind that I am a bidaily shitter. There are a handful of people that do this, you know who you are, I'm just going public. I do not poop every day. In fact, almost on schedule, I poop every other day. And this is usually why my poops are so big and prone to toilet clog. There's simply something wrong in the wiring of my brain that doesn't tell me I have to shit until my intestines have reached max capacity. I eat a lot, probably more than the average person, so it can't be lack of nourishment. I'm just a bidaily-big-shitter and I'm out of the watercloset for the world to accept.

Not just white, but also nerdy.

2006-09-20T14:47:00.000-05:00

Our boy, Jon Katz has been straight lampin' in L.A. the past month. While there, he was able to appear in Weird Al's new video. The song itself is a parody of the incredible "Ridin' Dirty" by Chamillionaire. Jon is in the AV Club in the yearbook section. Congrats on infiltrating the system!

A scene from "Dracula With AIDS"

2006-09-20T12:30:00.000-05:00

Inspired by talking with fellow film media majors Chris and Sean...

Dracula With AIDS
a script for the stage

Curtain rises. The scene is a decrepid, cobweb-soaked house, lush with deep blues and grays. A lone figure -- DRACULA -- sits on a vintage paisley sofa. It is night, a spooky flash of lightning blinks in the distance through a window. The front door (stage left) opens as thunder tumbles in the distance. THE WOLFMAN comes in, taking off his coat and hat. Bats fly down and retrieve them, pulling them away [note: get special effects working on that].

WOLFMAN: Hey, what are you still doing awake?

DRACULA: (noticeably distant) ...Oh, hello.

WOLFMAN: Hey, Dracula. Guess what happened today?

DRACULA: Mmm?

WOLFMAN: I killed someone. Finally! I did it! I can't remember the last time I devoured the flesh from a man's limbs! God damn, it was so... so... GRATIFYING!

DRACULA: ...That's good.

WOLFMAN: (sitting down across from Dracula) What's wrong, Dracula?

DRACULA: Nothing. Nothing, I'm happy for you. (Feigns a weak smile)

WOLFMAN: Are you sure, you seem so... distant.

DRACULA: No. Nothing's wrong.

WOLFMAN: (leaning forward) You know it's so obvious when you're upset. Why don't you just tell me?

DRACULA: (recoiling) I'm fine. There's nothing wr-

WOLFMAN: Dammit, Dracula! I'm SO SICK of this!

DRACULA: (visibly hurt) I'm sor-

WOLFMAN: Every day I come back from a haunting you are miserable! I'm so sick of you being such a downer all the time. I mean when was the last time you and I went on a haunt... you know, together?

DRACULA: (still quiet) Well, I'm sick too.

WOLFMAN: (getting up) Whatever! I'm going up to my room, you can be a bitch down here.

DRACULA: (abruptly) I have AIDS, Wolfman.

Wolfman halts dead in his tracks, facing away from Dracula.

DRACULA: (to himself, quietly) I have AIDS.

WOLFMAN: (spinning around) I... I... oh my god.

DRACULA: I didn't want to tell you... to upset you.

WOLFMAN: (in disbelief) Wha-? Jesus, how?

DRACULA: Listen, it's okay. I'm going to handle this best I can. I... should have realized this would happen, you know? I mean, I took as many precautions as I could, but... fuck, I mean, I have to eat blood, right?

Wolfman is stunned. He sits back down, about to speak. Suddenly the rear wall collapses in a dramatic flash of dust and debris. Of course it's THE OOZE GOBLIN, the biggest troublemaker in the world of haunts and ghouls.

OOZE GOBLIN: (sliming on everything) Haha, what's up dicks?

WOLFMAN: Now is not the time, Ooze Goblin.

OOZE GOBLIN: (slimily slapping Wolfman on the back) Aw, cheer up you big pussy! I heard you killed someone today... fuckin' right on! That's what I'm talking about. (turns to Dracula) Hey, what are you doing awake? You know it's almost dawn. The zombies are starting to wake up.

DRACULA: (getting up, heading towards the door) I know. (a lone tear falls from his eyes)

OOZE GOBLIN: What the fuck, man. What the hell is going on?

WOLFMAN: Dracula, what are you doing?

DRACULA: The only thing left for me to do.

The pale orange and yellow hues of the rising sun begin to filter through the windows and open door. Smoke rises like steam from Dracula's cape as he slowly saunters out the door, offstage.

WOLFMAN: DRACULA! STOP!

There is a large bang and a huge puff of smoke billows in through the door. Wolfman and Ooze Goblin are stunned, frozen in horror. Drop curtain.

An Open Letter: Part Three

2006-09-11T15:38:00.000-05:00

Dear Alexander Hanson, Ikea Sales Dept.,

I'm writing in regards to one of your products that we have been experiencing problems with. It's in your coffee table series, specifically the 'EDEN model 3115 SOIL-BROWN LIVING ROOM Frn. 1212'. It's a small brown coffee table. The problem we encounter is not neccesarily how it breaks, but what your sales rep told us would be good for our "situation". I'm sure your complaints department knows my name by now and the name of one Stephen Urkle who is often over my house and, sadly, often breaking my coffee table that I so trustingly bought from your establishment. The specifics of the various breaks are not important; usually slipping and falling out of surprise. Granted, this is outside of your jurisdiction, as it is our own fault that we let this menace into our home. However, your sales represenative did tell us that the replacement would be able to withstand someone falling on it, but I'll be damned he did it again. And yes, he "did do that". So if you could possibly replace the coffee table in question, I would be delighted.

Thanks for your time,
Carl Winslow

~~~~

Dear Alexander Hanson, Ikea Sales Dept.,

Hi, Alex, I wrote you a letter a couple of weeks ago in regard to the 'EDEN model 3115 SOIL-BROWN LIVING ROOM Frn. 1212' coffee table. Your letter was very nice and I'm pleased that you replaced the coffee table, but the problem is that you sent me an identical coffee table! Now I'm just a police officer in inner-city Chicago, I can't afford to keep buying the same coffee table again and again. Even as I check the packaging now I can clearly read 'EDEN model 3115 SOIL-BROWN LIVING ROOM Frn. 1212'! We've had the same coffee table in our house destroyed over and over again, and I'm honestly fed up. I need a change. Of course Stephen broke the new one you sent us, almost immediately. I've taken steps to obtain a restraining order, because I believe he has a bizarre sexual lust for my daughter and is stalking her. I really don't want him around her, but that's a seperate matter -- a family matter. Please, if you can, send us another, more durable coffee table.

Thanks again,
Carl Winslow

P.S. I believe in your return letter you meant to say all those good things about "Stephan Urkle", because the "Stephen" I know is a real bitch.

Big Dino-snore

2006-09-09T12:48:00.000-05:00

Hi kids, I still don't have internet at mi casa, but I decided I would still find time to shamelssly plug my new endeavors. My solo EXB side project, Big Dinosaur, is up and running. I'm enjoying it much so far. This blog is kinda the official site of BD now, but I'll still just be writing stupid essays.

So that's all for now. Check it out, son!

No update long time

2006-09-08T12:31:00.000-05:00

Well, shit.

I haven't updated this thing in awhile, but I still plan to, I just don't have internet right now at my home home, and then I moved into this new place that continues the not-having-ness of the internet. But stuff has been going on. Here's the scoop.

In EXB's absence, I decided to branch off a little and write solely electronic music. Since there's no rap, I get more room for experimenting... don't worry, it's still reallly lame. I'm in the process of setting up a myspace site for it, but since I don't have internet til the 15th (fingers crossed), I have to wait a little. It's called Big Dinosaur, see what's there for now.

In other news, our mutual friend Jon Katz of MCV fame, recently attended the filming of Weird Al's new music video. Keep an eye peeled.

Marmaduke Can't Actually Vote; He's Fictional

2006-08-01T13:50:00.000-05:00

Hey dudes and dudettes and trans-dudies and little baby doodies. I'm guest-blogging again at Marmaduke Can Vote. Mr. Jon Katz is travelling cross country from Philly to Los Angeles. I'll be blogging over there 'til August 5th. After that, our buddy Pete will be taking over.

Me and Jon having fun.

Pete at Bush Inauguration 2: Oops I Did It Again

So that's really all for now.

Open Letter

2006-07-28T16:05:00.000-05:00

Today I saw something while riding my bike. It was a person that I really desperately wanted to talk to, but couldn't summon the will power. I was intimidated by this person, but at the same time, incredibly intruiged. What had put this person before me? What series of events led us to cross paths at that very moment? What I would give for a moment to maybe chat and grab a bite to eat with this person. I wish I had said stopped and said, "Hey, why don't you come to the beach with me. I'll walk my bike. Come along." The following is an open letter to this person.

Dear Naked Man Standing in the Street,
Where to begin; I feel like there is so much to talk about, even though I've only known you a short time. Know -- do I even know you? I wish I did. Well, now that you're reading this, hopefully you'll want to know me. Just don't show up at my house... naked and all. So, sir, why are you without clothing? Perhaps an F-14 Tomcat took off on this street and blew your wardrobe off (that would explain the dazed look on your face). Please, my new friend, I implore you to tell me why you are in the nude. Your pale white skin suggests a life hidden in your basement, but your weathered arms lead me to believe that you are a craftsman; a carpenter presumably. A crazy carpenter -- no doubt, as our place of meeting was a public street at just past noon on this beautiful New Jersey day. The heat is harsh today, be wary of your tender and newly-sunkissed genitals. Apply a tanning lotion where neccesary.

A woman is coming out now to call you in -- your wife? neighbor? state-liscened mentally challenged home care-taker? Whatever the case may be, she is cool and calm in this situation. You're a lucky man, whoever she is. She is there for you when you are wrinkled and naked in the outdoors. Her overall ease with the circumstances before us leads me to believe that the two of you have been in this same place several times before. Is she holding you back? Is she stopping you from achieving total freedom in the beautiful wilderness of this urban shore point? If so, run. Run as fast as you can. Get away from this street. There are many more streets ahead. Follow me. Don't be afraid. Never be afraid.

-Bill

How Punk Rock Is This!?

2006-07-18T12:03:00.000-05:00

So the other day, some friends and I were chillin' at the beach -- maxin' and relaxin' to be specific -- and all of the sudden some really punked out kids show up and throw down some towels and lay down. It was odd to me because punk rock has always been about having fun, but not in conventional ways. Punk rock is about bucking the system and doing it different just because it is different.

Yeah, punk rock is pretty stupid in a lot of ways -- at least as an ideology not a music.

So these orange mohawked pale rebels got me thinking about what specifically are the most un-punk things in the world. For your entertainment, here is the list below. Note: if you make it a point to only listen to 80s hardcore you can take this list seriously... for everyone else, it's a joke.

10. Progressive Rock
Any song that features a guitar solo longer than a Gorilla Biscuits album is pretty much dead to punk rock.

9. Sweaters
Being warm is technically not unpunk, but usually wearing anything woolen is. It's open for debate if the sweater has argyles.

8. Awards
The Sex Pistols denied any induction into the rock 'n roll hall of fame. And thus, so should any self respecting punk rock group deny any award.

7. Most punk bands
What is punk? In an interview, Social Distortion's Mike Ness said that when a punk band makes unpunk music, that's one of the most punk rock things they can do. As punk evolves and changes, what truely has it become? Is a band like The Locust punk rock? Who knows? But it's truly left to the punks to debate, and so, most punk bands are decried as actually not being punk.

6. Attention spans
There's a great NOFX song that lasts about 10 seconds and the lyrics are "I have a short attention span, that's how I listen to this song". What the hell was Green Day thinking when they wrote that 9-minute opus on their new album?!

5. Scholastic accolade
Doing well in school is absolutely not punk rock. Even though it's cool to not care about school work, punks have to forget what the popular kids are doing and fight the greater enemy: the man (the school system). Don't become a mindless drone! If you are a punk and haven't dropped out of high school, do it now!

4. Making money
Remember, if you're a punk you still think communism is better than capitalism.

3. The Republican Party
This doesn't need an explaination.

2. Pop-punk
One of the most despised things in the punk community. How could punk also be pop?! This has been a problem since punk first got popular ever since it came out.

1. Yachting
Just about the most yuppie thing that ever existed. And we all know that Punks:Yuppies::Very Punk: Very Unpunk. Solve that equation, son!

Royalties?

2006-06-30T18:03:00.000-05:00

Yo, these guys totally ripped me off. I posted about this months ago.

The Three Finger Salute

2006-06-23T11:38:00.000-05:00

So my friend Jon, stumbled across one of the funniest forums ever. It involves discusssion amongst devout Republicans about the stickers on their cars. The forum is here, or just read the text below.

Posted on 07/03/2004 12:05:22 PM PDT by elder5

I just got back last week from driving across the country, I live in Washington State and drove to PA in see my wifes family and took I-80 and I-90 back home.

With my Bush/Cheney sticker from 2000 in my back window along with my W-04 sticker I got a aproviel rating of about 75% judging from the honks and thumbs ups from fellow drivers. Funny how I got the 1 finger salute from the folks with the Kerry stickers (1). My question to you is do you vent your hate and anger at fellow drivers on the road with a Kerry sticker or do you just shake you head and think "What would Dick Cheney say"? (2)

PS I got most of the finger salutes the more I got closer to Portland ,Oregon.

To: elder5

I made a trip two weeks ago from Las Vegas, up I15, and into Washington State. The reactions to my 'W 2004' sticker were positive until I got into the Seattle area where I got numerous one-finger salutes.

I also haven't seen as many Kerry stickers anywhere as I did there. You people have a real problem in the Puget Sound area.

posted on 07/03/2004 12:21:14 PM PDT by x1stcav (http://www.ronaldreaganmemorial.com/photo_gallery.asp)

To: elder5

"What would Dick Cheney say"?

WWDCS

Now that would be an excellent bumper sticker (3).

posted on 07/03/2004 9:06:04 PM PDT by PaleoConservative(Do not remove this tag under penalty of law.)

To: elder5

I think it is significant that you are getting the one finger salute from Kerry supporters for various reasons:
1. That's what he used toward a Viet Nam Vet at the Viet Nam Wall in D.C. on Memorial Day (what a role model for his followers)
2. That's the only salute most of them know, having not served in the military or have any use for it.
3. Kerry supporters, like their role model, resort to this type of behavior when confronted with things, ideas, concepts, etc that they cannot handle or concieve(like moral values, or seeing a happy, content and confident Bush supporter)(4)

posted on 07/03/2004 9:06:54 PM PDT by MSgt1989

To: elder5

The next time somebody gives you the one-finger salute, respond with the three finger salute. Eventually they will figure out that the gesture bears a strong resemblance to a "W"(5).

posted on 07/03/2004 10:17:36 PM PDT by Texas Eagle (If it wasn't for double-standards, Liberals would have no standards at all)

To: elder5

"My question to you is do you vent your hate and anger at fellow drivers on the road with a Kerry sticker or do you just shake you head and think "What would Dick Cheney say"?"

I've gotten some 1 finger salutes, I typically just smile and wave back.

Once in a while, I'll see a car with LLL stickers like "Impeach the Son of a Bush" or whatever, I get in front of them in my Wrangler and drive real slowfor about 15 seconds to make sure they see my GOP and B/C04 stickers.

I've never been outright rude. That's just wrong, it sets a bad example.

posted on 07/04/2004 11:44:33 AM PDT by adam_az (Call your State Republican Party office and VOLUNTEER!!!!)

To: elder5

" My question to you is do you vent your hate and anger at fellow drivers on the road with a Kerry sticker..."

Heck no. Too many nutjobs out there...(6)

posted on 07/04/2004 1:51:41 PM PDT by OpusatFR (I only see movies for the popcorn. I'd rather read the book.)

To: Paleo Conservative

Yup, it would.

(7)

posted on 07/08/2004 1:52:45 PM PDT by Fixit (Scary Redwords -- A Strangled America)

To: elder5

I was driving from Tacoma to Moses Lake and saw a car with a homemade sign in the back window that read "Regime change starts at home". As I passed him, I looked at him so he could see my GW 2004 hat. He looked surprised (8). He passed me later with no comment. He got off the highway at Ellensberg (figures, CWU student. A liberal haven in Gods country). But as he got off the highway he slowed down too fast, so I looked out the corner of my eye to see him saluting me liberal style. Poor boy couldn't do it without knowing he was safe. Typical liberal, peace...unless you disagree with me.

On the other hand, I drive to Seattle a few times a month and have never been saluted (I have a W sticker on 3 sides of my truck). I wear my GW shirts downtown and people say "nice shirt". I'm a little surprised by the reaction. This from people who voted for Patty Murry and Jim McDermott. They're also responsible for Maria Cant-do-well and Gary Grid-Locke.

Never try to understand the Left, just win baby.

posted on 07/14/2004 8:54:24 PM PDT by Drathaar (http://rightonpolitics.blogspot.com/)

To: Paleo Conservative

WWDCS, now thats funny! I would buy that sticker.

posted on 07/14/2004 8:55:38 PM PDT by Drathaar (http://rightonpolitics.blogspot.com/)

To: Fixit

Ok, I'm ordering. I'll stick Drathaar somewhere in the order so you know its me. This is too good. (9)

posted on 07/14/2004 8:59:12 PM PDT by Drathaar (http://rightonpolitics.blogspot.com/)

1. This is not actually funny.
2. He would probably say "Go fuck yourself". Remember this?
3. I agree.
4. Link
5. With a 65% success rate.
6. And history has proven that latte-loving Seattle socialite liberals are the ones that are truely dangerous.
7. I would have designed it differently. The brick wall speaks too loudly in the background. Perhaps a waving American flag would be better? Discuss.
8. Which is odd, because nothing is surprising about an old man staring at you while you're on the highway.
9. I agree.

They Can Only Become Stairs

2006-06-14T18:38:00.000-05:00

Dear man in front of me on the escalator,

Nice day today isn't it? Yeah, I heard it 's supposed to rain later though. Ever notice that it's been raining at 6 PM every day for the last month? Weird.

Well, let's just step onto the escalator. Going down, ding ding! Ha ha ha.

And so... wait, what's going on here. Um. Uh, sir... wait. Why are you no longer walking? Well yes, I did realize that we stepped onto an escalator. Yes, that's true sir... yes they do move on their own.

Okay, maybe I could just squeeze arou- no... alright. Sooo... what didja get? A lobster bib? Wow, sounds nice.

So... uh, are you gonna just scoot on down these steps? Well yeah, but they do move rather slow. I mean, ha ha, if they were just stairs you would be walking down them anyway. Yes, that's true, sir: they aren't stairs. No you're right.

To an extent. I mean they are stairs, if you want to get technical. Just moving stairs, you know?

[I'm putting my hands in my pockets with my thumbs sticking out, rocking back and forth at the waist and whistling]

Yep. Rain to-night.

Okay, honestly, you have to walk around the rest of the mall. It's not like there's a conveyer belt everywhere. I don't think the inventors of the escalator intended for people to stand still as the steps moved. Well that's true, sir -- I don't know who invented the escalator. What's that? Yes, they probably were French. Oh. Well, I wouldn't say that's true of all French citizens.

Welp... looks like we're approaching the bottom. Aaaand... yeah, there goes your foot. That's kinda the motion I was hoping you'd make the whole way down, actually. The eagle has landed. Alright, great. Great talking to ya.

-Bill Benz

Lingo For The FAD

2006-06-12T13:16:00.000-05:00

Many of you may find yourselves in the category of being the Aggressive Asshole Driver -- or AAD. Many people, myself included, feel that moving at a comfortable speed is more important than obeying the lawful, posted speed limit. Usually you go over the speed limit because you are extremely impatient and want to be going at a faster velocity. You also have a problem with taking turns to fast.

However, there's a difference between an AAD and a FAD -- the Focused Aggressive Driver. To the FAD, there is a real mission being accomplished in "making great time". On highways, they are tactful yet meticulous. On town roads they are sly and resourceful. The following is a list of terms taken from the FAD textbook.

Line - A line is a path on a highway that allows you to overtake as many cars as possible in one swift motion. See image below...

Making Good Time - The goal of all FADs. If anyone asks why you "can't just enjoy the trip", a FAD will typically reply "I am", followed by a seductive smirk.

Polar Lanes - Polar lanes occur when too many AADs are on the road. The AADs begin to crowd the passing lanes, making them too congested to be effective. Therefore, the right lane actually moves faster than the left lane. Usually the AADs stay in the left lane because they think they're all hotshots who should be going faster than everyone else. The FAD will switch to the right lane with no problem.

Blinker Sharks - Typically AADs; these are the people that turn on their blinker and turn at the same time defeating the purpose of the blinker as a warning.

Yellow Alert Mode - While on the road alone you are more likely to be spotted speeding and recieve a ticket. Before all overpasses or other places where a police car may be hiding, reduce speed greatly. Keep in mind, nowadays many police cars will be on top of the overpass recording speed and then radio down to another car.

Orange Alert Mode - When flashing lights of any kind are visible far down the road behind you.

Red Alert Mode - When flashing police car lights are visible behind you, relatively close.

Twins - Perhaps one of the most aggrivating parts of highway driving. This is when two or more cars are driving directly next to each other at exactly the same speed, thus making the pass impossible. I swear I once saw a group of four across a four lane highway in the middle of Pennsylvania. Twins are aggrivating because it's as if they have no concept in their mind as to what the passing lane is actually for. See image below...

Staggered Twins - This is pretty much the same thing as twins, except they are not directly next to each other, however it is still two cars driving the same speed in different lanes. If you're going to drive the same speed, just get into the other lane. They lack respect (see "respect" below).

Good Samaritan - These are the people that drive the exact speed limit in the passing lane just to fight against the global wave of speeding. Extremely smug and no different in personality than the AADs. Commonly referred to as PADs -- Passive Aggressive Drivers.

Respect - Respect is when you are seen quickly approaching behind another driver and they pull to the right-hand lane. They have respected your speed and want you to continue on such a trajectory. Oftentimes, as a FAD, you too will have to give other drivers respect and pull to the right. When a driver has been respected, as he passes them he/she is to wave, salute, or snap the pointer finger into the thumb and middle finger.

Wingman - A wingman is another FAD (rarely an AAD) that has found a navigatable line in front of you. A wingman doesn't count if you know the person; a wingman must simply appear during your travels. Generally it's a good idea to follow them in the interest of making good time. When your wingman departs it's appropriate to offer him a respectful salute or snap. Once I travelled with a wingman for about 80 miles, to offer my respect as he took an exit near Harrisburg, I opened the window and extended a two fingered peace sign.

You Can't Hold 10 Pokemon

2006-06-07T00:10:00.000-05:00

Maybe it's just that it's late, but I cracked the hell up watching this. Thanks Fry for sending it to me.

Shows I Wish I Was At

2006-05-30T00:04:00.000-05:00

You can never see every band you want to. Sometimes it's because of the unfortunate timing of your birth. Other times it's because you didn't get into the band until it was too late to see them in a live setting [during their prime].

Here's a pointless, self-indulgent list of shows I wish I had seen in my life. Some were possible, I just missed the boat, others took place in a far away time.

The Impossibles - (Never) Say Goodbye

This footage is from their last show ever in their hometown of Austin, TX. I got into this band in high school, which is right at the same time that they broke up. They're one of the few pop-punk bands that I've tolerated for more that a couple years.

The Dismemberment Plan - The Ice of Boston

Again, I got into these guys during high school, so they probably got word and decided to break up. I love that the idiot yelling things in the crowd has to add "Yeah, I'm from Philly!". I swear Philadelphia is home to the worst audiences in America. God bless 'em.

Cap'n Jazz - Que Suerte

Broke up while I was still but a lad. This is my favorite Kinsella band.

Pixies - Hey

I would love to go back to "Doolittle" era Pixies and see one of their shows. How sweet would that be?

I would also like to see Lifetime live right before they broke up in the 90s. Although I could always see them live now, because they're back together. So, maybe I will.

Dear Girl That Works at Blockbuster...

2006-05-25T01:23:00.000-05:00

Dear girl that works at Blockbuster,

I understand that you have a profound pride in your position at Blockbuster video, but perhaps I may offer some helpful tidbits of advice. The force with which you open my returned DVD rentals is particularly startling. With a feral swipe, you crack open the click-seal case, ferociously seeking the disc inside. Aha! But perhaps I, the customer that stands before you, have attempted to pull off some light-hearted shenanigans, by replacing the DVD inside with another one! So, of course, with impeccable sleuthing skills, you investigate the cover of the disc, to make sure that no foul play is afoot. Aloud, you switch back and forth from the case to the disc, matching each line: "Arrested... Development... Season Two... Disc Three...". Surely any other -- less important -- Blockbuster employee would have stopped at the show title, seeing that the individualized graphic is the same on both the cover and the disc. But that's what separates you from those other clowns, isn't it? And thank you, miss, because without your reading aloud of this action, I may never have known your true intentions as you repeatedly flipped the case. Perhaps this next part is not an attempt at intimidation -- but if it is, you have scored a deadly blow to my nerves! Instead of turning the case to see the disc right side up -- as I have clumsily placed the disc in at a 165-degree angle in relation to the southern portion of the case -- you slam your fingers upon its shiny metalic face, and swipe the disc towards you as a DJ would scratch a record. Scratch being an operative word in this case. Fortunately, I've come up clean... this time. It's because of employees like you that I have never attempted the fabled DVD switch-out. Best of luck in your shining future at Blockbuster!

-Bill Benz

P.S. I may have dodged your wiley attempt to get me to sign up for the "great deal" at Blockbuster Online, but don't leave thinking that was an entirely unsuccessful encounter; it remained on my mind the rest of the day.

Words and Melody

2006-05-23T01:00:00.000-05:00

I wish that I didn't constantly talk about music in this blog, but it's usually what I'm thinking about, so let's just go with it.

I've often asked myself what is more important in music: the instrumentation or the lyrics. I mean obviously you need both to have a good song, but which weighs more? Really, it's sooo subjective that it's almost pointless to debate it, but it's late and I don't start work for like a week, so I need to fill this absence of sprightliness in my life.

First let me say how wonderful melody, tone, and overall sound are. Without words, music can still be overwhelmingly moving and affecting. This is especially true of classical music. I enjoy many modern bands that take the instrumental route, such as Pelican (whom I was able to see live recently and they were fantastic) and Explosions in the Sky. Hell, to me, even a band like Sigur Ros is instrumental because I don't speak Icelandic (or Hopelandic) and his voice seems more like an instrument than a pedestal for meaning to sprout from. I once heard someone say that they thought the human voice was the most beautiful instrument. I think I would agree with that.

So, even the sound of the voice must be considered an instrument, not placed in the lyrics section of the argument. Oftentimes I can't hear or don't pay close enough attention to the lyrics. And while a good song can really floor me, a good lyric added to that is what really crushes me. I was listening to this Canadian pop-punk group, Moneen, the other day, not really paying attention to the words. However, in the last song on their album, the clearest line is "...and kill yourself, surprise your friends" and it really had an impact on me. It's such a devastating line, especially since I wasn't expecting it. It's moments like this, where it's almost undeniable that my connection point with music is through the lyrics.

The problem is, I most likely won't listen to an artist with good lyrics when I don't like the music. Here's how lyrics are effective: the music must be the main focus to get people to listen, once that is accomplished, good lyrics are vital. Oftentimes, when people list guilty pleasures in music -- or pop culture in general -- it is because the words or subtext of it are less than thrilling. For me, this vice is the band Hellogoodbye. I think they have the catchiest damn songs, but their lyrics are just ridiculous. But I don't fault them because I don't think they're out there to do anything but have fun.

All of my favorite songs begin with good tunes, but then get matched with the right lyrics, pushing them so much further. Case in point: the Modest Mouse song, "Trailer Trash". The instrumentation is very loose and flowing -- by itself nothing very special. However, singer Issac Brock begins spitting gems of lines over the jangly pseudo-ballad: "Short love with a long divorce / And a couple of kids of course / They don't mean anything" and "Taking heartache with hard work / Goddamn I am such a jerk, I can't do anything / And I shout that you're all fakes / And you should have seen the look on your face". It just propels the song to a whole new place, plus it gives it a literal meaning. While adding a literal meaning to songs through lyrics can alienate people that would relate to the instrumental mood, it creates an even more powerful mood for people that can relate to the lyrics. Another example of this sensation is the final track to Radiohead's album "Kid A". It is very sparse, with just a haunting organ and harp. Thom Yorke's final words before the song dissolves into an ambient haze are "It's not like the movies / They fed us on little white lies / I think you're crazy, maybe / I think you're crazy, maybe / I will see you in the next life".

Plus I think most Modest Mouse lyrics are really great. Other bands that I feel have far better than average lyrics are the Pixies (watch their Letterman performance here, it's fantastic), Bjork (her lyrics are generally simple, but very cinematic, especially when coupled with the backing music), Bright Eyes (his lyrics far outweigh his musical abilities in my opinion), Every Time I Die (sarcastic, hilarious, and generally scathing), The Flaming Lips (dare I say, prophetic? ...), The Microphones, and Wilco.

I'll close this post with the full lyrics to a song by one of my all time favorite bands, The Dismemberment Plan -- a band who I think has some of the best lyrics out there. The song is called "Back and Forth". I'll divide it into sections to make it easier to digest, but seriously read them because they are wonderful.

There’s a kind of music that reminds me of you
It’s all clear expensive drinks and shiny shirts
And the click of heels as they descend from the taxi
Like the first foot on the moon, oh, and it glows with ache
And if it hits me right it’s almost too much to take
And it’s got right angle razor thin lines
That turn and swerve like perfect sines
As we dress to the nines in an
Attempt to leave it all behind
In a search of the moment between the seconds where
Everything is just fine That silver thread imbedded deep within our spines

And I used to be kind of weird about this
A fear of dependence on a guilty gilt-edged
Hedged transcendence that makes us liars
And tense when we look down and realize
That nothing really suspends us
But it was never just another
Saturday night
Not with you in attendance

So throw your hands in the air
And wave them like you just don’t care
It’s on a whim; it’s on a dare
To shrug away what we can’t bear
And we’re going back and forth
And back and forth and back and forth and back
We’re going back and forth
And back and forth and back and forth and back

And it’s a deep blue see-through membrane that protects us
It connects us, a pulsing cellophane
Party-train skein that helps us and
Envelopes and keeps us locked inside
Forever and ever along for the ride
And we’re moving through a phosphorescent gel
A semi-solid self-lit ocean and it’s a funny notion, isn’t it?
Yeah, but I’m kinda digging it
And it’s rigged and isn’t nearly so big
And it speaks only of its own
Perpetual near miss
Like the uncertain memory
Of a stranger’s mistaken kiss

And faces slide by in glowing shadows
Like snowbound ghosts that go up and down
In epileptic shivers and negative radioactive slivers
In a landscape of endless dull glitter
And a taste in my mouth so sweet, yet so bitter
And we exhaust ourselves trying to get there

Somebody scream—all right
We’ll try to fill the echoless night
So fasten up and hold tight
We can’t give up without a fight
And we’re going back and forth
And back and forth and back and forth and back
We’re going back and forth
And back and forth and back and forth and back

So in the end, whatever, we die, we dissolve
Equations unbalanced, riddles unsolved
And we were never connected or involved
Except for the intersections and crazy mathematics
With no time and no space and no schedule and no place
And we pass right through it without a trace
And sometimes that music drifts through my car
On a spring night when anything is possible
And I close my eyes and I nod my head
And I wonder how you been and I count to a hundred and ten
Because you’ll always be my hero
Even if I never see you again

By the way, I'm still doing guest week over at Marmaduke Can Vote and CTRL-ALT-DELETE has a new format.

A Reminder -- like that Radiohead song

2006-05-20T13:14:00.000-05:00

Hey, just a reminder.

All this week I am guest-blogging over at Marmaduke Can Vote. So check in each and every day!

Love, Bill

Marmaduke Will Continue To Vote

2006-05-18T11:52:00.000-05:00

Hey kids and kids. Sorry I haven't updated in so long. Who do I think I am -- Mitch Clem?

Anyway, this isn't a real update, because I haven't thought of anything inspired in the last week or so. Buuuut, here's some news tidbits. My friend Jon runs a curious blog about the very first topic I ever blogged about: a continuing look at the comic strip, Marmaduke.

Wait, who's that at the door? Oh, it's Jon. Yeah, here's Jon now. Hi, Jon.

Jon here will be away for the next week, so I'll be taking over his blog, Marmaduke Can Vote, in his absence. So if you want to see anything updated by me, head over to that blog starting Saturday.

That's all. Love, Bill.

I Get It

2006-05-06T14:15:00.000-05:00

I was thinking the other day about the joke, "why did the chicken cross the road". I think I finally "got" it and I'm going to try to put it into words. "Why did the chicken cross the road" is easily one of the funniest jokes ever.

Everyone uses it as the quintessential joke, so it's actual funniness has drastically depreciated. Perhaps the oddest part about the joke is that it is not actually a joke at all, but a statement. The joke of this joke is that it is not joke. It's a fairly complex use of humor, perhaps the first ironic joke ever. It's weird that the chicken joke is "the joke". The first joke that anyone hears is not a joke, which in turn actually is a joke.

But why is the chicken joke the joke? It can't be the first joke ever, as some would purport, because a background of real jokes are needed before a joke can exist that pokes fun at the structure of conventional jokes. It's also certainly not funny; more of a joke for the teller than the listener. In fact, it is a trick. The trick is that the listener is so prepared for the convention of the joke process that they don't think about the non-jokingness of the chicken joke.

All of this has been lost since the chicken joke is now itself a convention that can be played with. But in its heyday, it was a very clever play on joke form, I'm sure of it. The chicken joke is the anti-joke, except eventually everyone was "in on" the joke, sucking the fun out of it. It was once a bold and daring joke that stood against all the other jokes in the whole melage of jokes. Today, however, it has fallen from grace, becoming itself a commodity that can never return to being cool again. Kinda like emo music. I wonder if there will be a day that dead baby jokes will be like that.

Explosive Bear - A Eulogy

2006-05-02T20:37:00.000-05:00

Explosive Bear was just a comedy rap group. It was fun and dandy. We made lots of friends and played lots of shows and made lots of enemies and didn't play that many shows really. Explosive Bear was pronounced dead sometime around noon today, in the Temple University cafeteria where the quesadillas are served.

Why EXB lasted for so long is beyond me. Well, not really, I honestly had a huge amount of fun doing this -- being a rapper -- over the past 2 years. But it was just supposed to be a joke for open mic nights at the Owl Cove. Every step further we took with the band, we said to ourselves, "Okay, we stop here," but we kept going. And it was fun, absolutely one of the best things I ended up doing during college. Out of everyone in Explosive Bear, I assume that I was the one that enjoyed it the most. Of course, I didn't want to seem too into it, so I tried to not seem like I cared a whole lot. But still, I would find myself trying to not bring it up when we weren't doing anything related to it, because, hey, we could discuss if it's funnier to rap about juice boxes or Burger King Kid's Club at another time.

I liked being in Explosive Bear for several reasons. Firstly, I love music and always wanted badly to create it, but I can't play an instrument. The various sequencers and music programs I came across allowed me to write full orchestrations at my own pace and didn't require me to play them in real-time. Secondly, I hate being serious (which makes this post semi-ironic, thus making me still funny, right?). Well not hate, but I want to make people laugh, and it's hard to do that in a serious band. Plus I would be too embarrassed to be poetic and serious in a live setting. Sorry, Bono. Thirdly, sometimes I want attention (which might explain why I sometimes smash dining ware or play with the fire extinguisher in my apartment). I think it's a genetic thing, because everyone else in my family is ... not cocky ... but definetly highly self-confident. Okay, maybe cocky.

These three criteria ended up being the basis for my excitement about being in Explosive Bear. Unfortunately, my enthusiasm -- at least the last few months -- was not entirely reciprocated. Each week, recently, the signs became more and more obvious that we had taken the joke too seriously. Sure, our arguments were always funny and half-joking, they still resounded. Explosive Bear was no longer funny. At our last show in Reading, at The Silo, we stood in the empty lot behind the venue. We discussed the future of the bear, how we could still go on. Joe made a joke about how he was young Michael Jackson and I was his father forcing him to continue doing something that he didn't enjoy. So that's when I knew it was really over.

The night before that show, having performed two other times that week, Mike and I watched the Refused DVD, "Refused Are Fucking Dead". It chronicled the collapse of the band from the inside, how their guitarist hated it. He did not want to be in it anymore. Their bassist (I think it was the bassist, let's call him that to make it easier) wanted to compromise and cancel the tour, put the band on hiatus and head home to Sweden. Their vocalist, pumped on having released a new album and touring it, did not want it to end. He wanted to continue on, no matter what, even if it was fairly selfish. I thought it was interesting how similar EXB and Refused collapsed, but I bet every band break up is like that. Joe is the guitarist, Mike is the bassist, and I'm Dennis Lyxen, the enthusiastic dude who wants it to keep going.

We aren't going to finish recording "Roy G. Biv" what would be our third album. I'm pretty bummed, but also glad that it's over. In some ways, EXB had become a burden -- kinda like a job that was fun, but you didn't feel obligated to go to. So, my plan is to work on some other music projects. My friend Brendan and I are going to work on a dance-rock group this summer (we might call it Sexplosion ... suggestions/comments being taken), so that should be fun. Also I'll be living with my dawg Paul next year, maybe we can play around with my sequencers and his guitars. So, I'll still have a hobby.

This is also why I don't write journal serious stuff like this. I'll go back to the regular format as soon as I think of some college-student-meets-Larry-David thing to complain or muse about.

R.I.P. 2004-2006

Out on Top

2006-04-27T09:58:00.000-05:00

People can be great at what they do. When you see someone being great at what they do, though, you don't really question it. There's no real sense of urgency -- it's just someone doing something really well. It's not til later, when they're done and will never be doing that thing again, do you realize how truely great they were. How legendary they could end up being. The best way to be remembered as a true legend is to go out while on top. There's a time when you realize that you might not be able to do something for much longer, so you put all your energy into making your final appearance your greatest one yet.

Chuck Norris, for instance, won six consecutive middleweight Karate world championships from 1968 to 1974. He knew that he could only carry on such a title for so long before his old age got the best of him. He retired in 1974 undefeated. Now he is a legend.

Another example... 90s Swedish punk band, Refused. Refused were great at what they did, which was play highly energetic and chaotic hardcore punk. However, interband squabbling was getting the best of them. Musically, they clicked perfectly, but the problem is that when you have too many talented people organized doing the same thing, social or ego problems may arise. People knew they were great at what they did and even thought that their 1998 release of "The Shape of Punk to Come: A Chimerical Bombination in 12 Parts" was terrific. Refused did not become legendary, however, until they broke up while on tour just months after that album was released. Since then, that album has gone from great album to classic album. Refused are now legends.

Finally, the person that I think is the ultimate example of this... Michael Jordan. Michael Jordan, even before he was retired, was recieving labels from some as "the greatest baskeball player ever". He really was great. An hero, even. When he announced that he would retire after the 1998 pro season, many people were saddened by this news. Yeah, sure he was getting a little older than the other players, but he still had that raw talent working for him. Jordan knew better than anyone else that basketball -- as a profession -- was wearing him out and that he wouldn't be as amazing as he was forever. When the Bulls made it to the finals that year, Jordan scroed the game winning -- and championship winning -- shot. Now, Michael Jordan is a legend. Ignore the fact that he kept coming back to the game, that was just out of passion for it, just like how Paul McCartney keeps releasing records.

Watch this:

Where Have All The Singers Gone?

2006-04-24T08:57:00.000-05:00

Over the years of pop music, vocal styles have continued to fade in and out of popularity, but I feel like standards have changed for what makes a "good" frontman or vocalist. I mean, it wasn't that long ago that the entirely uncharismatic idiot Fred Durst was the world's most popular frontman for a band. Now we have people like Chris Martin from Coldplay or that sideburn guy from Fall Out Boy -- both of whom do exactly what frontmen are supposed to do, and they do it well. But a certain something is missing. The vocals for both bands just seem forced and entirely lacking in the true spirit of rock and roll.

John Lennon

Let's go back to 1968 for a moment and take a listen to Van Morrison's album, "Astral Weeks". How come singers don't sing like that anymore? I need my frontmen to be completely obsessed with the music, to be totally in to it. There's a certain -- and absolutely intangible -- notion of "feeling it" for a vocalist. Often it's hard to read how the other, non-vocal band members dig their own music, so the frontman has to serve as the represenative for how much the band is "feeling it".

Isaac Brock
of
Modest Mouse

That being said, Van Morrison is feeling it. His voice is a caterwaul of passion. It doesn't hurt that he can carry a melody either, but the key idea here is that he really digs the music that he plays. You don't have to have a good voice to be feeling it. I don't think that Pixies frontman Frank Black has a terribly good voice -- it's a raspy, shrill howl. However, combined with the Pixies' genre-hopping and an underlying intensity found even in their slow songs, Frank Black is an amazing frontman. One of the best, in fact. His quivering, maniacal "Hope everything is aaaallllri-hi-hi-hi-ight" from "Mr. Grieves" to his brit-punk sneer on "Alec Eiffel", Frank Black is really feeling it.

Kevin Shields
of
My Bloody Valentine

One does not have to be in a particularly great band to be feeling it, either. I honestly believe that the lead singer of Taking Back Sunday is today's best frontman, simply because he really feels what the band is playing. He's almost manic -- crazy and weird even -- which seems to be the only requisite for being a great frontman. Think about it: Mick Jagger, Freddie Mercury, David Lee Roth -- they all posess(ed) a certain aura of secretly being batshit insane (maybe not so secretly for David Lee Roth). Taking Back Sunday won't be remembered for their artistic approaches to music or their total originality -- because they posess none of these things. What they are is a very popular rock band that defines a certain era of rock music. I'm sure I will catch a lot of flack for supporting Taking Back Sunday in any way, but then again maybe some people are just taking rock music to seriously. The fact of the matter is that 1% of the bands revered by Pitchfork will even be thought of 10-15 years from now. Pop trumps art every time, which, in time, makes pop become art. But back to the frontmen.

Marc Paffi
of
Bear vs Shark

It is that insanity-turned-musicality that makes frontmen so great. Some have a calm, beautiful voice, but that craziness is still there (Bradley Nowell). Some have next to no vocal talent, but milk their personality so strongly into their songs that it pays off beautifully (the guy from the Violent Femmes, or better yet -- Cursive). It is ultimately these traits that make great lead singers, it doesn't just stop at being able to carry a tune. You have to be more than a human to be a great frontman. You must be hypermasculine and hyperfeminine at the same time. You must be hypersexy and hyperdispicable. You must be relatable while being completely distant from everyone else. Great frontmen must exist between god and human. The real question is did we put them there, or did they put themselves there?

My vote for top 5 rock frontmen:
1. Freddie Mercury, Queen
2. Mick Jagger, Rolling Stones
3. Frank Black, Pixies
4. David Lee Roth, Van Halen
5. Axl Rose, Guns n Roses

The Rules of Life Vol. I

2006-04-17T12:21:00.000-05:00

If you ever offer someone your hand to shake it, and they don't do anything and just stare at you -- usually a sign of them being A.) a dick B.) a smart-ass C.) all of the above -- then you should be legally allowed to take your open palm and slap them across the face.

This does not apply to you if you are an evil dictator trying to shake the hands of a peasant that you have oppressed, or anything along those lines. But if it's because of an argument, a difference of opinion, or just blind contempt, there is no excuse for not shaking someone's hand. Swallow your pride you asshole!

This was inspired by an episode of "Parental Control" on MTV.

Beaners, Micks, Wops, Kykes, Niggers, & Fags

2006-04-12T09:01:00.000-05:00

The fact that Carlos Mencia's act is racist or prejudiced has nothing to do with why I dislike him. I'm not offended by his use of stereotyping or slurring in his sketches. Generally, I've been attracted to comics who aren't PC. I think South Park is some of the most scathing satire on TV these days, and much of that is owed to clever use of stereotypes and other controversial issues. In fact, Carlos Mencia isn't that offensive because, A.) We know he's joking and B.) We've heard it all before since the dawn of white people meeting not-white people. If Carlos Mencia was not marketed as the "offensive, anti-political correctness" comedian, no one would even consider him that. The commercials show him making a bunch of shocked faces, covering his mouth, and saying things like "Ooh, I shouldn't have said that". Ever notice that they don't cut to the audience looking appalled or upset? That's because no one that watches the Carlos Mencia show gets offended.

What offends me about Mr. Mencia's act is that he's simply not funny. His jokes are easy -- there's no thought behind them. No attempt to make them clever. Once I heard him make a joke about Mexicans leaving pre-Katrina New Orleans in one bus. Haha, Carlos, I'm thankful that you've pointed to my attention that Mexicans squeeze as many of themselves into vehicles as they can. I've never heard that joke before. Certainly I've noticed it, but never ever has anyone ever made a joke about a bunch of Mexicans stuffed in a car.

Maybe if this was the 1950s, Carlos Mencia would be funny. Not only because his material would seem fresher, but also it would be okay to say racist shit all the time. Here is a comic by Nothing Nice To Say creator Mitch Clem. This pretty much sums up Mencia's comedy. The obvious counter to my anti-Mencia tirade is that I'm too uptight or PC. I wouldn't say that I am either, I just like my comedy like I like my coffee -- not shitty. It's almost glaringly obvious that Mencia's show was picked up to fill the Chapelle void. Comedy Central thought they could keep the socially charged comedy torch burning by simply changing the comedian not the format. The problem in doing this is that Dave Chapelle is an outstanding comedian -- everything from his delivery, his writing, to his actual stand-up -- and Carlos Mencia is a third-rate hack that just happened to make all the right moves and know the right people to get his own show.