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(05/26/04 9:57pm)
To call Mike Skinner (aka the Streets) the British Eminem has become the ultimate cliché. To call him one of the most inventive and talented musical forces working today is a more fitting description. Along with Dizzee Rascal, Skinner is invigorating the London rap scene, and may well be leading a new breed of British Invasion.\nSkinner's sophomore record, A Grand Don't Come for Free, takes it upon itself to better his debut, Original Pirate Material, and succeeds amazingly well. Don't let this scare you off, but Grand takes pride in being a solid concept album. The concept takes shape in the form of a few weeks in the life of a disenchanted Londoner named Mike. What at first seems like a dull series of motions gone through reveals itself as a compelling tale about a missing 1,000 quid and a futile relationship that, at this point in time, only Skinner could tell so well.\nMike's rhyme style is effortlessly unique, resting firmly on his thick British accent and furious wit. No one else could craft verses about spliffing and watching the telly that are as interesting and engaging. The beats, produced entirely by Skinner, are some of the best in recent memory, and prove once again that less flash very often means more in the realm of aesthetic effect.\nThe best tracks on the disc are nothing short of a sampler pack of 2004's best music so far. The somberly beautiful "Dry Your Eyes" and "Could Well Be In," the epic closer "Empty Cans," the edgy "***Not Addicted***" and the jaw-dropping "Blinded by the Lights" are all blueprints for where hip-hop and electronica should be headed, if it has any sense. The album's finest moment comes during "Blinded," when the pills Mike popped finally take effect with a heady electronic buzz that mirrors the drug's own mental alteration.\nGrand's only misstep is the overcharged "Fit But You Know It," which just happens to be the one track Atlantic Records chose to offer up to the fickle public as a single. I have to assume their reasoning was its chugging, punkish guitar riff. The sparse electronic beats that grace the rest of the album may not translate well to radio, but their simplistic defiance in the face of the Clear Channel generation is valiant.\nTo call A Grand Don't Come for Free an excellent record would be to damn it with faint praise. Essential is a better word.
(05/25/04 3:12pm)
Let's discuss television for a moment, shall we?\nIt's been one week since Ross, Rachel, Joey, Phoebe, Monica and Chandler walked off to the coffee shop and out of NBC's Must-See TV lineup, and the landscape of televised entertainment is certainly better off without them. Now before all you ladies (and a few of you guys) head to my house with pitchforks and torches, let me explain my rationale.\nThe end of "Friends" signaled the death knell for the traditional situation comedy. The recently ended "Frasier," a far superior program, and "Everybody Loves Raymond" will most likely go down as the last two sitcoms that mattered. Don't misunderstand me. There are still many comedy-based programs on television that are worth a damn, but the old-school, "filmed before a live studio audience" sitcom has very likely reached its demise.\nThe reason that sitcoms are on their death bed is because their parameters have finally become more of a hindrance than a positive. The typical studio set with the couch at its center has become tiresome to most of today's television audience. Despite frighteningly low national IQ test survey results, it seems that the people actually do crave something more stimulating.\nAlong with the sitcom, another of television's most despicable companions needs to be ushered out of existence. I am speaking of the dreaded laugh track, aka canned laughter, aka dead people chuckling from the speakers. This dreadful device has been telling we Americans when to laugh for too long now. Never would anyone on the "Friends" set tell you this, but even though that program is filmed under the watchful eye of a live audience, the laughs of that audience cannot be depended upon to let the home viewer know when something supposedly funny has just occured. That's where the laugh track comes into play, and said laugh track is essentially the Pavlovian bell of television. The best comedy series on today ("Arrested Development," "The Office," "Malcolm in the Middle" and "Curb Your Enthusiasm") allow the audience to laugh on its own, without the guidance of others. These shows actually trust their viewers' intelligence.\nSo where will fans of the much-mourned sitcom genre go for comfort? Why not into the realm of reality? Like it or not, reality television is now officially the most lucrative and, dare I say it, creative form of boob tube entertainment today. It has become clear that reality TV is no longer a fad or temporary sensation. CBS has risen to the top of the Nielsen ratings game on the basis of the still-great "Survivor," and NBC was close on its heels last season with Donald Trump's "The Apprentice." MTV has become a network of reality shows interspersed with the occasional Avril Lavigne video. And let us not forget that the term "reality" as it applies to reality television is in certainty a truism. What is more representative of human nature than a person's willingness to perform stunts, create enemies, and harbor bitterness all for the sake of the almighty dollar?\nLet us not forget drama. If "Friends" taught us anything, it was that a sitcom can be cheesily morphed into a drama during it's final seasons simply for the purpose of illiciting mass amounts of awwww's from its audience. So where do we turn now for actual worthy television drama? Well, for those of us without HBO or Showtime (the only two networks to host seriously worthy dramatic television for years), there's "24," "The O.C." and, as much as I hate to say it, all 15 of those "CSI" shows. For those lucky enough to have pay networks, revel in the greatness that is "The Sopranos," "Deadwood," "Queer as Folk" and "Six Feet Under."\nBack to my "Friends" bashing for a moment. What is at the heart of my disdain for this uber-popular program? It's not as if it ever tried to harm anyone. I think it all boils down to my distaste for the unreal. These six companions who all seem to never wear the same outfit twice, intermingling and intermating, obsessively discussing relationships and marriages and babies (by the way, with all the babies born on that show, how come you never saw them more than once?), and dodging all sorts of fanciful crises with the utmost success. What scares me the most is, maybe "Friends" wasn't that far off from many peoples' realities.\nSo if you're one of those seemingly millions of people who will feel your life is slightly less meaningful without "Friends" on the air every week, fear not. Reruns are aired approximately 30 times per week on three separate channels in central Indiana. Me? I'll stick to watching "Arrested Development" for laughs, and waiting impatiently for "Seinfeld" (laugh track and all) to finally come out on DVD.
(05/25/04 3:10pm)
Director Gus Van Sant's "Elephant," winner of the Golden Palm at the 2003 Cannes Film Festival, explores a seemingly typical morning in the life of a group of high school students in Oregon. It doesn't take long for that morning to turn gruesome in the form of a school shooting spree coordinated by two dejected loners.\n Van Sant's work feels more like a voyeuristic look into an everyday high school than an actual movie. There is essentially no acting in the film (most of the lines were ad-libbed by the cast of teenage unknowns), and once the violence begins, it's eerily dreamlike.\n Chock full of Kubrickian steadicam tracking shots, long passages in which no one speaks and featuring Beethoven's "Für Elise" as a musical undercurrent, "Elephant" makes its mundane high school halls seem utterly haunting, long before the guns are ablaze.\n While no overt references to the 1999 Columbine massacre are made, it's obvious that the film is based, at least in part, on that tragedy. When the two killers appear dressed in military garb and wielding semi-automatic rifles, the correlation is clear. As with Columbine, we are offered no real insight into the motives of the two boys, and that glaring omission only works to the film's benefit.\n The disc is lacking in extras, but does include a brief, understated on-set documentary, which features about as much vague insight into the young actors' personalities as the film affords their characters.\nWhile a school shooting isn't exactly suitable material for an uplifting evening on the couch, "Elephant" is essential viewing for art film fans and especially for parents of high school students.
(05/24/04 8:50pm)
There's a new Jack Johnson tune called "Free" making its way to a radio station near you, only it's not Jack Johnson (regardless of what your ears would have you believe) but rather his friend, surfing buddy and musical progeny, Donavon Frankenreiter.\nReleased on Johnson's own record label with production courtesy of Jack and Beastie Boys collaborator Mario Caldato Jr., Frankenreiter's self-titled debut finds him riding the fence between listless and lethargic. Every track has the same warm and fuzzy feeling of his mentor's "Flake" and "Bubble Toes," but possesses little, if any, of Johnson's quirky lyrical prowess.\nThat being said, Frankenreiter is a mostly enjoyable record with barely any artistic pretension to get hung up on. It's obvious that Donavon's songs were written with the beach and the Bud in mind, and as a whole, the album resonates with a calming sense of unhurriedness.\nFans of Jack Johnson and his ilk will have no trouble warming up to Frankenreiter's safe, comfortable songs about love and life, though, many overcritical listeners may be left feeling a bit empty after these 37 minutes. Regardless, if chilling is your aim, Frankenreiter's your game.
(05/24/04 8:45pm)
Winner of the Oscar for Best Documentary, "The Fog of War" is Errol Morris' gripping, chilling and most of all timely gaze into the life and mind of former United States Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara. Posing as many questions as it answers, it leaves viewers somewhat stunned upon its conclusion.\nMcNamara served as Secretary of Defense during the Kennedy and Johnson Administrations, and was instrumental in most all operations involving the Vietnam conflict. This documentary is staged as a one-on-one interview with McNamara, once considered the world's most politically powerful man, in which he fields topics ranging from Lyndon Johnson's infamous taped Oval Office conversations to the possibility of nuclear war in the 21st Century (not to mention how close we came to it on several key dates in the 1960s). An edgy Philip Glass score only adds to the tension as this now 85-year-old man exposes his past actions layer by fascinating layer.\nDisc extras include 24 invaluable extended scenes from the film, and an intimate elaboration by McNamara on the key lessons he learned throughout his life in politics and the public eye.\nA point that McNamara never shies away from in "Fog" is that we should learn from our past mistakes in war and conflict. We now live in a world where Donald Rumsfeld holds the same frighteningly powerful position that McNamara held in the '60s, and, depending on your personal politics, both men's decisions in times of crisis can certainly be criticized. The key difference is that while Rumsfeld exudes an air of snottily pompous egotism, McNamara reveals himself to be a brilliant strategist who always had the nation's best interest in his heart and mind.
(05/20/04 4:00am)
There's a new Jack Johnson tune called "Free" making its way to a radio station near you, only it's not Jack Johnson (regardless of what your ears would have you believe) but rather his friend, surfing buddy and musical progeny, Donavon Frankenreiter.\nReleased on Johnson's own record label with production courtesy of Jack and Beastie Boys collaborator Mario Caldato Jr., Frankenreiter's self-titled debut finds him riding the fence between listless and lethargic. Every track has the same warm and fuzzy feeling of his mentor's "Flake" and "Bubble Toes," but possesses little, if any, of Johnson's quirky lyrical prowess.\nThat being said, Frankenreiter is a mostly enjoyable record with barely any artistic pretension to get hung up on. It's obvious that Donavon's songs were written with the beach and the Bud in mind, and as a whole, the album resonates with a calming sense of unhurriedness.\nFans of Jack Johnson and his ilk will have no trouble warming up to Frankenreiter's safe, comfortable songs about love and life, though, many overcritical listeners may be left feeling a bit empty after these 37 minutes. Regardless, if chilling is your aim, Frankenreiter's your game.
(05/20/04 4:00am)
Winner of the Oscar for Best Documentary, "The Fog of War" is Errol Morris' gripping, chilling and most of all timely gaze into the life and mind of former United States Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara. Posing as many questions as it answers, it leaves viewers somewhat stunned upon its conclusion.\nMcNamara served as Secretary of Defense during the Kennedy and Johnson Administrations, and was instrumental in most all operations involving the Vietnam conflict. This documentary is staged as a one-on-one interview with McNamara, once considered the world's most politically powerful man, in which he fields topics ranging from Lyndon Johnson's infamous taped Oval Office conversations to the possibility of nuclear war in the 21st Century (not to mention how close we came to it on several key dates in the 1960s). An edgy Philip Glass score only adds to the tension as this now 85-year-old man exposes his past actions layer by fascinating layer.\nDisc extras include 24 invaluable extended scenes from the film, and an intimate elaboration by McNamara on the key lessons he learned throughout his life in politics and the public eye.\nA point that McNamara never shies away from in "Fog" is that we should learn from our past mistakes in war and conflict. We now live in a world where Donald Rumsfeld holds the same frighteningly powerful position that McNamara held in the '60s, and, depending on your personal politics, both men's decisions in times of crisis can certainly be criticized. The key difference is that while Rumsfeld exudes an air of snottily pompous egotism, McNamara reveals himself to be a brilliant strategist who always had the nation's best interest in his heart and mind.
(05/13/04 4:00am)
Director Gus Van Sant's "Elephant," winner of the Golden Palm at the 2003 Cannes Film Festival, explores a seemingly typical morning in the life of a group of high school students in Oregon. It doesn't take long for that morning to turn gruesome in the form of a school shooting spree coordinated by two dejected loners.\n Van Sant's work feels more like a voyeuristic look into an everyday high school than an actual movie. There is essentially no acting in the film (most of the lines were ad-libbed by the cast of teenage unknowns), and once the violence begins, it's eerily dreamlike.\n Chock full of Kubrickian steadicam tracking shots, long passages in which no one speaks and featuring Beethoven's "Für Elise" as a musical undercurrent, "Elephant" makes its mundane high school halls seem utterly haunting, long before the guns are ablaze.\n While no overt references to the 1999 Columbine massacre are made, it's obvious that the film is based, at least in part, on that tragedy. When the two killers appear dressed in military garb and wielding semi-automatic rifles, the correlation is clear. As with Columbine, we are offered no real insight into the motives of the two boys, and that glaring omission only works to the film's benefit.\n The disc is lacking in extras, but does include a brief, understated on-set documentary, which features about as much vague insight into the young actors' personalities as the film affords their characters.\nWhile a school shooting isn't exactly suitable material for an uplifting evening on the couch, "Elephant" is essential viewing for art film fans and especially for parents of high school students.
(05/13/04 4:00am)
Let's discuss television for a moment, shall we?\nIt's been one week since Ross, Rachel, Joey, Phoebe, Monica and Chandler walked off to the coffee shop and out of NBC's Must-See TV lineup, and the landscape of televised entertainment is certainly better off without them. Now before all you ladies (and a few of you guys) head to my house with pitchforks and torches, let me explain my rationale.\nThe end of "Friends" signaled the death knell for the traditional situation comedy. The recently ended "Frasier," a far superior program, and "Everybody Loves Raymond" will most likely go down as the last two sitcoms that mattered. Don't misunderstand me. There are still many comedy-based programs on television that are worth a damn, but the old-school, "filmed before a live studio audience" sitcom has very likely reached its demise.\nThe reason that sitcoms are on their death bed is because their parameters have finally become more of a hindrance than a positive. The typical studio set with the couch at its center has become tiresome to most of today's television audience. Despite frighteningly low national IQ test survey results, it seems that the people actually do crave something more stimulating.\nAlong with the sitcom, another of television's most despicable companions needs to be ushered out of existence. I am speaking of the dreaded laugh track, aka canned laughter, aka dead people chuckling from the speakers. This dreadful device has been telling we Americans when to laugh for too long now. Never would anyone on the "Friends" set tell you this, but even though that program is filmed under the watchful eye of a live audience, the laughs of that audience cannot be depended upon to let the home viewer know when something supposedly funny has just occured. That's where the laugh track comes into play, and said laugh track is essentially the Pavlovian bell of television. The best comedy series on today ("Arrested Development," "The Office," "Malcolm in the Middle" and "Curb Your Enthusiasm") allow the audience to laugh on its own, without the guidance of others. These shows actually trust their viewers' intelligence.\nSo where will fans of the much-mourned sitcom genre go for comfort? Why not into the realm of reality? Like it or not, reality television is now officially the most lucrative and, dare I say it, creative form of boob tube entertainment today. It has become clear that reality TV is no longer a fad or temporary sensation. CBS has risen to the top of the Nielsen ratings game on the basis of the still-great "Survivor," and NBC was close on its heels last season with Donald Trump's "The Apprentice." MTV has become a network of reality shows interspersed with the occasional Avril Lavigne video. And let us not forget that the term "reality" as it applies to reality television is in certainty a truism. What is more representative of human nature than a person's willingness to perform stunts, create enemies, and harbor bitterness all for the sake of the almighty dollar?\nLet us not forget drama. If "Friends" taught us anything, it was that a sitcom can be cheesily morphed into a drama during it's final seasons simply for the purpose of illiciting mass amounts of awwww's from its audience. So where do we turn now for actual worthy television drama? Well, for those of us without HBO or Showtime (the only two networks to host seriously worthy dramatic television for years), there's "24," "The O.C." and, as much as I hate to say it, all 15 of those "CSI" shows. For those lucky enough to have pay networks, revel in the greatness that is "The Sopranos," "Deadwood," "Queer as Folk" and "Six Feet Under."\nBack to my "Friends" bashing for a moment. What is at the heart of my disdain for this uber-popular program? It's not as if it ever tried to harm anyone. I think it all boils down to my distaste for the unreal. These six companions who all seem to never wear the same outfit twice, intermingling and intermating, obsessively discussing relationships and marriages and babies (by the way, with all the babies born on that show, how come you never saw them more than once?), and dodging all sorts of fanciful crises with the utmost success. What scares me the most is, maybe "Friends" wasn't that far off from many peoples' realities.\nSo if you're one of those seemingly millions of people who will feel your life is slightly less meaningful without "Friends" on the air every week, fear not. Reruns are aired approximately 30 times per week on three separate channels in central Indiana. Me? I'll stick to watching "Arrested Development" for laughs, and waiting impatiently for "Seinfeld" (laugh track and all) to finally come out on DVD.
(04/30/04 3:53pm)
Unlike in the film world, where summertime is a breeding ground for blockbusters and epics, most musicians wait until off-peak times to release their much-awaited material. So far, the upcoming season seems to be an exception, with quite a few major releases hitting the stores. Besides, any summer in which the world's five best white rappers (Mathers, Skinner, Diamond, Horowitz, Yauch) are all releasing new material is a summer to look forward to. The following are the majority of notable album releases for the summer of 2004.\nDonavon Frankenreiter, Donavon Frankenreiter (May 11) -- This awkwardly named progeny of Jack Johnson has crafted his own understatedly unique brand of chill-pop, perfect for hanging out by the pool or boozing on the beach. It's a fitting kickoff to a promising season in music.\nAlanis Morissette, So-Called Chaos (May 18) -- "Everything," the first single from Alanis' forthcoming LP, is as finely tuned as anything on her 1995 mega-selling debut Jagged Little Pill. The rest of the album is purported to be a continuation of Morissette's themes of female empowerment and oneness with nature. With song titles like "Doth I Protest Too Much," "The Grudge" and "Spineless," be prepared for more of Alanis' sardonic sensibility.\nThe Streets, A Grand Don't Come For Free (May 18) -- Britain's premiere rhyme-spitter delivers his follow-up to 2002's groundbreaking Original Pirate Material. Mike Skinner, the gangly white boy who is giving Eminem a run for his money in the Caucasian rap game, says this album is more focused on storytelling than slippery flow, and since Skinner's stories are nearly as entrancing as Biggie's, rap afficionados should listen up.\nThe Beastie Boys, To the 5 Boroughs (June 15) -- After an excruciating six year hiatus, the Boys of Beastie are back with an album described as 'truer to their hip-hop roots.' With a photo of the World Trade Center on the cover, Boroughs is a tribute to the group's New York City roots, and is said to be filled with even more political fervor than Rage brought to the table. The world has changed drastically since we last left the Beasties, and now is their time to reinvigorate rap one more time.\nWilco, A Ghost is Born (June 22) -- Fresh out of rehab due to an addiction to painkillers, Jeff Tweedy has managed to perpetuate Wilco's status as possibly the most curiously watchable band in rock music today. With Ghost, Tweedy and friends have crafted one of the best albums I've heard so far this year. With songs shifting from stone-cold somber to smirkingly cheery, this album is engaging from start to finish. The entire album can be heard now at www.wilcoworld.net.\nThe Roots, The Tipping Point (June 29) -- Hip-hop's premiere live act drops their next LP with much anticipation and much to live up to. On the heels of 2002's blazing Phrenology, Black Thought, ?uestlove and the boys will no doubt deliver some of the summer's most insightful rhymes, all the while refreshingly playing their own instruments!\nEminem, Untitled (July 6 or thereabouts) -- The great white hope is back again, and to no one's surprise he's still angry as hell. In spite of the Area 51-style secrecy surrounding his upcoming summer release, two early tracks were leaked to the masses ("We As Americans" and "I Love You More"), and based on these cuts alone, it's a good bet that we're in for something mind-blowing.\nThe following several releases are slated for this summer, but their dates are yet to be announced.\nNine Inch Nails, Bleed Through -- Trent Reznor and company claim their next release promises to be "more song-oriented and less epic. It's like 12 good shots to the face." Ready to combat all the lesser nu-metal and faux-industrial rock that's been hurled out since NIN's 1999 subtle but brilliant The Fragile, don't expect Reznor to pull a single punch.\nElliott Smith, From a Basement on a Hill -- Smith, an excellent songwriter and perpetually tortured soul, died of an apparently self-inflicted stab wound in October 2003, with the vast majority of material for his next album completed and mixed. His family has thankfully seen fit to officially release this material, to the delight of Smith's fans. The songs contained should be nothing short of Smith's heartbreaking best.\nU2, Solar -- Bono and his crew are in the studio cooking up another self-produced monolith to unleash upon the world. With a title like Solar, I think it's safe to assume that we're in for a grandiose experience likened to that of 1991's Achtung Baby.\nBrian Wilson, Smile -- While we all know Brian Wilson has been a tad off his rocker for decades, I still find it inexcusable that he's witheld his mysterious lost album, Smile, from fans since 1967. Initially slated to follow up The Beach Boys' 1966 masterwork (and my personal, current pick as the greatest album ever recorded) Pet Sounds, Smile was largely recorded in seclusion by Wilson and his composer friend Van Dyke Parks, then shelved in favor of the more commercially viable material found on the band's Smiley Smile LP which took its place. The lost material is finally being laid to record and officially released, and even though Wilson is 37 years older, and perhaps 37 years crazier, the music world is better off with Smile on the shelves.\nOther bands and artists with announced, untitled or closely guarded projects in the works for a late summer or early fall release include 50 Cent, Beck, Coldplay, Green Day, R.E.M. and Weezer. Regardless of your musical taste or bias, the coming four months will surely offer up something to your liking.
(04/29/04 4:00am)
Unlike in the film world, where summertime is a breeding ground for blockbusters and epics, most musicians wait until off-peak times to release their much-awaited material. So far, the upcoming season seems to be an exception, with quite a few major releases hitting the stores. Besides, any summer in which the world's five best white rappers (Mathers, Skinner, Diamond, Horowitz, Yauch) are all releasing new material is a summer to look forward to. The following are the majority of notable album releases for the summer of 2004.\nDonavon Frankenreiter, Donavon Frankenreiter (May 11) -- This awkwardly named progeny of Jack Johnson has crafted his own understatedly unique brand of chill-pop, perfect for hanging out by the pool or boozing on the beach. It's a fitting kickoff to a promising season in music.\nAlanis Morissette, So-Called Chaos (May 18) -- "Everything," the first single from Alanis' forthcoming LP, is as finely tuned as anything on her 1995 mega-selling debut Jagged Little Pill. The rest of the album is purported to be a continuation of Morissette's themes of female empowerment and oneness with nature. With song titles like "Doth I Protest Too Much," "The Grudge" and "Spineless," be prepared for more of Alanis' sardonic sensibility.\nThe Streets, A Grand Don't Come For Free (May 18) -- Britain's premiere rhyme-spitter delivers his follow-up to 2002's groundbreaking Original Pirate Material. Mike Skinner, the gangly white boy who is giving Eminem a run for his money in the Caucasian rap game, says this album is more focused on storytelling than slippery flow, and since Skinner's stories are nearly as entrancing as Biggie's, rap afficionados should listen up.\nThe Beastie Boys, To the 5 Boroughs (June 15) -- After an excruciating six year hiatus, the Boys of Beastie are back with an album described as 'truer to their hip-hop roots.' With a photo of the World Trade Center on the cover, Boroughs is a tribute to the group's New York City roots, and is said to be filled with even more political fervor than Rage brought to the table. The world has changed drastically since we last left the Beasties, and now is their time to reinvigorate rap one more time.\nWilco, A Ghost is Born (June 22) -- Fresh out of rehab due to an addiction to painkillers, Jeff Tweedy has managed to perpetuate Wilco's status as possibly the most curiously watchable band in rock music today. With Ghost, Tweedy and friends have crafted one of the best albums I've heard so far this year. With songs shifting from stone-cold somber to smirkingly cheery, this album is engaging from start to finish. The entire album can be heard now at www.wilcoworld.net.\nThe Roots, The Tipping Point (June 29) -- Hip-hop's premiere live act drops their next LP with much anticipation and much to live up to. On the heels of 2002's blazing Phrenology, Black Thought, ?uestlove and the boys will no doubt deliver some of the summer's most insightful rhymes, all the while refreshingly playing their own instruments!\nEminem, Untitled (July 6 or thereabouts) -- The great white hope is back again, and to no one's surprise he's still angry as hell. In spite of the Area 51-style secrecy surrounding his upcoming summer release, two early tracks were leaked to the masses ("We As Americans" and "I Love You More"), and based on these cuts alone, it's a good bet that we're in for something mind-blowing.\nThe following several releases are slated for this summer, but their dates are yet to be announced.\nNine Inch Nails, Bleed Through -- Trent Reznor and company claim their next release promises to be "more song-oriented and less epic. It's like 12 good shots to the face." Ready to combat all the lesser nu-metal and faux-industrial rock that's been hurled out since NIN's 1999 subtle but brilliant The Fragile, don't expect Reznor to pull a single punch.\nElliott Smith, From a Basement on a Hill -- Smith, an excellent songwriter and perpetually tortured soul, died of an apparently self-inflicted stab wound in October 2003, with the vast majority of material for his next album completed and mixed. His family has thankfully seen fit to officially release this material, to the delight of Smith's fans. The songs contained should be nothing short of Smith's heartbreaking best.\nU2, Solar -- Bono and his crew are in the studio cooking up another self-produced monolith to unleash upon the world. With a title like Solar, I think it's safe to assume that we're in for a grandiose experience likened to that of 1991's Achtung Baby.\nBrian Wilson, Smile -- While we all know Brian Wilson has been a tad off his rocker for decades, I still find it inexcusable that he's witheld his mysterious lost album, Smile, from fans since 1967. Initially slated to follow up The Beach Boys' 1966 masterwork (and my personal, current pick as the greatest album ever recorded) Pet Sounds, Smile was largely recorded in seclusion by Wilson and his composer friend Van Dyke Parks, then shelved in favor of the more commercially viable material found on the band's Smiley Smile LP which took its place. The lost material is finally being laid to record and officially released, and even though Wilson is 37 years older, and perhaps 37 years crazier, the music world is better off with Smile on the shelves.\nOther bands and artists with announced, untitled or closely guarded projects in the works for a late summer or early fall release include 50 Cent, Beck, Coldplay, Green Day, R.E.M. and Weezer. Regardless of your musical taste or bias, the coming four months will surely offer up something to your liking.
(04/24/04 12:45am)
By now, it should be carved in stone that Quentin Tarantino is the penultimate writer/director in the eyes and minds of the current 20-something generation. After four brilliant films in 12 years, Tarantino is the epitome of quality above quantity. That is not to say that his latest labor of love, "Kill Bill," is any small offering. Both volumes clocking in at a shade long of four hours collectively, "Kill Bill" is an epic tale of revenge and redemption.\nThe first half of the saga, newly released on disc, is just as enjoyable on the small screen as the large. We witness the vengeful rampage of The Bride (an electric Uma Thurman), now awoken from a gunshot-induced coma, as she vanquishes two of the five killers who wronged her on her wedding day four years previous. By "Vol. 1's" end, she has bested both assassin-turned-housewife Vernita Green (in front of her daughter, no less) and Tokyo crime queen, O-Ren Ishii (along with about 40 of her bodyguards), leaving the sadistic Elle Driver (Daryl Hannah), the menacing Budd (Michael Madsen) and of course, Bill (David Carradine) on the chopping block for "Vol. 2."\nDrawing fragmentally on grindhouse martial arts flicks, spaghetti Westerns and anime, Tarantino has once again managed to transcend his source material and create something truly original which both cinephiles and uninitiated casual viewers can enjoy, respect and appreciate.\nObviously waiting to unleash the meaty extras on a monstrous "Complete Kill Bill" set later this year, this single disc is laced with the perfunctory trailers and previews, as well as a generic, 20-minute making-of documentary.\n"Kill Bill: Vol. 1" is what happens when a filmmaker tosses all the movies which enthralled and inspired him as a young man into a pot and stirs vigorously. Along with "Kill Bill: Vol. 2," Quentin Tarantino has concocted a wickedly tasty stew.
(04/22/04 4:00am)
By now, it should be carved in stone that Quentin Tarantino is the penultimate writer/director in the eyes and minds of the current 20-something generation. After four brilliant films in 12 years, Tarantino is the epitome of quality above quantity. That is not to say that his latest labor of love, "Kill Bill," is any small offering. Both volumes clocking in at a shade long of four hours collectively, "Kill Bill" is an epic tale of revenge and redemption.\nThe first half of the saga, newly released on disc, is just as enjoyable on the small screen as the large. We witness the vengeful rampage of The Bride (an electric Uma Thurman), now awoken from a gunshot-induced coma, as she vanquishes two of the five killers who wronged her on her wedding day four years previous. By "Vol. 1's" end, she has bested both assassin-turned-housewife Vernita Green (in front of her daughter, no less) and Tokyo crime queen, O-Ren Ishii (along with about 40 of her bodyguards), leaving the sadistic Elle Driver (Daryl Hannah), the menacing Budd (Michael Madsen) and of course, Bill (David Carradine) on the chopping block for "Vol. 2."\nDrawing fragmentally on grindhouse martial arts flicks, spaghetti Westerns and anime, Tarantino has once again managed to transcend his source material and create something truly original which both cinephiles and uninitiated casual viewers can enjoy, respect and appreciate.\nObviously waiting to unleash the meaty extras on a monstrous "Complete Kill Bill" set later this year, this single disc is laced with the perfunctory trailers and previews, as well as a generic, 20-minute making-of documentary.\n"Kill Bill: Vol. 1" is what happens when a filmmaker tosses all the movies which enthralled and inspired him as a young man into a pot and stirs vigorously. Along with "Kill Bill: Vol. 2," Quentin Tarantino has concocted a wickedly tasty stew.
(04/15/04 10:56pm)
I'm going to go out on a limb and say that William Hung's Inspiration is the most legitimate product ever spawned from the "American Idol" empire. That's not really saying much, seeing as how most '80s Neil Diamond albums are far better than anything by Kelly, Clay or Ruben, but it's at least saying something. Hung's pure novelty value is far more entertaining than any stylist-created teen crooning "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay" repeatedly.\nHung, a 21-year-old engineering student at the University of California, Berkeley, knows his appeal is fragile, but still he throws what soul he has into each song. The first time through, this album is pure hilarity, infinitely more so if you're under the influence. However, as with most middle-brow comedy, the laughs thin out upon repeated trips. Simply put, the joke wears off fast.\nSongs in Hung's cannon include butcherings of "Hotel California," "I Believe I Can Fly" and an Elton John triple threat ("Can You Feel the Love Tonight?," "Circle of Life" and "Rocket Man"). Each of the 11 songs on Inspiration is recorded with mediocre production and features Hung's painfully grating, karaoke-style vocal attempts.\nPerhaps the only respectable aspects of this silly romp are the four tracks featuring Hung's words of gratitude and inspiration. This guy could very well be the most appreciative and humble person in the music business. He honestly believes he's doing some good by simply being himself, and maybe he is. \nDespite his child-like appearance and hideous efforts at flexing his non-existent vocal range, William Hung inspires us all to believe that in 21st century America, anyone can garner fleeting fame and fortune by just being their goofy self.
(04/15/04 4:00am)
I'm going to go out on a limb and say that William Hung's Inspiration is the most legitimate product ever spawned from the "American Idol" empire. That's not really saying much, seeing as how most '80s Neil Diamond albums are far better than anything by Kelly, Clay or Ruben, but it's at least saying something. Hung's pure novelty value is far more entertaining than any stylist-created teen crooning "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay" repeatedly.\nHung, a 21-year-old engineering student at the University of California, Berkeley, knows his appeal is fragile, but still he throws what soul he has into each song. The first time through, this album is pure hilarity, infinitely more so if you're under the influence. However, as with most middle-brow comedy, the laughs thin out upon repeated trips. Simply put, the joke wears off fast.\nSongs in Hung's cannon include butcherings of "Hotel California," "I Believe I Can Fly" and an Elton John triple threat ("Can You Feel the Love Tonight?," "Circle of Life" and "Rocket Man"). Each of the 11 songs on Inspiration is recorded with mediocre production and features Hung's painfully grating, karaoke-style vocal attempts.\nPerhaps the only respectable aspects of this silly romp are the four tracks featuring Hung's words of gratitude and inspiration. This guy could very well be the most appreciative and humble person in the music business. He honestly believes he's doing some good by simply being himself, and maybe he is. \nDespite his child-like appearance and hideous efforts at flexing his non-existent vocal range, William Hung inspires us all to believe that in 21st century America, anyone can garner fleeting fame and fortune by just being their goofy self.
(04/08/04 5:11am)
Tobe Hooper's 1974 film, "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre," is the great-grandfather of the modern horror genre. Four full years before John Carpenter's "Halloween," "Chainsaw," loosely based on the true story of serial killer Ed Gein, broke open the gates for the common hack 'n' slash flick. It is horror's holy grail.\nThat being said, a remake of this film is essentially futile. First-time director Marcus Nispel makes a valiant effort tackling the source material, but the task at hand is simply too hefty. The result is a mildly pleasing scary movie with far more style than substance. It's basically an unmuddied update of a classic film too gritty and low-budget for most younger viewers.\nThe new "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" concerns a group of five young adults in the early 1970s on a road trip through rural Texas on their way to a Skynyrd concert. A few chance encounters place them in the sadistic hands of a chainsaw-wielding maniac and his deeply disturbed family. What ensues is a mish-mash of bludgeonings and dismemberments which eventually add up to a few satisfactory scares.\nOne and two disc versions are available. While the single disc skimps on extras, the double disc is jam-packed. An alternate opening and closing, a plethora of deleted scenes and a massive documentary on the making of the film are major bonuses, but the most important extra is "Gein: The Ghoul of Plainfield." A compelling doc exploring the killer on which the film is based, "Gein" is far more chilling than the feature film itself.\nIt's hardly a compliment to say that the best thing about the new "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" is ogling Jessica Biel in tight jeans and a midriff-bearing tank top, but I can definitely recommend this film for anyone in the mood for formulaic fright.
(04/08/04 4:54am)
The Who hold a very special place in my heart. Their 1971 masterpiece, Who's Next, was the first pre-Dookie disc I ever purchased. This compilation, the fifth or sixth of its kind, showcases one of the most dominant bands in rock history. Roger Daltrey was the swaggering frontman long before Robert Plant. Pete Townshend is the soul. His guitar was less instrument and more spiritual conduit. John Entwistle and Keith Moon brought everything back down to Earth with the most frantic and explosive rhythm section imaginable.\nThe Who's two primary strengths were their powerful live performances (they are often cited as the greatest live band of their era) and crafting heady concept records (Tommy, Quadrophenia, The Who By Numbers). However, they certainly had their share of stunning singles, most of which are included in this set.\nOther than the two new recordings included here, which would still hold up well on a Pete Townshend solo album, all 18 tracks on this disc are revelatory. Starting with their mod beginnings, careening through their reign as rock royalty and coming to a halt as they became elder statesmen, this set, thankfully presented in chronological order, resembles getting caught up in a tornado, riding it out and being let down to the ground softly.\nIf you've never discovered the sheer force which is The Who, Then and Now! 1964-2004 is a solid starting point. Just as Roger and Pete are still rocking out, there's no doubt in my mind that John and Keith are headlining their own great gig in the sky.
(04/08/04 4:00am)
The Who hold a very special place in my heart. Their 1971 masterpiece, Who's Next, was the first pre-Dookie disc I ever purchased. This compilation, the fifth or sixth of its kind, showcases one of the most dominant bands in rock history. Roger Daltrey was the swaggering frontman long before Robert Plant. Pete Townshend is the soul. His guitar was less instrument and more spiritual conduit. John Entwistle and Keith Moon brought everything back down to Earth with the most frantic and explosive rhythm section imaginable.\nThe Who's two primary strengths were their powerful live performances (they are often cited as the greatest live band of their era) and crafting heady concept records (Tommy, Quadrophenia, The Who By Numbers). However, they certainly had their share of stunning singles, most of which are included in this set.\nOther than the two new recordings included here, which would still hold up well on a Pete Townshend solo album, all 18 tracks on this disc are revelatory. Starting with their mod beginnings, careening through their reign as rock royalty and coming to a halt as they became elder statesmen, this set, thankfully presented in chronological order, resembles getting caught up in a tornado, riding it out and being let down to the ground softly.\nIf you've never discovered the sheer force which is The Who, Then and Now! 1964-2004 is a solid starting point. Just as Roger and Pete are still rocking out, there's no doubt in my mind that John and Keith are headlining their own great gig in the sky.
(04/08/04 4:00am)
Tobe Hooper's 1974 film, "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre," is the great-grandfather of the modern horror genre. Four full years before John Carpenter's "Halloween," "Chainsaw," loosely based on the true story of serial killer Ed Gein, broke open the gates for the common hack 'n' slash flick. It is horror's holy grail.\nThat being said, a remake of this film is essentially futile. First-time director Marcus Nispel makes a valiant effort tackling the source material, but the task at hand is simply too hefty. The result is a mildly pleasing scary movie with far more style than substance. It's basically an unmuddied update of a classic film too gritty and low-budget for most younger viewers.\nThe new "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" concerns a group of five young adults in the early 1970s on a road trip through rural Texas on their way to a Skynyrd concert. A few chance encounters place them in the sadistic hands of a chainsaw-wielding maniac and his deeply disturbed family. What ensues is a mish-mash of bludgeonings and dismemberments which eventually add up to a few satisfactory scares.\nOne and two disc versions are available. While the single disc skimps on extras, the double disc is jam-packed. An alternate opening and closing, a plethora of deleted scenes and a massive documentary on the making of the film are major bonuses, but the most important extra is "Gein: The Ghoul of Plainfield." A compelling doc exploring the killer on which the film is based, "Gein" is far more chilling than the feature film itself.\nIt's hardly a compliment to say that the best thing about the new "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" is ogling Jessica Biel in tight jeans and a midriff-bearing tank top, but I can definitely recommend this film for anyone in the mood for formulaic fright.
(04/01/04 5:00am)
It always happens when I see an R-rated movie in the theater. A parent will inevitably bring their child in tow, most likely in lieu of hiring a babysitter. Last week, during a screening of Dawn of the Dead, I couldn't stop watching the interaction between a mother and her son who looked about 8 years old. The child cheered as blood and guts were spilled, and his mother looked at him as if to say "how silly." Midway through the film, there is a short shot of a man and a woman engaging in near-pornographic sex. This shot, upon flashing to the screen, caused the mother to hide her son's eyes with much haste. Did she think seeing a graphically depicted sex act was going to harm her son more than seeing dozens of gunshots to the head and utterances of curse words?\nLet us quickly revisit the already clichéd topic of this year's Super Bowl. As America was collectively glued to the television screen watching one of the most brutal sports in modern times, interspersed with advertisements for alcohol, anti-tobacco propaganda and the Bush re-election campaign, a breast was bared. This breast set off a firestorm of controversy which managed, above all things, to get Howard Stern's classic radio program pulled from many markets. Why was it that no one seemed to care about the countless number of times the two teams' coaches were shown on the sidelines mouthing the word "fuck?" \nWhat is it about the current American culture which has us glorifying death, destruction and profanity, all the while hating and fearing our own bodies and the effect their exposition has on youth? Could it be the stagnant remnants of the Puritan ideology? Be reminded that the Puritans treated sex and nudity as a crime, while gleefully killing Native Americans because they believed it to be God's will. As Hugh Hefner states in his "Playboy Philosophy" (originally published December 1962), "It has long seemed quite incredible -- indeed incomprehensible -- to us that detailed descriptions of murder, which is a crime, are acceptable in our art and literature, while detailed descriptions of sex, which is not a crime, are prohibited. It is as if our society puts hate above love and favors death over life."\nThe Motion Picture Association of America's rating system has molded itself to fit the current national ideology on all things considered obscene. Violence and profanity will never again tag a film with an NC-17 rating. Films like Kill Bill and The Passion of the Christ can pour on brutal violence with no fear of being banned from most national theaters, yet a film like Bernardo Bertolucci's The Dreamers is withheld from national release due to a couple sex scenes and full-frontal nudity shots. This is the sexual revolution of the 1960's in the process of implosion.\nBut let's get back to Howard Stern for a minute. Which is more dangerous to the public? A left-leaning radio program, such as Stern's, which takes humorous jabs at topics ranging from sex to race to flatulating little persons, or a radically right-wing radio show like that of Dr. Laura Schlessinger, which practically preaches intolerance and spite towards anyone who doesn't agree with the host's views? Upon reading Al Franken's latest satirical masterwork "Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them: A Fair and Balanced Look at the Right," it seems clearer than ever to me that this nation's moral leaders are more concerned with pushing their own twisted, First Amendment damning agendas than with actually doing anything positive for the nation itself.\nI was raised in a household where R-rated films and MTV were an accepted form of entertainment. I recall seeing Schindler's List at age 11. Am I scarred for life because of it? I certainly don't think so. In fact, I feel, if it has any effect on me, it at least made me understand and accept the ways of the world at a younger age than most. What often happens when parents shelter their children from the outside world is that when their child actually encounters the real world, they go off the deep end.\nA society in which Toby Keith can release an album aggressively advocating the invasion and conquer of foreign nations to little media resistance, yet Bill O'Reilly can lambaste rap star Ludacris for lyrics he believes are scarring the minds of children, is a society which needs to re-evaluate itself (and maybe consider seeking some new leadership). We certainly don't want to become the next Roman Empire, falling due to our own excesses, but let us not repeat the mistakes of those folks in Salem, Mass. in 1692, who vilified and demonized for all the wrong reasons.