Bret Easton Ellis, Quentin Tarantino, Terence Trent D'Arby and MC5

Bret Easton Ellis profiles Quentin Tarantino
That's all.

Inside the bizarre world of Terence Trent D'Arby
Remember that guy who sang Wishing Well, that late-80s earworm with the whistling chorus? That's Terence Trent D'Arby. He died when he was 27. And he's alive. And his new name is Sananda Maitreya. And his new record is called Rise of the Zugebrian Time Lords. He also says things like “I’m very confident that my first son is my biological father and it gives me the chance to finally have a relationship with him. My first son is also a continuation of the life that I left behind.”

HELLO WEEKEND! Get pumped up by watching this high-octane live version of MC5's "Kick Out the Jams".
Then contrast with this sludgy version

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Fleetwood Mac, a psychiatrist, toddlers with guns, college football, William F. Buckley and Allen Ginsberg

A great live cover by Haim of Fleetwood Mac's "Oh Well" I got this from Ryan Tucker, and it's awesome.

The story of a psychiatrist who had it all, then lost it, possibly due to frontotemporal dementia. But should he be held accountable for his crimes if they were "caused" by a brain disorder?

If you don't already think we have too many idiots with too many guns, read this. Roughly once a week this year, on average, a small child has found a gun, pointed it at himself or someone else, and pulled the trigger.

A former University of Maryland professor lays out the current disgraceful state of U of M football, and college football in general. His solution: get colleges out of the football business. 

A five-minute conversation between the reptilian William Buckley and Allen Ginsberg. At about the 4:30 mark, Ginsberg notes that police brutality is countenanced because we are not allowed to even us on television the language that the police use in their interactions when brutalizing black people.  I'm not sure I follow the causal logic, but the discussion is certainly still timely 50 years later (Forwarded by John Hagney)

The Globes!!

I saw The Globes last night at the A Club. Holy crap they're good! Their new record comes out at the end of the month, but until then, I HIGHLY suggest you download this EP. Support a Spokane band before they hit the big time--and they WILL hit the big time. Hell, they just played SXSW in Austin, and they're playing Sasquatch in May.

The Decemberists -- Hazards of Love

Just downloaded this--it's the only Decembrists record I like. It's only $5 on Amazon mp3.

Review of "Scott Walker: 30th Century Man"

The trailer for the documentary Scott Walker: 30 Century Man makes it look like a mystery: why did Scott Walker stop making records at the height of his fame? Watch the trailer to see for yourself:



But that's only a small part of the movie. Much of the second half shows Walker's output since 1984, which is a slow procession of progressively more avant-garde music. You know, the type where percussionists punch a side of beef. Where a producer says, "Much of the last year has been taken up looking for the perfect donkey sound."

While I'm no fan of this music, or of this type of music, many people are, and this can be seen by the film's interviews, which have a decidedly English focus: David Bowie (who is also executive producer of the film), Sting, Radiohead, Brian Eno, Jarvis Cocker, Johnny Marr, and others lavish praise on Walker and his music.

As a film it's mediocre. Most of the visuals are talking heads (in one montage, it shows his famous fans' faces while they listen to Walker's records), including many interviews with Walker himself in the modern day, which was a big surprise because, again, this movie was supposed to be about a mysterious recluse. The film also includes much of his music. The early clips show Walker as a young crooning mod, but the visuals accompanying the later experimental songs look like the visualization function on Windows Media Player.

I didn't know about Walker before the film, but I have a pretty good grasp of his career now, so in that sense, the film is a success. However, unlike the way I felt after watching Who is Harry Nilsson (And Why Is Everybody Talkin' About Him)?, I can't say I'm a fan now of either his early pop output or his later atonal output. But I do feel a little more respect for the modern "noise" music purveyed by the likes of Eno.

Hearos are aptly named

I bought a pair of these a few months ago. I have tinnitus pretty bad, so I have to wear earplugs at every live music show. What's annoying, though, is how muffled the sound seems with regular plugs in--it sounds like I'm underwater. So I splurged and bought a pair of $20 ear plugs...and I LOVE them. They don't muffle the sound--they just turn it down. Plus, they're washable and reusable. It's the best $20 I've spent in a long time. They'd make a great stocking stuffer for a live music fan.

How is Keith Richards Still Alive?

"At 66, Keith Richards' continued survival is a source of widespread bafflement.

According to addiction expert Dr Robert Lefever, director of the Promis recovery centre in Richards' native Kent, there is only one possible explanation for his longevity: "He must have the constitution of an ox."

But Richards' own memoirs suggest he may have been more careful with his intake than his bacchanalian public persona implies.

The autobiography, Life, is candid about the scope of his notorious drug-taking during his lengthy career as the Rolling Stones' lead guitarist and co-songwriter.

"I used to walk down Oxford Street with a slab of hash as big as a skateboard," drawls a typical passage.

Richards describes hurtling around swinging London fuelled by speedballs, a cocktail of cocaine and heroin he refers to with his customary louche archness as "the breakfast of champions".

He claims that during the notorious Redlands raid of 1967, he allowed the police into his home in Sussex because he was under the misapprehension, as a result of copious quantities of LSD, that the officers were dwarves "wearing dark blue, with shiny bits and helmets".

And although he gave up heroin in 1978 after being busted five times, he did not finally stop taking cocaine until 2006 after the coconut tree incident required him to undergo brain surgery.

Yet along the way he also managed to have the wherewithal to produce some of the greatest and most memorable rock albums of all time, inspiring generations as both a guitarist and a songwriter."

Excerpted from the BBC News. Read the rest of the story here.

Wilco

I just saw Wilco for the second time. The first time was at Bumbershoot in 2002, and it is one of the two best concerts I've ever seen (the other was a Costello show, also at Bumbershoot in 1996, when he was playing with the Attractions, I think for the last time ever).

This Wilco show (the first time they have ever performed in my fair city), at what locals still prefer to call the Opera House, will not crack the top two, but it was definitely top ten. First of all, they played for two hours, while most modern concerts have a hard time breaking the 1.5 hour barrier. Second, they played a great selection of material--at least one song off each of their albums, I think. Third, they were mixed very well. I could hear every instrument clearly, and the sound was so true that I didn't even need to put in earplugs like I usually have to because of my terrible tinnitus. Fourth, the band was very, very tight. They're just crack musicians, all of them.

The best part about the Wilco show in 2002 is it made me love Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, a record I wasn't fond of at the time. The same happened at this show--because of the concert, I like Sky Blue Sky a lot more now.

In the end, this show solidified my feeling that Wilco is probably the best band working today, and one of my favorite musical acts of all time.

Take a look at the setlist here.

wow

Andrew Bird

I haven't been obsessed by a record like this in a long time.

I joined emusic recently (it's kind of a joke) but I was able to download "Armchair Apocrypha" by Andrew Bird and I can't quit listening to it.

It has a Sufjan Stevens feel (with whistling in almost every song), it's orchestral, but it also has a solid base of roots rock song structure.

It's kind of blowing my mind. I love it.

For one of the more palatable songs, "Heretic," click here.

I Love Fred Armisen

Sinatra

"Only two guys are left who are not the boy next door: Cary Grant and Frank Sinatra." -Sammy Davis Jr.

I bought the The Capitol Years, a 3-CD Sinatra set, while I was going to college in Seattle. I didn't know a song on it. I am not even sure if I had ever actually heard a Sinatra song. Certainly, none of my friends or family liked him. But the case--it looked like it was printed on lilac-colored linen--looked so swanky I just had to buy it.

I didn't know it then, but the Capitol years were the cool years. None of this New York New York/My Way crap. This was jazz. Sinatra had come to this point after being a teen heartthrob to the bobbysoxers. Soon, his star dimmed, and he was washed up by 1950. However, in 1953, fresh off his Oscar-winning performance in "From Here to Eternity," according to Benjamin Schwarz in The Atlantic, the comeback continued when Sinatra

signed with the trendsetting, L.A.-based Capitol Records, a move that afforded him his greatest role: his own musical and stylistic reinvention. The 16 concept albums that followed, his most remarkable achievement and among America’s enduring cultural treasures, defied public taste and redirected it toward what would be known as the Great American Songbook. With his key collaborator, the arranger Nelson Riddle, Sinatra jettisoned the yearning, sweet-voiced crooning of his Columbia years in favor of a richer voice, greater rhythmic invention, and more knowing and conversational phrasing. He had always said that Billie Holiday was his most profound musical influence, and at Capitol, accompanied by Harry Edison, the former trumpeter for Count Basie, he was even more deeply open to jazz influence, as he invested up-tempo songs (which he had rarely performed at Columbia) with a tough, assured swing. For their part, jazz musicians overwhelmingly selected him “the greatest-ever male vocalist” in a 1956 poll, and Lester Young and Miles Davis—never partial to white musicians—ardently praised him.

The transformation was complete. Imagine if Justin Timberlake became as respected as Bob Dylan. That's basically what happened to Sinatra.

Sinatra is an amazing singer. Shwarz calls him "the greatest vocalist in the history of American music," and he shows us why when he notes:

On his hugely popular and artistically glorious Capitol albums, Sinatra expanded and enlivened the repertory of standard American songs (astonishingly, before his recording of it, “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” hadn’t been a significant entry in the Porter catalog) and became its most commanding interpreter. With his clear, relaxed enunciation and sublime phrasing, he also codified the sound and rhythm of casually elegant spoken American English. The seamlessness, ingenuity, and rightness of that phrasing is readily apparent when you try to sing along with him and still can’t foretell his stresses and caesuras in a recording you may have heard a hundred times.

I'm glad to see Sinatra getting his due, not as a kitschy Ratpacker, but as a great singer. At this time of year, as I listen to his Christmas records, I am reminded of how great he really is.

Read the entire article here.

Bad Journalism

I have always been an armchair critic of journalists, especially non-print ones. You know, the ones who ask athletes after they win a championship, "How does it feel to win this?" As if we don't already know the answer to questions like these, or almost all of the questions they ask, for that matter.

The best interviewer in sports journalism, Jim Gray, was pilloried in the press for daring to ask Pete Rose some pointed questions during the All-Star game. I think it's because we're not used to people asking good questions. Generally, I believe that non-print journalists get their jobs because they look or sound good, not because they have any talent at writing, speaking or thinking.

Case in point: This idiot at NPR named Luke Burbank. He posted an interview he did with the Icelandic band Sigur Ros, in which we get to see, in under six minutes, a man slowly die due to a lack of cooperation in his interview subjects. It truly is squirm-inducing to see how terribly this interview goes. Burbank blames the band, but it's entirely Burbank's fault.

I don't know what journalism school Burbank went to, but he must have skipped school the day they taught about open questions. You know, the kind that can't be answered with a yes or a no? I counted the number of questions he asked in the interview, then categorized them.

Number of questions asked: 17

yes/no questions: 12

Number of non-yes/no questions that simply asked an either/or question, not an open question: 3

Total number of questions that could be considered truly open questions: 2

See bad journalism at work here.

The Posture

I found this picture of Woody Guthrie online the other day. I like Woody Guthrie--I don't listen to his music very often, but I like the IDEA of Woody Guthrie. He was a great songwriter and an overall cool guy. I have watched "The Man in the Sand" and I have loved most of the songs (all except the Natalie Merchant ones) on the Wilco/Billy Bragg Mermaid Avenue series. This picture makes him look like a badass--the I-dare-you facial expression, the cigarette, the hot woman behind him drinking a beer--it feels so bohemian, so important.

Ultimately, I think this picture is an emblem of what rock and roll aspired to be--the idea expressed in graffiti, defacing a guitar to tell us the music it emits is deadly to those who wield power irresponsibly. And, ultimately, this is what has become so ridiculous about rock and roll.

How can we listen to protest songs, be they old (Buffalo Springfield) or new (Pearl Jam) without realizing how powerless they are? I must say, though, that there was a time I believed that music could change the world. But experience teaches us otherwise. "Rocking the Vote" has not given us a utopia. In fact, it couldn't even prevent our current fascist-in-chief.

Music is powerful. It soothes us. It provides us comfort and inspiration, but its power is personal, not political.

Radiohead

This may be the best live version of a song I have ever seen.

I had erroneously assumed that a song of such power and complexity had to have been the product of studio mastery. But when I saw this clip, I realized that Radiohead might be the best live band of all time.

This really blew my mind.

Rock

A while back, I was singing the AC/DC song "For Those About to Rock, We Salute You" to myself, when I realized what a weird idea for a song this is. Why are they about to rock? Why are they not in the process of rocking? Shouldn't he wait to salute them until after they are done? What if they are about to rock, but are prevented from rocking? Then you have saluted them for nothing.

This led to a stupid idea. I decided to create the following list.

Rejected preliminary titles for the AC/DC song "For Those About to Rock, We Salute You."

For Those Considering Rocking, We Salute You.

For Those On the Precipice of Rock, We Salute You.

For Those Who Have a Bullet in the Rock Chamber, We Salute You.

For Those With Rock On Their To-do Lists, We Salute You.

For Those About to Flip the Rock Switch (To "On"), We Salute You.

For Those Inadequately Prepared to Rock, We Salute You.

For Those On a Rock Sabbatical, We Salute You.

For Those Contractually Prohibited From Rocking, We Salute You.

For Those a Few Credits Shy of an Associates Degree in Rock, We Salute You.


For Those Whose Rock Plane is Taxiing, We Salute You.


I know there are more good ones out there. Post some in the comments section.

Ryan Adams, SLC

Apparently, the guy is spreading the boredom nationwide.

Read a review from SLC here.

Ryan Adams and the Cardinals, Moore Theater, Seattle, 7/27

Things I Learned I Want In A Concert, Because The Ryan Adams Show Didn't Have It

1. Banter with the audience: Often performers will utter nonsense like "Hello Cleveland" to whip the fans into a frenzy. Other times they will incoherently ramble. Either way, it shows an attempt to connect to the crowd. Adams spoke three times. First, to open the show, when he said it was good to be back. Second, when he mumbled so quietly nobody could hear him. The third time was through a megaphone, and the only word I heard was "haunted." At one point in the show, I leaned over to a friend and said in a stage whisper, "I wonder if he knows we're here."

2. Vertical performances: The band sat on stools for the entire show. Nobody got up once. The band was so low energy, a woman kept yelling between songs, "Show some emotion!!!"

3. Punctuality: This item makes me realize I'm getting old, but if the ticket says the show starts at 8, and if many people line up at 6 because it is open seating, then start the show at 8ish, not at 8:50. I could understand when Guns n Roses came on hours late, but that's because they were using the smelling salts to rouse Slash from a booze-induced coma--that's totally Rock n Roll. Adams is sober. What was so important backstage? Tea?

4. An opening act: Some of the worst bands I've ever seen (ahem...The Divinyls) opened shows. However, opening acts can offer great value to the crowd. Do you want an indelible experience? Have the band quit in midset, and have the drummer flip you off as he walks offstage (ahem...the Divinyls). Opening acts can be boring or terrible, but they rarely fail to underline the quality of the main act.

5. Use of every microphone: The band was set up twenty feet back from the stage, in a line, with Adams second from the left. Way up front, at the lip of the stage, stood a microphone that nobody was using. I wondered when he would use it. Would he come to the front and play a stunning acoustic version of "I See Monsters"? Would he use it when he strapped on the electric to play "So Alive"?

The show ended, and the band had completed their set without using the mic. I knew, I just knew, that the second set/encore would use that mic to totally kick our asses with awesome tunage. Instead, the band calmly reentered the stage, played two more mellow songs, then left. The lights came up immediately.

In the middle of the concert, I asked my friend what he thought the front mic was for. He said it was for the ghost of the old Ryan Adams.

6. Spotlights: I couldn't see anyone's faces, nor would I have been able to tell that Ryan Adams was the featured musician if I hadn't known already. It was atmospheric lighting that emphasized the mellow, Prozaccy mood.

Things I Realized Are Overrated At A Concert Because The Ryan Adams Show Had It And It Was Still Boring

1. Musicianship: The band sounded incredible. They were tight, well mixed, the harmonies were glorious, and the show was ho-hum. They might as well have walked on stage, hooked a CD player to the PA, pressed play, then walked off.

2. Playing my favorite songs: He played many of my favorites. Who cares? They were boring, the set was lifeless. When I saw Wilco five years ago, I rediscovered every song they played as they played it, and each song became subsequently better because of the outstanding performance (that show singlehandedly made "Misunderstood" one of my favorite songs). This show had the opposite effect. I like "Magnolia Mountain" less now, because I can remember how boring it can really sound.

3. Crowd participation: I don't know if I really mean participation; what I really mean is one or two morons in the crowd shouting "WHOOOOOOOOOoooo...." during every quiet part of a song. I'm not joking. Every. Time. Adams finishes a verse? "WHOOOOOOOOOoooo...." Adams pauses in the middle of a verse? "WHOOOOOOOOOoooo...." Adams singing quietly? "WHOOOOOOOOOoooo...." These types of assholes were at the Elvis Costello show two years ago, but Elvis told them to be quiet. Then he walked away from the mic and serenaded us, just him on the acoustic and his unamplified voice, filling the Big Easy with the achingly beautiful "Scarlet Tide." That's what a great musician does. He takes control of the crowd, or at least acknowledges their presence.

Ryan Adams is not dead yet

The NY Times just published a wonderful but lamentably brief profile of the brilliant Ryan Adams. Find it here.

Police Brutality

The singer in the Police jumps like a "petulant pansy," the drummer is making a "complete hash," and who knows what the guitarist is doing?

Notes from a bitter critic? Actually, it's a disarmingly frank concert review from the aforementioned drummer of the newly reunited rock trio.

A philosophical Stewart Copeland unleashed his vitriol in a posting on his Web site on Thursday, a day after the band played its second show in Vancouver, the Canadian city where it began its first world tour in more than 20 years on Monday.

"This is unbelievably lame," Copeland wrote of Wednesday's show at the GM Place arena. "We are the mighty Police and we are totally at sea."

Most of the 20,000 fans at the venue might not have noticed a series of small flubs, but Copeland, singer/bassist Sting, and guitarist were painfully aware of them.

Copeland started the show off on the wrong foot, literally. He tripped as he took to the stage, and then banged his gong at the wrong time so that "the big pompous opening to the show is a damp squib."

He did not hear Summers' opening riff to "Message In a Bottle," and Sting in turn misheard Copeland's drum intro -- "so we are half a bar out of sync with each other. Andy is in Idaho."

They quickly recovered, but then Sting got his footwork wrong as he leapt into the air to signal the end to a shambolic version of their rat-race rant "Synchronicity II."

"The mighty Sting momentarily looks like a petulant pansy instead of the god of rock," Copeland reported.

"And so it goes, for song after song," he wrote, with tunes such as "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" and "Don't Stand So Close To Me" reduced to ruin.

"It usually takes about four or five shows in a tour before you get to the disaster gig. But we're The Police so we are a little ahead of schedule," he said.

I'm less concerned that Stewart Copeland is so critical of the Police's recent shows than I am with his predilection for the word "mighty."

The story is here.