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(07/14/05 4:00am)
Since 1997, Missy Elliott and her production collaborator/romantic partner Timbaland have crafted some of the most daring and adventurous hip-hop to be found on this or any planet. 2003's This is Not a Test drew criticisms that, for the first time in their colorful career, Missy and Tim had fallen into a holding pattern creatively. Her latest, The Cookbook, does its damndest to assuage those fears, and surprisingly, sees Timbaland mostly purged from the mix.\nMissy spoils her fans from the get-go with back-to-back Timbaland tracks (the only two on the album), "Joy," and "Party Time," which establish an almost impossible-to-sustain groove that's awkwardly interrupted with an old-school Slick Rick guest spot. The album's preeminent single, "Lose Control," is everything a Missy single should be, with an unrelenting and obsessively catchy loop-beat that you'd swear was 100% Timbaland if Missy didn't insist she produced the track herself.\nOnce the waves from "Lose Control" subside, "My Struggles" rescues what would otherwise be a throwaway track with a solid vocal hook in the chorus, and "Click Clack" brings back the fuzzbox beat and re-energizes the record before the Neptunes break every rule in the book with "On & On." With its horrorshow organ and brain-busting blip-beat, one exits Pharrell's carnival ride with a serious contact high and wishes that more hip-hop artists would aspire to such heights. From that point, the insistent breakdown of "Can't Stop" and the closing drumline stomper "Bad Men" (featuring a cameo from rap's next big thing, M.I.A.) are mere icing on a reduced-fat cake that Timbaland's presence would have added some extra meat to.\nAs is always the case, the doldrums of Missy's albums occur when she veers sharply from edgy rhymes and bubbly beats to middling R&B crooning. The Cookbook sees this formula hold true once again, with tracks like "Teary Eyed," "Remember When," "Time & Time Again," and "4 My Man" riding a relinquished shotgun to the club rockin' numbers. Missy's only curious misstep with her new record was leaving Timbaland on the sidelines after the second track, because aside from Cookbook's few stunning singles (which Tim didn't produce), the unique force that created some of the most innovative rap tunes of the last eight years ("The Rain," "Beat Biters," "Get Ur Freak On" and "Work It" just to name a few) is sorely missed.\nRegardless, The Cookbook holds up sufficiently well enough to make it the most exciting new hip-hop record out right now, and that's what Missy has always prided herself on: being able to top half of all other rappers with her audacity alone, and most of the other half with her trippy, futuristic beats.
(07/14/05 1:08am)
Since 1997, Missy Elliott and her production collaborator/romantic partner Timbaland have crafted some of the most daring and adventurous hip-hop to be found on this or any planet. 2003's This is Not a Test drew criticisms that, for the first time in their colorful career, Missy and Tim had fallen into a holding pattern creatively. Her latest, The Cookbook, does its damndest to assuage those fears, and surprisingly, sees Timbaland mostly purged from the mix.\nMissy spoils her fans from the get-go with back-to-back Timbaland tracks (the only two on the album), "Joy," and "Party Time," which establish an almost impossible-to-sustain groove that's awkwardly interrupted with an old-school Slick Rick guest spot. The album's preeminent single, "Lose Control," is everything a Missy single should be, with an unrelenting and obsessively catchy loop-beat that you'd swear was 100% Timbaland if Missy didn't insist she produced the track herself.\nOnce the waves from "Lose Control" subside, "My Struggles" rescues what would otherwise be a throwaway track with a solid vocal hook in the chorus, and "Click Clack" brings back the fuzzbox beat and re-energizes the record before the Neptunes break every rule in the book with "On & On." With its horrorshow organ and brain-busting blip-beat, one exits Pharrell's carnival ride with a serious contact high and wishes that more hip-hop artists would aspire to such heights. From that point, the insistent breakdown of "Can't Stop" and the closing drumline stomper "Bad Men" (featuring a cameo from rap's next big thing, M.I.A.) are mere icing on a reduced-fat cake that Timbaland's presence would have added some extra meat to.\nAs is always the case, the doldrums of Missy's albums occur when she veers sharply from edgy rhymes and bubbly beats to middling R&B crooning. The Cookbook sees this formula hold true once again, with tracks like "Teary Eyed," "Remember When," "Time & Time Again," and "4 My Man" riding a relinquished shotgun to the club rockin' numbers. Missy's only curious misstep with her new record was leaving Timbaland on the sidelines after the second track, because aside from Cookbook's few stunning singles (which Tim didn't produce), the unique force that created some of the most innovative rap tunes of the last eight years ("The Rain," "Beat Biters," "Get Ur Freak On" and "Work It" just to name a few) is sorely missed.\nRegardless, The Cookbook holds up sufficiently well enough to make it the most exciting new hip-hop record out right now, and that's what Missy has always prided herself on: being able to top half of all other rappers with her audacity alone, and most of the other half with her trippy, futuristic beats.
(07/07/05 4:00am)
For the past two-and-a-half years or so, the more left-leaning among us have found solace in the weekday evening pseudo-newscasts of Jon Stewart and his Daily Show crew. Professed liberals all, Stewart and his crew are equal opportunity offenders, even though it's usually obvious which way the studio audience sways (hissing at conservative guests and applauding left-wingers). When it came to the 2004 presidential election, no one knew quite how the Daily Show would cover it. It didn't take long to realize that the shows often-brilliant, sometimes-maddeningly smarmy humor would carry over to this most critical of contests.\nAs the primaries unfolded and the debates were had, it became clear that the Daily Show writers were treating the election like the circus it could easily be perceived as. When John Edwards announced his vice-presidential candidacy in-person on the show, the crowd seemed not sure how to react, most likely because Stewart refused to budge in showing clear support to either side. Despite repeated failed attempts to get Bush cabinet members (John Kerry made multiple appearances) and other notable Republicans on the show (they felt it wasn't their core audience -- and were correct), Stewart and company kept sarcastically mum over their support for either candidate, an offense that any other time in the show's history would come off as coyly amusing, but in this instance seemed suspicious.\nNo matter, since in hindsight the Daily Show's coverage can be appreciated for what it was meant to be; a satirical take on an otherwise monumental event. Stewart's mean-spirited ribbing of both candidates was a refreshing respite from the Bush-loving Fox News Channel and Kerry-supporting CNN, which I suppose is one valid argument for keeping it on the level. Segments from correspondents Rob Corddry, Samantha Bee, Steven Colbert and Ed Helms are mostly on-point, and usually side-splitting.\nExtras on this three-disc affair include commentary by Corddry, Helms and Bee on many segments, hilarious unaired fake-527 ads including Continental Skiff Boat Oarsmen for Veracity, and Steve Carell's mostly awkward take on the rise and fall of the Howard Dean campaign. Also included are extended segments on the Presidential debates, Democratic and Republican conventions and bonus footage from their live election night coverage, "Prelude to a Recount." Also, don't miss the National Anthem sung in four-correspondent harmony.\nOnce the final tallies were counted and Bush had been declared the victor once again, the Daily Show's Election 2004 coverage took on a more somber tone. It's as if the correspondents realized what a great opportunity they had to influence their core audience, and saw that opportunity squandered. Then again, maybe they never took the election seriously at all, and maybe that was the point all along.
(07/07/05 12:34am)
For the past two-and-a-half years or so, the more left-leaning among us have found solace in the weekday evening pseudo-newscasts of Jon Stewart and his Daily Show crew. Professed liberals all, Stewart and his crew are equal opportunity offenders, even though it's usually obvious which way the studio audience sways (hissing at conservative guests and applauding left-wingers). When it came to the 2004 presidential election, no one knew quite how the Daily Show would cover it. It didn't take long to realize that the shows often-brilliant, sometimes-maddeningly smarmy humor would carry over to this most critical of contests.\nAs the primaries unfolded and the debates were had, it became clear that the Daily Show writers were treating the election like the circus it could easily be perceived as. When John Edwards announced his vice-presidential candidacy in-person on the show, the crowd seemed not sure how to react, most likely because Stewart refused to budge in showing clear support to either side. Despite repeated failed attempts to get Bush cabinet members (John Kerry made multiple appearances) and other notable Republicans on the show (they felt it wasn't their core audience -- and were correct), Stewart and company kept sarcastically mum over their support for either candidate, an offense that any other time in the show's history would come off as coyly amusing, but in this instance seemed suspicious.\nNo matter, since in hindsight the Daily Show's coverage can be appreciated for what it was meant to be; a satirical take on an otherwise monumental event. Stewart's mean-spirited ribbing of both candidates was a refreshing respite from the Bush-loving Fox News Channel and Kerry-supporting CNN, which I suppose is one valid argument for keeping it on the level. Segments from correspondents Rob Corddry, Samantha Bee, Steven Colbert and Ed Helms are mostly on-point, and usually side-splitting.\nExtras on this three-disc affair include commentary by Corddry, Helms and Bee on many segments, hilarious unaired fake-527 ads including Continental Skiff Boat Oarsmen for Veracity, and Steve Carell's mostly awkward take on the rise and fall of the Howard Dean campaign. Also included are extended segments on the Presidential debates, Democratic and Republican conventions and bonus footage from their live election night coverage, "Prelude to a Recount." Also, don't miss the National Anthem sung in four-correspondent harmony.\nOnce the final tallies were counted and Bush had been declared the victor once again, the Daily Show's Election 2004 coverage took on a more somber tone. It's as if the correspondents realized what a great opportunity they had to influence their core audience, and saw that opportunity squandered. Then again, maybe they never took the election seriously at all, and maybe that was the point all along.
(06/30/05 4:00am)
George Romero invented the modern zombie film (and some say modern horror cinema) with "Night of the Living Dead" in 1968 -- a classic that packed just as many visceral scares as it did volleys of social commentary on relationships between different races and sexes. In 1978, he fashioned a barbed, zombie-filled critique of American consumer culture with "Dawn of the Dead," and in 1985 he took on unfounded Cold War paranoia with "Day of the Dead." With "Land of the Dead," Romero has once again concocted a gore fest specifically for the age in which we live.\nDuring the opening titles, we learn that the dead rose "some time ago," and soon we find out how the people of one particular unnamed city have learned to deal with the zombie menace. A rigid class system has been set up, with the rich taking shelter in a massive skyscraper known as Fiddler's Green, and run by the merciless Kaufman (Dennis Hopper, in typical creep-out mode). Meanwhile, the middle and lower classes live in the streets, though safely protected by water, electric fence and Kaufman's own personal army. It doesn't take long for Kaufman's designs on "zombieworld" domination to fall apart, and when the flesh-eaters storm the city, Romero and his team of makeup wizards and computer FX men go to town on the pitiful population.\nNever before have we rooted for the undead as we do in "Land," and it's not only because they've acquired rudimentary problem-solving skills, but because the residents of Fiddler's Green are so smug about living so comfortably amidst the horrors going on outside their field of vision. Parallels to the class and political systems in our own society are unmistakable, and with Romero at the helm, almost certainly intentional. Of course we have our heroes in Riley (a stoic Simon Baker), Cholo (a fired-up John Leguizamo), Slack (an adorable Asia Argento) and Charlie (veteran character actor Robert Joy), yet we find ourselves rooting for the zombies, because the world is clearly theirs now. \nAs for the violence, it's brutal a majority of the time, and it seems the only way "Land" was granted an R rating was because most of the gore takes place at nighttime or in the shadows. The shock level still doesn't rise to the grand heights it did in "Dawn" or "Day" either because those films were debuted to a much less desensitized audience, or because back in the day, when he wasn't under the control of a major studio such as Universal, Romero felt freer to languish an extra few seconds on the visceral reaction of his victims being eaten alive. Regardless, "Land's" level of violence may still surprise those who are under the illusion that today's cookie cutter horror/popcorn flicks are actually violent in the least.\nDoes Romero's latest vision of a post-apocalyptic world live up to his previous outings with the genre he created? It certainly surpasses "Day of the Dead." It outdoes "Night of the Living Dead" from a sheer visual and fright standpoint, even if it can never live up to "Night's" historical importance. And while "Dawn of the Dead" will most likely forever remain Romero's personal Mona Lisa, "Land of the Dead" is miles ahead of most horror flicks the major studios are churning out these days, as it boasts Romero at the top of his game once more.
(06/30/05 12:41am)
George Romero invented the modern zombie film (and some say modern horror cinema) with "Night of the Living Dead" in 1968 -- a classic that packed just as many visceral scares as it did volleys of social commentary on relationships between different races and sexes. In 1978, he fashioned a barbed, zombie-filled critique of American consumer culture with "Dawn of the Dead," and in 1985 he took on unfounded Cold War paranoia with "Day of the Dead." With "Land of the Dead," Romero has once again concocted a gore fest specifically for the age in which we live.\nDuring the opening titles, we learn that the dead rose "some time ago," and soon we find out how the people of one particular unnamed city have learned to deal with the zombie menace. A rigid class system has been set up, with the rich taking shelter in a massive skyscraper known as Fiddler's Green, and run by the merciless Kaufman (Dennis Hopper, in typical creep-out mode). Meanwhile, the middle and lower classes live in the streets, though safely protected by water, electric fence and Kaufman's own personal army. It doesn't take long for Kaufman's designs on "zombieworld" domination to fall apart, and when the flesh-eaters storm the city, Romero and his team of makeup wizards and computer FX men go to town on the pitiful population.\nNever before have we rooted for the undead as we do in "Land," and it's not only because they've acquired rudimentary problem-solving skills, but because the residents of Fiddler's Green are so smug about living so comfortably amidst the horrors going on outside their field of vision. Parallels to the class and political systems in our own society are unmistakable, and with Romero at the helm, almost certainly intentional. Of course we have our heroes in Riley (a stoic Simon Baker), Cholo (a fired-up John Leguizamo), Slack (an adorable Asia Argento) and Charlie (veteran character actor Robert Joy), yet we find ourselves rooting for the zombies, because the world is clearly theirs now. \nAs for the violence, it's brutal a majority of the time, and it seems the only way "Land" was granted an R rating was because most of the gore takes place at nighttime or in the shadows. The shock level still doesn't rise to the grand heights it did in "Dawn" or "Day" either because those films were debuted to a much less desensitized audience, or because back in the day, when he wasn't under the control of a major studio such as Universal, Romero felt freer to languish an extra few seconds on the visceral reaction of his victims being eaten alive. Regardless, "Land's" level of violence may still surprise those who are under the illusion that today's cookie cutter horror/popcorn flicks are actually violent in the least.\nDoes Romero's latest vision of a post-apocalyptic world live up to his previous outings with the genre he created? It certainly surpasses "Day of the Dead." It outdoes "Night of the Living Dead" from a sheer visual and fright standpoint, even if it can never live up to "Night's" historical importance. And while "Dawn of the Dead" will most likely forever remain Romero's personal Mona Lisa, "Land of the Dead" is miles ahead of most horror flicks the major studios are churning out these days, as it boasts Romero at the top of his game once more.
(06/23/05 4:00am)
Steven Spielberg was 27 years old when he made "Jaws." He was hired on pure faith by the producers, and not since someone put Alexander the Great in charge have the top brass possessed keener foresight. Alexander was nothing if not a populist, and one who knew how to spin straw into gold with the best of them. Spielberg is not much different, conquering the film world with equal grace, all the while making films the people want to see (and never cheapening the final product in the process). Back in the day and with a shoestring budget, he made a film about a killer shark terrorizing a tiny New England town, a seemingly insurmountable task on paper, into an enduring piece of pop cinema that's shown at least 10 times a week on television to this day.\n"Jaws," released initially in 1975, ended up becoming the first honest summer blockbuster movie, and while that whole overhyped genre has fed the public some real stinkers in the last three decades, Spielberg should be given honest credit for making many studio execs feel a little less shaky about bankrolling projects helmed by virtual unknowns. As is made painfully clear throughout the extras in this set, "Jaws" was a serious bitch to make, and production was almost shut down on many occasions, making the eventual outcome of the film as a modern masterpiece all the more amazing.\nThose who already own the 25th Anniversary one-disc of "Jaws" need not feel that Universal has unleashed the film again just to boost cash flow. Despite containing the majority of the same features as the 25th Anniv., this new set includes a two-hour never-before-seen-in-its-entirety making of the film doc, featuring unearthed interviews with the notoriously tight-lipped Spielberg (who, I am convinced, will never record a commentary track). Also bundled with the set is a commemorative 60-page photo journal, and, for the first time on disc, the original theatrical mono audio track which stays true to the first-run sound of the film, and finds John Williams' iconic orchestral score at its nightmarish best.\nThirty summers after "Jaws" made its initial splash, Spielberg is poised to overtake the national consciousness again, this time by way of the malicious aliens of "War of the Worlds." In the doc on disc two of this set, the director reminisces "When I first hear the word Jaws, I think of a period in my life when I was much younger... and I think because I was younger, I was more courageous, or I was more stupid. I'm not sure which." It would be the first major success in a storied career filled with courageous decisions and unforgettable images.
(06/16/05 4:00am)
It's a testament to his relative power that Jack White packs more of a punch on his own than most three, four or five-piece bands can muster. Now before any of you ladies get testy, I realize Meg is ever-present, but let's face it, she bangs away at her cymbals and skins like an impatient kid who missed a Ritalin dose. Jack knows he got soul, and we all know it, too.\nMost people figured that the White Stripes had to have peaked with 2003's Elephant, a record that made everything else out at the time seem fairly irrelevant and rocked pretty hard to boot. Little did those people know that the duo was still making its way up the mountain, the peak just barely out of sight. Get Behind Me Satan is not the sound of a band trying to top their last release. It is the sound of a band (a man) making a conscious decision to self-evolve their (his) songwriting far enough ahead as to sit the trusty guitar by the bedside table and hunker down at a piano; waiting to see what flowed forth.\nWhile their past albums have mostly showcased Jack's prowess as a guitar virtuoso and faux-bluesman, Satan introduces Jack the saloon piano man, Jack the bluegrass balladeer, and even Jack at his rawest, which just happens to be, on tracks like "White Moon" and "As Ugly As I Seem," virtually alone aside from light percussion, expectorating his inner emotions. We've not seen the typically guarded Jack bare his soul like this before, and the result is quietly jaw-dropping.\nThe influence of his 2003 sessions producing and writing for Loretta Lynn are evident on "Little Ghost," a straightforward bluegrass track that makes the entire "O Brother" soundtrack seem weak, and "Take, Take, Take" as well as "Red Rain," two of the best tracks the Stripes have ever laid down which manage to take full advantage of the studio while still seeming refreshingly underproduced. "My Doorbell" and "The Nurse" are unlike anything the duo has recorded before, and we're all the better for it, because when the closer, "I'm Lonely (But I Ain't That Lonely Yet)" happens upon us, we're not quite so amazed that Jack can plow us to the ground with nothing more his own voice and a piano.\nIt's hard for me to imagine the White Stripes releasing another record as accomplished and engrossing than Get Behind Me Satan, but I suppose I said that same thing when Elephant came out 26 months ago. If I've learned anything, it's not to underestimate Jack White's seemingly effortless ability to exceed my expectations. Anyone who was paying the least bit of attention knew he had it in him from the first notes of De Stijl. For the time being, Get Behind Me Satan will stand as a succinct testament to the undeniable musical capacity of the Stripes, until their next record retools the wheel brilliantly once again.
(06/16/05 4:00am)
At the end of season four of HBO's mob drama "The Sopranos," Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini) was kicked out of his home, his beloved uncle was slowly but surely losing his mental capacity and the tension between the New Jersey and New York mob families was at an all-time high. It was perhaps Tony's lowest moment since his mother tried to have him killed at the end of season one.\nSeason five opens with Tony attempting to secure a new love in his life (other than art dealer/goomah Valentina) by telling his longtime therapist, Dr. Melfi (Lorraine Bracco), that there are two sides to him; the business side and the personal side. Just as she fails to buy it, he's instantly preoccupied with the Class of 2004. This group of mobsters, recently released from prison after more than 15 years, is the critical axle on which season five turns.\nThis season, more than most, is filled with a glut of dramatic character arcs which leave longtime fans breathless. Christopher (Michael Imperioli) battles his addictions and insecurities throughout, and Adriana (Drea DeMatteo) rides her tragic turn as an FBI informant down the barrel of a gun. Both were finally awarded much-deserved Emmys for their work. Uncle Junior's mental problems are diagnosed, and Dominic Chianese offers some of the season's finest acting because of it. Steve Buscemi also joins the cast as Tony's cousin, Tony Blundetto, and expertly fills the void left by Joe Pantoliano's Ralph Cifaretto as the agita keeping Tony on his toes.\nA modest portion of the series' most ardent devotees criticized season five for being in more of a minor key than past installments, but these 13 episodes still play out in the same operatic fashion as all previous seasons, even if the body count and blood volume (while still quite high) don't live up to the likes of past seasons. Gandolfini and Falco's interactions are some of the most volatile in the series' history, and the vibrant soundtrack, as well as the sepia tones and dark shadows highlighted in the cinematography are as gorgeous as ever.\nSeason seven debuts on HBO in early 2006, and despite Tony's domestic family's relative level of comfort at this season's end, the volatility between the New York and New Jersey families, as well as the fallout over the disappearance of one of the series' most conflicted characters, will assure the next (and very possibly final) season starts off on a high note and doesn't let up.
(06/16/05 2:39am)
At the end of season four of HBO's mob drama "The Sopranos," Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini) was kicked out of his home, his beloved uncle was slowly but surely losing his mental capacity and the tension between the New Jersey and New York mob families was at an all-time high. It was perhaps Tony's lowest moment since his mother tried to have him killed at the end of season one.\nSeason five opens with Tony attempting to secure a new love in his life (other than art dealer/goomah Valentina) by telling his longtime therapist, Dr. Melfi (Lorraine Bracco), that there are two sides to him; the business side and the personal side. Just as she fails to buy it, he's instantly preoccupied with the Class of 2004. This group of mobsters, recently released from prison after more than 15 years, is the critical axle on which season five turns.\nThis season, more than most, is filled with a glut of dramatic character arcs which leave longtime fans breathless. Christopher (Michael Imperioli) battles his addictions and insecurities throughout, and Adriana (Drea DeMatteo) rides her tragic turn as an FBI informant down the barrel of a gun. Both were finally awarded much-deserved Emmys for their work. Uncle Junior's mental problems are diagnosed, and Dominic Chianese offers some of the season's finest acting because of it. Steve Buscemi also joins the cast as Tony's cousin, Tony Blundetto, and expertly fills the void left by Joe Pantoliano's Ralph Cifaretto as the agita keeping Tony on his toes.\nA modest portion of the series' most ardent devotees criticized season five for being in more of a minor key than past installments, but these 13 episodes still play out in the same operatic fashion as all previous seasons, even if the body count and blood volume (while still quite high) don't live up to the likes of past seasons. Gandolfini and Falco's interactions are some of the most volatile in the series' history, and the vibrant soundtrack, as well as the sepia tones and dark shadows highlighted in the cinematography are as gorgeous as ever.\nSeason seven debuts on HBO in early 2006, and despite Tony's domestic family's relative level of comfort at this season's end, the volatility between the New York and New Jersey families, as well as the fallout over the disappearance of one of the series' most conflicted characters, will assure the next (and very possibly final) season starts off on a high note and doesn't let up.
(06/16/05 2:02am)
It's a testament to his relative power that Jack White packs more of a punch on his own than most three, four or five-piece bands can muster. Now before any of you ladies get testy, I realize Meg is ever-present, but let's face it, she bangs away at her cymbals and skins like an impatient kid who missed a Ritalin dose. Jack knows he got soul, and we all know it, too.\nMost people figured that the White Stripes had to have peaked with 2003's Elephant, a record that made everything else out at the time seem fairly irrelevant and rocked pretty hard to boot. Little did those people know that the duo was still making its way up the mountain, the peak just barely out of sight. Get Behind Me Satan is not the sound of a band trying to top their last release. It is the sound of a band (a man) making a conscious decision to self-evolve their (his) songwriting far enough ahead as to sit the trusty guitar by the bedside table and hunker down at a piano; waiting to see what flowed forth.\nWhile their past albums have mostly showcased Jack's prowess as a guitar virtuoso and faux-bluesman, Satan introduces Jack the saloon piano man, Jack the bluegrass balladeer, and even Jack at his rawest, which just happens to be, on tracks like "White Moon" and "As Ugly As I Seem," virtually alone aside from light percussion, expectorating his inner emotions. We've not seen the typically guarded Jack bare his soul like this before, and the result is quietly jaw-dropping.\nThe influence of his 2003 sessions producing and writing for Loretta Lynn are evident on "Little Ghost," a straightforward bluegrass track that makes the entire "O Brother" soundtrack seem weak, and "Take, Take, Take" as well as "Red Rain," two of the best tracks the Stripes have ever laid down which manage to take full advantage of the studio while still seeming refreshingly underproduced. "My Doorbell" and "The Nurse" are unlike anything the duo has recorded before, and we're all the better for it, because when the closer, "I'm Lonely (But I Ain't That Lonely Yet)" happens upon us, we're not quite so amazed that Jack can plow us to the ground with nothing more his own voice and a piano.\nIt's hard for me to imagine the White Stripes releasing another record as accomplished and engrossing than Get Behind Me Satan, but I suppose I said that same thing when Elephant came out 26 months ago. If I've learned anything, it's not to underestimate Jack White's seemingly effortless ability to exceed my expectations. Anyone who was paying the least bit of attention knew he had it in him from the first notes of De Stijl. For the time being, Get Behind Me Satan will stand as a succinct testament to the undeniable musical capacity of the Stripes, until their next record retools the wheel brilliantly once again.
(06/09/05 4:00am)
Will someone please grab that rusty, Jesus-juiced crown off of Michael Jackson's head, polish it up 'til it gleams, and crown Chris Martin the new king of pop?\nParachutes, Coldplay's modest 2000 debut, introduced the world to Martin and company via "Yellow," a track that, sadly, managed to find its way onto a Now That's What I Call Music compilation. Their follow-up, A Rush of Blood to the Head, was a veritable rock and roll hymnal full of stirring melodies and sing-along choruses. One had to assume, after marrying Gwyneth Paltrow, naming his daughter Apple and spending 18 months in the studio obsessing over his band's third album, Martin was in full put-up-or-shut-up mode. One would be correct in that assumption.\nOriginally conceived as an experimental record that would nudge Coldplay's sound over the precipice and into uncharted waters, X&Y was retooled sometime during the 11th hour, to the delight and chagrin of equal numbers, to more resemble the band's core sound. There's no doubt that the original sessions will never surface, but what we're left with, and where we should've known Coldplay was heading all along, is a solid, unyielding hour of masterful songcraft overflowing with that signature sentiment that fuelled the likes of "Warning Sign" and "The Scientist" on Rush of Blood. Anyone who damns Coldplay for sounding too much like themselves isn't likely to tune into this one anyway.\nX&Y begins, appropriately, with "Square One," on which Coldplay channel Unforgettable Fire-era U2 and The Bends-era Radiohead with equal aplomb. Immediately post-launch, it becomes clear that Martin's songwriting has improved over time. "What If" and "White Shadows" are two of the year's most well-crafted pop tracks, and then he hits us with the record's first true stunner. "Fix You" starts off rather inconspicuously as a simple, organ-driven love ditty, until the 2:35 mark when the floodgates open, spilling out layer upon layer of guitar, synth and strings, a choir shows up to the party, and Coldplay justify the hype while rendering it obliquely appropriate that the stock market is gonna spike just because of this album.\nIt's not all anthemic elegies and arm-waving middle-eights, though. With its honest feel and accessible lyrics, "A Message" will end up on every respectable lovey-dovey mix cd this summer. The preordained hits "Speed of Sound" and "Talk" are better than anything else MTV and rock radio are currently running into the ground, and "Swallowed By the Sea" as well as the album closer "'Til Kingdom Come" are old-fashioned ballads that prove even without a wall of sound backing him up, Martin can deliver a wondrous tune. He even gets vaguely political on "Twisted Logic," but never to the point of wearing out the message.\nThe question is always asked of the world's biggest bands; where do they go from here? While Martin has made overtly public statements that he's so satisfied with this record that he wouldn't mind too terribly if it were Coldplay's last, I'm forced to assume that he and the rest of the band still have their own personal OK Computer/Joshua Tree stored away in the deepest regions of their brains. It may be years before we find out, but in the meantime, X&Y is a hell of a listen.
(06/09/05 12:15am)
Will someone please grab that rusty, Jesus-juiced crown off of Michael Jackson's head, polish it up 'til it gleams, and crown Chris Martin the new king of pop?\nParachutes, Coldplay's modest 2000 debut, introduced the world to Martin and company via "Yellow," a track that, sadly, managed to find its way onto a Now That's What I Call Music compilation. Their follow-up, A Rush of Blood to the Head, was a veritable rock and roll hymnal full of stirring melodies and sing-along choruses. One had to assume, after marrying Gwyneth Paltrow, naming his daughter Apple and spending 18 months in the studio obsessing over his band's third album, Martin was in full put-up-or-shut-up mode. One would be correct in that assumption.\nOriginally conceived as an experimental record that would nudge Coldplay's sound over the precipice and into uncharted waters, X&Y was retooled sometime during the 11th hour, to the delight and chagrin of equal numbers, to more resemble the band's core sound. There's no doubt that the original sessions will never surface, but what we're left with, and where we should've known Coldplay was heading all along, is a solid, unyielding hour of masterful songcraft overflowing with that signature sentiment that fuelled the likes of "Warning Sign" and "The Scientist" on Rush of Blood. Anyone who damns Coldplay for sounding too much like themselves isn't likely to tune into this one anyway.\nX&Y begins, appropriately, with "Square One," on which Coldplay channel Unforgettable Fire-era U2 and The Bends-era Radiohead with equal aplomb. Immediately post-launch, it becomes clear that Martin's songwriting has improved over time. "What If" and "White Shadows" are two of the year's most well-crafted pop tracks, and then he hits us with the record's first true stunner. "Fix You" starts off rather inconspicuously as a simple, organ-driven love ditty, until the 2:35 mark when the floodgates open, spilling out layer upon layer of guitar, synth and strings, a choir shows up to the party, and Coldplay justify the hype while rendering it obliquely appropriate that the stock market is gonna spike just because of this album.\nIt's not all anthemic elegies and arm-waving middle-eights, though. With its honest feel and accessible lyrics, "A Message" will end up on every respectable lovey-dovey mix cd this summer. The preordained hits "Speed of Sound" and "Talk" are better than anything else MTV and rock radio are currently running into the ground, and "Swallowed By the Sea" as well as the album closer "'Til Kingdom Come" are old-fashioned ballads that prove even without a wall of sound backing him up, Martin can deliver a wondrous tune. He even gets vaguely political on "Twisted Logic," but never to the point of wearing out the message.\nThe question is always asked of the world's biggest bands; where do they go from here? While Martin has made overtly public statements that he's so satisfied with this record that he wouldn't mind too terribly if it were Coldplay's last, I'm forced to assume that he and the rest of the band still have their own personal OK Computer/Joshua Tree stored away in the deepest regions of their brains. It may be years before we find out, but in the meantime, X&Y is a hell of a listen.
(06/02/05 4:00am)
n 2001, Blur's Damon Albarn realized his own band was stagnating, and decided to strike up a side project complete with cartoon mascots, a wealth of guest artists and one very inventive producer in Dan the Automator. Gorillaz, as both the album and group were known, mashed up subversively funky beats and dub-bass with mostly dispassionate and disconnected vocals, and spawned a hit ("Clint Eastwood") which actually helped the album go six times platinum. Along with other tracks like "Tomorrow Comes Today" and "Slow Country," Gorillaz proved itself to be worth more of Albarn's time than Blur, given Blur had been fizzling out ever since "Song 2" was at its "woo-hoo" peak on the charts.\nThe success of Gorillaz's debut album obviously influenced Albarn to continue the whole affair, eschewing Dan the Automator from the boards in favor of Danger Mouse, one of the hottest free-agent underground producers. Danger Mouse's presence can be felt all over the album by way of the same slow-to-mid-tempo flair he brought to last year's brilliant, copyright-busting Grey Album which mutated Jay-Z's Black Album and The Beatles' White Album into a blissful stew of pop/rap convergence.\nIn fact, other than guitar, and of course vocal stylings (still as dispassionate as ever, despite going all Chris Martin on part of "Last Living Souls"), Albarn is virtually unrecognizable on Demon Days. The songs have a decidedly more playful feel that those on Gorillaz, despite the dark, topical subject matter found throughout, but even casual listeners should credit Danger Mouse for how 90% of Demon Days casually slips its way out of their speakers. This is a record for the sort of parties where everyone sits around on the couch discussing the philosophy of Kant, yet it still works, for the most part. Keep a close eye on Danger Mouse in the future. He could blow us all away if he ever decides to release a major-label solo disc.\nGuest artist wise, Gorillaz's debut relied on virtual unknowns who brought their own personal sense of style to the sessions. Demon Days finds Albarn taking a more-traveled road in terms of guest spots. From the opening notes of the album featuring Dario Argento's "Dawn of the Dead" score, to guest raps by De La Soul, Roots Manuva and MF Doom, backing vocals by Neneh Cherry, spoken-word by an all-too-calm Dennis Hooper, and even a piano solo by Ike Turner himself on "Every Planet We Reach Is Dead," Demon Days manages to shift musical tone from track to track while still holding onto a generally haunted sound.\nDemon Days is more a showcase for Danger Mouse's ability to reign in a 15-track disc and make it gel than it is a quasi-testament to Damon Albarn's prowess as some sort of creative force. Gorillaz' debut was ultimately more immediately accessible than Demon Days (which reveals itself gradually and is a generally more difficult record), and for that reason I doubt the group's sophomore release will end up with spectacular sales. It's not hard to admit that Demon Days is a better record than Gorillaz on the whole, but I have a feeling Parlophone will be relying on Coldplay's upcoming epic to keep them financially afloat this summer.
(06/02/05 1:22am)
n 2001, Blur's Damon Albarn realized his own band was stagnating, and decided to strike up a side project complete with cartoon mascots, a wealth of guest artists and one very inventive producer in Dan the Automator. Gorillaz, as both the album and group were known, mashed up subversively funky beats and dub-bass with mostly dispassionate and disconnected vocals, and spawned a hit ("Clint Eastwood") which actually helped the album go six times platinum. Along with other tracks like "Tomorrow Comes Today" and "Slow Country," Gorillaz proved itself to be worth more of Albarn's time than Blur, given Blur had been fizzling out ever since "Song 2" was at its "woo-hoo" peak on the charts.\nThe success of Gorillaz's debut album obviously influenced Albarn to continue the whole affair, eschewing Dan the Automator from the boards in favor of Danger Mouse, one of the hottest free-agent underground producers. Danger Mouse's presence can be felt all over the album by way of the same slow-to-mid-tempo flair he brought to last year's brilliant, copyright-busting Grey Album which mutated Jay-Z's Black Album and The Beatles' White Album into a blissful stew of pop/rap convergence.\nIn fact, other than guitar, and of course vocal stylings (still as dispassionate as ever, despite going all Chris Martin on part of "Last Living Souls"), Albarn is virtually unrecognizable on Demon Days. The songs have a decidedly more playful feel that those on Gorillaz, despite the dark, topical subject matter found throughout, but even casual listeners should credit Danger Mouse for how 90% of Demon Days casually slips its way out of their speakers. This is a record for the sort of parties where everyone sits around on the couch discussing the philosophy of Kant, yet it still works, for the most part. Keep a close eye on Danger Mouse in the future. He could blow us all away if he ever decides to release a major-label solo disc.\nGuest artist wise, Gorillaz's debut relied on virtual unknowns who brought their own personal sense of style to the sessions. Demon Days finds Albarn taking a more-traveled road in terms of guest spots. From the opening notes of the album featuring Dario Argento's "Dawn of the Dead" score, to guest raps by De La Soul, Roots Manuva and MF Doom, backing vocals by Neneh Cherry, spoken-word by an all-too-calm Dennis Hooper, and even a piano solo by Ike Turner himself on "Every Planet We Reach Is Dead," Demon Days manages to shift musical tone from track to track while still holding onto a generally haunted sound.\nDemon Days is more a showcase for Danger Mouse's ability to reign in a 15-track disc and make it gel than it is a quasi-testament to Damon Albarn's prowess as some sort of creative force. Gorillaz' debut was ultimately more immediately accessible than Demon Days (which reveals itself gradually and is a generally more difficult record), and for that reason I doubt the group's sophomore release will end up with spectacular sales. It's not hard to admit that Demon Days is a better record than Gorillaz on the whole, but I have a feeling Parlophone will be relying on Coldplay's upcoming epic to keep them financially afloat this summer.
(05/19/05 4:29pm)
I've been hearing some disconcerting criticisms of Wes Anderson being bandied about lately. Mostly that he's becoming a one-trick pony whose films are in a tragicomic rut while becoming less and less likable and always seeming to feature Bill Murray as a sad sack. To me, that's like calling Stanley Kubrick a one trick pony for his use of tracking shots or getting on Wes Craven's case for making another horror film. Leave the man to work his magic; the magic is on fine display in "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou."\nMurray plays a sad sack once again, but this time he's Captain Steve Zissou, commander of his vessel, the Belafonte, and leader of a ragtag group of aquatic adventurers mostly bent on chasing down a shark that killed his old friend and confidant. The role allows Murray, now at the pinnacle of his career, to chew scenery with his mere physical presence, and his demeanor throughout the film is one of despondence with a sardonic smile. While critics generally panned the film upon its initial release, it's possible they were just reacting to the goings-on with the same malaise that is "Zissou's" trademark, not bothering to dig up the subtext. Regardless, "The Life Aquatic" bristles with a brand of eccentric humor that no other director seems to be dabbling in these days (other than Jared Hess's feeble and irritating attempt to copycat Anderson with "Napoleon Dynamite"), and for that he should be commended.\nBuena Vista, by way of the Criterion Collection, offers a one-disc version of the film for casual fans, but true Wes Anderson devotees would be wise to pick up the real Criterion two-disc affair, featuring the same director and co-writer commentary track as the one-disc version, but with a second disc loaded with, among many other things, 10 amusing deleted scenes, an intimate making-of documentary directed by Albert Maysles, the entire set of David Bowie songs performed in Portuguese by Seu Jorge and Eric Chase Anderson's quirkily endearing and plentiful box art that's already familiar to owners of the special edition "Rushmore" and "The Royal Tenenbaums" releases.\n"The Life Aquatic" is certainly not for everyone, least of all those who prefer conventional comedies concerning characters identifiable to their own lives. This "Life" is chock full of quirks and filled to the brim with the sort of hip irony and mathematically precise cinematography that some revel in and others scoff at. All of Wes Anderson's films have concerned themselves with admirable failures, unconventional and reluctant father figures, and the unmistakable pervasiveness of a quiet, slightly sad resignation of once-great lives gone sour. "The Life Aquatic" is a continuation of these themes, and along with its gorgeously vibrant production design and a punchy script, it's a serious contender for Anderson's finest film.
(05/19/05 4:00am)
I've been hearing some disconcerting criticisms of Wes Anderson being bandied about lately. Mostly that he's becoming a one-trick pony whose films are in a tragicomic rut while becoming less and less likable and always seeming to feature Bill Murray as a sad sack. To me, that's like calling Stanley Kubrick a one trick pony for his use of tracking shots or getting on Wes Craven's case for making another horror film. Leave the man to work his magic; the magic is on fine display in "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou."\nMurray plays a sad sack once again, but this time he's Captain Steve Zissou, commander of his vessel, the Belafonte, and leader of a ragtag group of aquatic adventurers mostly bent on chasing down a shark that killed his old friend and confidant. The role allows Murray, now at the pinnacle of his career, to chew scenery with his mere physical presence, and his demeanor throughout the film is one of despondence with a sardonic smile. While critics generally panned the film upon its initial release, it's possible they were just reacting to the goings-on with the same malaise that is "Zissou's" trademark, not bothering to dig up the subtext. Regardless, "The Life Aquatic" bristles with a brand of eccentric humor that no other director seems to be dabbling in these days (other than Jared Hess's feeble and irritating attempt to copycat Anderson with "Napoleon Dynamite"), and for that he should be commended.\nBuena Vista, by way of the Criterion Collection, offers a one-disc version of the film for casual fans, but true Wes Anderson devotees would be wise to pick up the real Criterion two-disc affair, featuring the same director and co-writer commentary track as the one-disc version, but with a second disc loaded with, among many other things, 10 amusing deleted scenes, an intimate making-of documentary directed by Albert Maysles, the entire set of David Bowie songs performed in Portuguese by Seu Jorge and Eric Chase Anderson's quirkily endearing and plentiful box art that's already familiar to owners of the special edition "Rushmore" and "The Royal Tenenbaums" releases.\n"The Life Aquatic" is certainly not for everyone, least of all those who prefer conventional comedies concerning characters identifiable to their own lives. This "Life" is chock full of quirks and filled to the brim with the sort of hip irony and mathematically precise cinematography that some revel in and others scoff at. All of Wes Anderson's films have concerned themselves with admirable failures, unconventional and reluctant father figures, and the unmistakable pervasiveness of a quiet, slightly sad resignation of once-great lives gone sour. "The Life Aquatic" is a continuation of these themes, and along with its gorgeously vibrant production design and a punchy script, it's a serious contender for Anderson's finest film.
(05/12/05 4:00am)
Smack in the middle of his two biggest commercial triumphs, 1975's Born to Run and 1984's Born in the U.S.A., Bruce Springsteen released his single finest (and yet somehow most obscure) record. Armed with nothing more than his voice, harmonica and acoustic guitar, Springsteen painted 1982's Nebraska as a bleak, haunting portrait of Reagan's America that clawed its way deep into the brain of anyone who dared give it a listen. 13 years later, the criminally underrated Ghost of Tom Joad proved itself the sequel to Nebraska in terms of tone and topicality. Both albums showcased Bruce virtually solo, telling gripping, first-person stories of individuals left behind by their own society, grasping at any semblance of optimism, affection or self-worth.\nSpringsteen's 13th studio and third solo album, Devils & Dust, quickly proves itself more heavily produced than either Nebraska or Joad (courtesy of Brendan O'Brien, who gave The E Street Band's last collaborative effort a splash of grandeur), but rather than overshadowing the intimacy of the lyrics or sincerity of the performance, the added tonal flourishes only amplify what Springsteen is aiming at here, which is a politely cautionary yet hopeful album designed specifically for these heady times.\nOften heralded as a spokesman for the common working man, especially on earlier classic tracks like "Stolen Car" and "One Step Up," Springsteen shifts gears on Devils & Dust to paint himself as a voice for the chronically disillusioned. The title track is a lament by pawns on both sides of the current war as they mistakenly assume their own personal deity is on their side while at the same time simply doing their best to survive the whole ordeal. \nThe touching "Matamoros Banks" is an elegy for every Mexican who perishes in their attempt to find a better life for themselves and their family by crossing the Rio Grande. "The Hitter" tells the tale of a man who makes his living through violence despite being, in his own mind, a desperate and weary pacifist, while "Leah" emanates from the mouth of someone who desires nothing more than a grounded life and comfortable love in the face of stars that seem to be aligned against him.\nDelving into graphic sexual territory for the first time ever on a Springsteen record, "Reno" is less about the instant, guiltless gratification of a tryst with a prostitute than it is about a piteous search for fleeting companionship. "Long Time Comin'," "Maria's Bed" and "All I'm Thinkin' About" are more upbeat than fans of Springsteen's solo work are used to, but all three exude an air of country flair that are unmistakably infectious. Even the dobro and pedal steel are all-inclusive, and only The Boss could make a washboard seem universal.\nIf Devils & Dust has a single weak moment, it's "Jesus Was an Only Son," which is a competent, if formulaic tune in its own right but feels forced when placed up against the 11 superb tracks that surround it. The track ought to have been left off in favor of one of several possible B-sides that packed more of a punch.\nSpringsteen, solo or with E Street, has not recorded an album as confident, consistent or intimate as Devils & Dust since 1987's Tunnel of Love. It's a remarkable return to form for a man who has recently been preoccupied with partisan politics (however noble) and the resurrection of a more rational pre-9/11 national mindset. As Springsteen says on "All the Way Home," "I know what it's like to have failed, baby, with the whole world lookin' on." Regardless of his recent political failure, he's conjured up the finest record of 2005 so far.
(05/12/05 4:00am)
Hoop Dreams" is the story of the lives of two inner-city Chicago boys, Williams Gates and Arthur Agee, whose grand dreams of careers in basketball precede all other things. Originally released in 1994, "Hoop Dreams" was filmed over a five-year period and over 11 full days of film was shot for the project. Director Steve James, editor Frederick Marx and cinematographer Peter Gilbert painstakingly cut the wealth of footage down to a slim 171 minutes and emerged with one of the most compelling documentaries ever made about the search for the American Dream and the highs and lows that go along with it.\nReleased for the first time on DVD courtesy of the Criterion Collection, the picture quality has been improved drastically from the muddy 35mm-to-VHS transfer, making the boys' journey from grammar school to college all the more vibrant in presentation. As William and Arthur lament their economically lacking lifestyles, while at the same time professing their love for their families and those who support their goals, viewers begin sympathizing with the boys, all the way to the point where a game-winning free throw attempt takes on the same sense of heightened suspense as a hard-boiled action scene in most other films. The boys' deep admiration for the likes of Isaiah Thomas, Bobby Knight and various NBA superstars is tangible, palpable and all the more draining as we become unsure if the boys' dreams will ever come true.\nTrue to form, the Criterion Collection has laced this single disc edition with meaningful extras including two full-length commentary tracks, one featuring the filmmakers and the other featuring Gates and Agee in the present day. Both give unending insight into a film already packed with heady material, but only Gates' and Agee's track packs an emotional punch as the two men wax romantic on their former dreams of stardom. Also offered with this disc is a featurette chronicling Siskel & Ebert's undying devotion to getting this film out to audiences and award show voters and a 38-page booklet with several valuable essays.\nThroughout "Hoop Dreams" we're fully aware that the boys' true talent is there, as is obvious from the get-go, but as the film progresses, and the boys' hopes and aspirations are equally encouraged and dashed, it becomes less a film about whether or not William and Arthur will make it to the NBA and more about whether or not they will make successful lives for themselves.
(05/12/05 1:44am)
Hoop Dreams" is the story of the lives of two inner-city Chicago boys, Williams Gates and Arthur Agee, whose grand dreams of careers in basketball precede all other things. Originally released in 1994, "Hoop Dreams" was filmed over a five-year period and over 11 full days of film was shot for the project. Director Steve James, editor Frederick Marx and cinematographer Peter Gilbert painstakingly cut the wealth of footage down to a slim 171 minutes and emerged with one of the most compelling documentaries ever made about the search for the American Dream and the highs and lows that go along with it.\nReleased for the first time on DVD courtesy of the Criterion Collection, the picture quality has been improved drastically from the muddy 35mm-to-VHS transfer, making the boys' journey from grammar school to college all the more vibrant in presentation. As William and Arthur lament their economically lacking lifestyles, while at the same time professing their love for their families and those who support their goals, viewers begin sympathizing with the boys, all the way to the point where a game-winning free throw attempt takes on the same sense of heightened suspense as a hard-boiled action scene in most other films. The boys' deep admiration for the likes of Isaiah Thomas, Bobby Knight and various NBA superstars is tangible, palpable and all the more draining as we become unsure if the boys' dreams will ever come true.\nTrue to form, the Criterion Collection has laced this single disc edition with meaningful extras including two full-length commentary tracks, one featuring the filmmakers and the other featuring Gates and Agee in the present day. Both give unending insight into a film already packed with heady material, but only Gates' and Agee's track packs an emotional punch as the two men wax romantic on their former dreams of stardom. Also offered with this disc is a featurette chronicling Siskel & Ebert's undying devotion to getting this film out to audiences and award show voters and a 38-page booklet with several valuable essays.\nThroughout "Hoop Dreams" we're fully aware that the boys' true talent is there, as is obvious from the get-go, but as the film progresses, and the boys' hopes and aspirations are equally encouraged and dashed, it becomes less a film about whether or not William and Arthur will make it to the NBA and more about whether or not they will make successful lives for themselves.