261 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
(11/29/07 5:00am)
In its fourth LP The Black and White Album, The Hives' similarities to the Ramones travel to another, deeper level. Sure, both groups are known for short, sharp bursts of garage rock, tongue-in-cheeek antisocial lyrics, stage names and band uniforms -- but, with The Black and White Album, The Hives have even followed the Ramones' career path. \nIn 1979, desperate for mainstream success, the Ramones turned to legendary producer Phil Spector to handle their fifth studio album. End of the Century saw the Ramones broaden its sound into early-'60s-style pop, but it wasn't the breakthrough they'd hoped for (supposedly the sessions were a disaster, with Spector pulling a gun on Dee Dee Ramone at one point). Likewise, with The Black and White Album, The Hives have attempted to break free from the garage and enlisted big-time production talent to do it (Pharrell Williams, Jacknife Lee and Dennis Herring). But the result, again, falls short of complete success.\nFor The Black and White Album's first five tracks, The Hives unquestionably deliver the goods, with "Try It Again" being an absolutely stunning single (if you don't fall for its buzzsaw guitar riff and cheerleader-chanted chorus, check your pulse). But then things get weird. The instrumental "A Stroll Through Hive Manor Corridors," with its eerie, slow keyboard run, is not only skip-worthy, it kills the hip-shakin' mood. And afterward, the songs become hit or miss. They mostly work -- even, I'd argue, the funk-flavored "T.H.E.H.I.V.E.S." (which other critics have maligned) -- but the piano-driven creeper "Puppet On A String" (reminiscent of The Who's "Boris The Spider") again dampens the fun, and the disco-esque track "Giddy Up!" is downright awful. \nStill, for its missteps, The Black and White Album shows some encouraging signs for The Hives' future. As great as its first three albums were, the band's consistency was turning into sameness -- with The Black and White Album, it has shown it can escape that trap.
(11/26/07 12:41am)
Apparently, we’re doomed… Again. And this time it’s the astrophysicists’ fault.\nOn Wednesday, the London Telegraph reported that in an upcoming article in New Scientist, physicists Lawrence Krauss and James Dent claim that by observing evidence of dark matter in a 1998 project measuring the light from supernova, scientists might have shortened the lifespan of the universe. They reached this conclusion via a convoluted process of reasoning based on concepts from quantum physics that I am far too stupid to understand, much less explain them to you. All I know is it involves Schrodinger’s cat, the quantum Zeno effect, the universe’s expansion since the Big Bang and the idea that by observing something often enough, you can change its behavior. (Feel free to write in and complain that I’m an idiot for not comprehending all this – as you can see from the mugshot above, I was hired for looks, not brains, anyway.)\nBut I don’t think you have to be a quantum physicist to follow the thought that occurred to me after reading this revelation. I’m not a religious person; however, I’m open to the possibility that there might be a higher power, a divine being, a creator, a god or gods who built and run the celestial clock. And I’m sure he/she/it/they are very impressive if he/she/it/they exist. But if you can break the universe just by measuring some light… Well, that’s some pretty lousy craftsmanship right there, and I think we should demand a refund or replacement.\nLook at it this way: If a gentle summer breeze knocked your house down, would you just shrug and say “Oh well, I guess it wasn’t built to withstand the awesome force of two miles-per-hour winds”? Or how about if it just imploded one day because some physicist looked at it? Hell no! – one call to a lawyer, and you’d have the builders in court for fraud, reckless endangerment and mental anguish.\n“But,” some of you might say, “we didn’t pay anything for this universe – it was a gift.” To that, the answer, quite simply, is “Bull.” We might not have made a monetary payment for this universe (unless you’re Rupert Murdoch) – but we more than earned our place in it through time and labor. We devoted our entire lives to it, taking part in its workings, no matter how inane, and obeying its strict physical laws with little complaint (despite how lame this can’t-go-faster-than-the-speed-of-light malarkey is). Indeed, if humans did break creation by attempting to observe its workings, we did so only in the course of fulfilling our assigned role as a sentient and self-aware bit of the universe – and if the job was left up to, say, comets, banana slugs or boron atoms, they’d do the same thing. \nSo, if the universe is really falling apart, then its time to put our collective foot down: No worship, sacrifices, rituals or devotions until we get a new universe… A better universe… One where columnists are considered sexy.
(11/18/07 11:22pm)
Break doesn’t start until after the last class Tuesday, but this is IU, and that means almost no undergraduate student is going to stick around for one little dollop of education when they could be at home playing “Halo 3” instead of sitting in their dorm room … um … playing “Halo 3.” So, that means that this is a rare opportunity to talk about all the stuff that we can’t discuss when they’re here:\n• For starters, due to cold weather conditions, the Faculty-Administration All-Campus Rave has been moved from the circle around Showalter Fountain to the indoor football practice field at Mellencamp Pavillion. All other plans, however, remain unchanged. Don’t forget to stock up on glowsticks, body paint and vitamin C. And there will be foam cannons, so avoid wearing clothing that might react badly to soap and water. Also, keep in mind that the artificial turf will be slippery. Thanks again to DJ Dean McKaig for turning down the offer of a three-day residency at Ibiza’s famous DC10 to spin for us here in Bloomington.\n• As some of you might have noticed, the north side of the Indiana Memorial Union has begun to sag slightly. This is due to a small leak that has developed behind the bushes next to the IU Bookstore entrance. Thus, over break, the IMU will be shut down briefly for patching and re-inflation. We apologize for the inconvenience, but promise that the Union will be 25 percent more bouncy by next weekend.\n• In other maintenance news, all School of Informatics faculty should report to the Office of Academic Affairs for annual tune-ups and battery replacement. We understand that you’re very busy at this time of year, but this measure is necessary not only to ensure that the school is working at maximum efficiency, but that its warranty is not voided by the manufacturer. And, besides, no one wants to see a repeat of 2005’s “destroy all humans” incident. \n• Without undergrad vehicles clogging the streets and parking lots of Bloomington, starting Tuesday faculty will be able to drive their University-issued Ferraris without fear of scratches or dings. Parking Enforcement will be on the lookout for the best custom job, so get them out there and “flash your pimpitude.”\n• Friday afternoon, join the Department of Facilities in the Arboretum for this year’s ceremony of devotion to Greenus, god of landscaping. An ancient and venerable tradition that ensures the IU campus’ pleasing aesthetic, the ceremony features dancing, costumes, incense and wine spiced with all-natural psychotropic substances. The ritual’s culmination is the sacrifice of a virgin selected at random from the rolls of the University Graduate School. Which department will have the honor of offering up a grad student to secure Greenus’ favor? Only one way to find out!\nAnd with all that covered, everyone should get out there and enjoy their holiday to the fullest possible extent. After all, it’s only a short time until the undergrads return and mess everything up again.
(11/12/07 12:41am)
As usual, your generation is poised to let everyone down.\nA recent report by the Center for Information and Research on Civic Learning and Engagement and the Charles F. Kettering Foundation has concluded that the Millennial Generation (people born after 1985) is disinterested in national, partisan politics, but is just gagging to get involved with local civic initiatives. The survey of 386 students at 12 campuses, in 47 focus groups found that unlike Generation X – my own generation, surveyed by the Kettering Foundation in 1993 (and given a much better name) – you Millennials are “neither cynical nor highly individualistic” and “seek ways to engage politically,” if not in polarized, party-politics terms.\nNow, I can understand being alienated and wanting to leave the mire of national politics to the low creatures who love to slop around in it. Smart choice – who cares what Congress is bickering about today? But this tendency towards local do-goodery is disturbing.\nAs a member of a secret global consortium of powerful, moneyed elites, I appreciate your getting out of the way when it comes to our efforts to manipulate national and international events to our benefit – best leave things to the knowledgeable (if, evil) experts, after all. But as the late speaker of the House of Representatives, Tip O’Neill, once said: “All politics is local.” And your altruistic efforts to “promote change” and “make a difference” are getting in the way of our plans to build a dystopian world fit for the rule of our shadowy reptilian overlords from beyond the known universe. In other words, you’re acting as the poop in the punch bowl – and while our guests of honor might consume live rats as canapés, I don’t think their palates are quite that flexible.\nThus, we need you to adjust your attitudes.\nThe most important thing you need to understand is that you can’t really change things – nothing important, anyway. Poverty, ignorance, hatred, violence – these have existed since time immemorial (due, in no small part, to our efforts). It’s all human nature – albeit facilitated by the occasional lizardoid-directed intercession. And reading to the blind, raising money to preserve a historical site or organizing a basketball league for disadvantaged youth isn’t going to change that.\nOnce you realize that you can’t change the world, you’ll discover your true number-one priority: individual advancement. Sure, helping people might “feel good,” but so does a vibrating easy chair positioned in front of a 63-inch flat-panel plasma TV. And, believe me, there’s no better friend to have in your corner than a sinister, worldwide network that bends heads of state to its will. (And we’re currently soliciting applications for student interns. Go-getters with experience in spreadsheets and Web design are preferred.)\nFortunately, there is one saving grace to your generation: For all your professed interest in making a difference, many of you never leave your Xboxes and go out to do anything besides getting beer and burritos. And for that, I (and my inhuman masters) thank you.
(11/08/07 5:00am)
The second album from Bloomington-based five-piece husband&wife, 2006's Operation: Surgery shows the benefits of the band's experience in touring and gigging (not to mention professional-quality production), but it also reveals that h&w has a fair distance left to go before it stands a chance of rocking the foundations of Pitchfork -- or whatever the indie measure for "the big time" is nowadays. \nAkin to Death Cab For Cutie, h&w offers up sensitive, melancholy guitar-rock that is very much the soundtrack to standing outside your ex significant other's house, wearing a hoodie and sobbing (in an angst-y way, that is, rather than a stalker-y way). The problem, though, is that Operation so closely and consistently reproduces this feeling that it becomes about as enjoyable. For all its lovely melodic passages -- and there are plenty -- the album suffers from an overwhelming drabness. Its leaden pace and lack of compelling hooks lead it to shuffle past the listener without ever providing the connection necessary to achieve emotional catharsis. And like pre-Transatlanticism Death Cab, the differences between many of the tracks are so subtle that they create the feeling of half the album merely being one long song (but without the aforementioned hooks or Death Cab frontman Ben Gibbard's vibrant lyrical imagery).\nThus, whenever something peeks out of the uniform murk, it becomes a highlight of the album. Such moments include the bursts of percussive energy in "Battlecab Dramatica," "Did I Not Tell You" and "The Direction We Never Went" -- the first being the most affective thanks to its combination of this much-needed jolt with a sweet guitar tune and sing-along group vocals. However, the single finest moment on Operation is "You Remain Unloved," a stripped-down combination of acoustic guitar, dual-vocal harmony, vivid lyrics and a chorus that the listener gets a chance to grasp before the song is over.\nSuch moments show plenty of talent, and the musicianship is lovely -- now all husband&wife needs to do is compose songs that catch and hold their listeners' attention.
(11/06/07 1:11am)
Now that we’re rested up from winter break and we’ve had all the eggnog and gingerbread people we can stand, it’s time that we made a campus-wide New Year’s resolution to…\nWhat? It’s only Nov. 6?\nOkay, I know it’s a cliché to complain about the fact that Christmas comes earlier every year (“What happened to Thanksgiving? Blah, blah, blah.”), but this season has finally crossed the line between irritating overzealous enthusiasm and utter gibbering madness. And it’s time we finally did something about it.\nUsually it’s the retailers who are to blame for this – and, indeed, in the course of assembling this year’s Halloween costume, I found all the big box stores were already stocking up on Christmas decorations. But this year there’s an even more egregious offender; a cynically run, nihilistic industry that manages to survive despite widespread public disdain. No, not oil, tobacco or the airlines – I’m talking about commercial terrestrial radio. \nWhen Kansas City, Mo.’s, Star 102 switched over to Christmas music on the morning of Halloween, it caused a bit of an Internet stir. And on Friday, when Chicago’s WLIT-FM launched into Christmas music a week before schedule in a bid to pre-empt a local competitor (whose threat to go Christmas early may or may not have been a bluff), it received notice in the Chicago Tribune. But those of us within signal range of Indianapolis know who the worst offender is. As part of its plan to reshuffle its broadcast content, WIBC (93.1 FM) began playing Christmas music Oct. 8. OCTOBER BLOODY EIGHTH! WIBC’s slogan? “The 93 Days of Christmas.”\nNo. Just no. This cannot stand. I will not celebrate Christmas over the course of more than a quarter of the damned year. The only people with that kind of holiday spirit should be dosed with Thorazine and locked in a padded cell before they molest children and strangle prostitutes. \nBut what can one do about it? Unfortunately, my most obvious means of protest against accelerating the season are rather hollow. I can threaten not to listen to WIBC – but I wouldn’t listen to them anyway, since they’d otherwise be broadcasting lame talk radio programming. I can refuse to do any Christmas shopping until after Thanksgiving – but, as a grad student, my finances wouldn’t permit me to shop early even if I wanted to. My weapons as a consumer are limited.\nBut I do have one recourse left. You know all that peace on earth, goodwill toward men business? Not from me, not yet. I’m not being nice to anyone until after Thanksgiving (and I’m not even being thankful until the week before Thanksgiving break). No helping neighbors (unless it’s helping them stay on their own property), no spreading cheer (unless said cheer serves my strict self-interest) and no feeding orphans (unless they’re baboons). Screw you people – it’s bad enough being nice to you for 12 straight days, much less 93. Bah humbug (‘til Nov. 22, anyway).
(10/28/07 10:36pm)
This is probably bad for business, but events this week have moved me to offer up a bit of advice to government officials, executives, celebrities and anyone else who might find themselves on the receiving end of bad press: Roll with it. \nMake your counter-arguments, issue apologies, change your ways, do public relations damage control, whatever – just don’t try to stonewall the press. Because we’re living in a world of low-cost, lightning-fast, deeply interconnected media today, and all it takes is one tiny pebble of suppression to trigger a landslide of damaging publicity far worse than even if you had not responded. I offer up two recent cases:\nThe first, and already most notorious, is the Federal Emergency Management Agency’s attempt to stage a phony press conference. Last Tuesday, FEMA deputy administrator Adm. Harvey E. Johnson held a televised press briefing to tout the agency’s progress in fighting the wildfires raging across California. Well and good. But unfortunately for FEMA, Al Kamen’s Friday Washington Post column exposed the fact that “the press” questioning Johnson appears to have been made up of FEMA’s deputy director of external affairs, deputy director of public affairs, director of external affairs and an agency press aide – who asked challenging questions like “Are you happy with FEMA’s response so far?” Reporters not on the federal payroll were notified of the briefing a mere 15 minutes before it occurred, and were only allowed to listen in on a telephone line, not ask questions. Secretary of Homeland Security Michael Chertoff has gone on record as saying that heads will roll over this incident – but, of course, the damage is already done. Incredible as it seems FEMA (and the current executive branch) has managed to look even more like a pack of monkeys.\nBut, in terms of needless self-injury, the John Edwards presidential campaign actually managed to top FEMA. On Friday, associate professor C.A. Tuggle of the University of North Carolina announced to the press that the Edwards campaign had attempted to snuff out a mildly-critical story done by UNC’s student television station. In the segment, the reporter interviewed a columnist from UNC’s student newspaper who criticized the Edwards camp for placing its headquarters in a ritzy Chapel Hill shopping center, as well as an Edwards campaign worker who justified the decision. No big deal, right? But the campaign staff, who assumed they were getting a simple puff piece, were so incensed by the clip after it was uploaded on YouTube, they threatened to block all UNC student reporters and groups from future access to Edwards if the story wasn’t buried. The result? You’re now reading about the story here – as are the readers of the New York Times, Washington Post, the Associated Press, etc.\nSo, in short, the lesson is simple: There are plenty of things you can do to try to manipulate the press (and the IU Journalism School’s public relations courses will teach you how), but snuff it out? You’d have better luck with those wildfires.
(10/25/07 4:00am)
Band of Horses might have committed one of the most egregious "sellout" sins in recent rock history (licensing last album's monster standout tune "The Funeral" to Wal-Mart for an online ad selling camcorders), and frontman Ben Bridwell might have yelled at a fan for having the temerity to record a shaky cell-phone video of one of the band's performances. But while one might question BoH's adherence to indie's DIY values, the quality of its second and latest album Cease To Begin is more difficult to dispute. \nWhile Cease doesn't quite capture the magic of the best moments on 2006's Everything All The Time, it comes fairly close, and the album only falls short by expending all its best tracks in act one.\nCease opens with an absolutely stunning trifecta of songs. "Is There A Ghost" starts off with a combination of guitar strums and Bridwell's voice, which sounds like it's emanating from the core of the earth. Then, upon reaching the one-minute mark, the song erupts into a hammering torrent of drums and guitars. "Ode to LRC" is a grand anthem with loping guitars and languid vocals -- the signature sound that brought BoH to everyone's attention in the first place. And "No One's Gonna Love You" is a sweet, slow, romantic number that could soundtrack the last dance at an indie-rock prom. But nothing else measures up to this opening -- and for the rest of the album, interesting tunes ("The General Specific," "Islands On The Coast," "Marry Song," "Cigarettes, Wedding Bands") are countered almost tit-for-tat by retreads ("Detlef Schrempf," "Window Blues") or filler ("Lamb On The Lam (In The City)").\nStill, the album has plenty to enjoy. Check it out before any of its tunes end up soundtracking Viagra commercials.
(10/25/07 4:00am)
Accounts vary, but the basic story goes something like this:\nOn a back road off Old Highway 37 north of Bloomington, in the depths of the Morgan-Monroe State Forest, lies Stepp Cemetery. Ancient and abandoned, its origins obscure, Stepp is rumored to have been a place of dark deeds and strange rituals -- a place where the veil separating the living from the dead sometimes lifts. \nIn the midst of Stepp's sprawling weeds and crumbling graves stands a worn tree stump. If you visit this stump under the light of a full moon, you will find the woman in black. Her hair turned white, her misty form rising from the earth, she sits upon the stump waiting, eternally patient. Is she protecting the grave of a loved one? Is she looking for her lost child? Is she seeking revenge? No one presumably sticks around to find out.\nSo, WEEKEND decided to ask her. \nWith an expedition of four reporters and two photographers, we traveled out to Stepp, winding our way through the murky woods until we came to the gate marking the mouth of the cemetery's path. And what did we find there by the side of the road?\nA pair of abandoned flip-flops.\nOK, so we didn't see a damn thing -- and not because we didn't try. We wandered through the cemetery, we visited the stump (and sat on it!), we laid down and played dead to see if the supposed inhabitants would accept us as their own. We did everything short of insulting the ghosts' mothers. All we found were some late 19th-early 20th century gravestones with amusingly old-fashioned names (Orestes? Seriously?) and an "abandoned" cemetery that was still reasonably well-tended and maintained. Oh, and on the way out, we ran into some other young people who were on their way in (much to the shock of at least one member of our party, who emitted a wonderfully loud "Waugggh!" and leapt three feet into the air upon encountering them).\nThus, thwarted in our effort to commune with the other side, we fell back on a time-honored journalistic practice: We consulted the experts. \n"Do ghosts exist?" we asked. \nRead what they had to say and decide for yourself.
(10/25/07 4:00am)
For Greg Wilson, it started with an attic door. When he and his wife moved into their new house in the early '90s, they found that, despite the fact that the door could only be opened by pushing it upward into the ceiling, it would not stay closed. Even after changing the house's locks, they would find it open. \n"That's when I thought maybe something paranormal was going on in the house," Wilson said.\nHis experiences and a shared love for the paranormal-themed radio program "Coast to Coast AM" led Wilson and his brothers to found Hoosier Paranormal two years ago. Based in Columbus, Ind., Hoosier Paranormal is one of dozens of paranormal-investigation groups active throughout Indiana, most of which share a goal of gathering scientific evidence for the existence of ghosts.\n"We can only consider something evidence if it stands on its own," said Todd Phelps of the Indianapolis-based group Indiana Scientific Paranormal Investigators.\nThe groups simultaneously seek out mundane explanations for mysterious happenings (whether, say, a phantom moan is actually noisy plumbing) and attempt to record any ghost activity using infrared video cameras, electromagnetic-field detectors, audio recorders and other equipment. Wilson explained that elecromagnetic-field detectors and other electronic devices react to ghosts because, in attempting to communicate with the living, they draw energy from their surroundings. Out of these efforts, Phelps said that seemingly the most common source of evidence is electronic voice phenomena.\n"An EVP (electronic voice phenomenon) is a recording of some voice or sound that was not heard at the time of the recording and cannot be accounted for," he said. To capture EVPs, investigators ask the supposed entity a question, then later analyze the recording to see if they received a response.\nMike Weides of the Bloomington chapter of Indiana Ghost Trackers said, beyond the technology, an investigation can involve extensive research and interviews.\n"One looks into the history of events surrounding both location and occupants in an attempt to find the underlying cause of the haunted activity," he said.\nDriven by curiosity rather than profit, Hoosier Paranormal, IGT Bloomington and Indiana-SPI all perform free, confidential investigations and do not offer to rid a location of ghosts -- merely to help the living understand them.\n"Some people golf, some ride roller coasters," Weides said, "We like to spend our time in haunted locations, searching out things that go bump in the night"
(10/21/07 11:39pm)
Halloween proper might not be until the middle of next week, but we all know that it’s this weekend that really matters. (It’s a bit difficult to party on a Wednesday. Not that you shouldn’t try – this is IU, after all.) Thus, you should start working on your costume immediately, if you haven’t already. \nUndoubtedly, some of you topical types are going to want to dress up like the candidates for the 2008 presidential election. But there’s a bit of a problem: How will people know who you are? I don’t just mean that people are ignorant about the election campaign. You’re going to have to deal with the fact that, after you put on a charcoal gray suit and power tie (unless you’re Hillary Clinton) and a little flag lapel pin (unless you’re Barack Obama), you could be any of the candidates. Not to mention that this all sounds a bit boring. So, how do you distinguish yourself? Well, here are a few ideas.\n• Hillary Clinton: Besides wearing a tasteful pant-suit, you’ll want to spend a couple of hours before the party in a meat locker in order to bring your blood temperature down to about 36 degrees. (Disclaimer: If you’re human, this might kill you.) Also, consider concealing a dagger for use on your enemies, friends and anyone who gets in your way.\n• Barack Obama: First order of business: WORK THOSE ABS! (Those of you who’ve seen Obama’s beach pictures know what I’m talking about.) Afterwards, don’t forget your congressional nametag with “trainee” written on it. If you knock over someone’s beer, explain that you’re really sorry and it’s your first day on the campaign.\n• John Edwards: For God’s sake, don’t let anyone touch the hair. Buy a $1,500 Armani suit and say you got it at the Goodwill. Claim that if people vote for you, no pumpkins will ever be smashed again and all the candy will be full-sized.\n• Rudy Guliani: Declare that Halloween is nowhere near as scary as Sept. 11 – and repeat this at least every 10 minutes. If you see any jaywalkers, litterbugs, smokers or people walking with open containers, call the cops on them.\n• Mitt Romney: Wear flip-flops or a reversible jacket. Duh.\n• Fred Thompson: Besides sticking cotton balls in your cheeks to get the jowls right, tell everyone that you’re a “real conservative.” If they ask what that means, provide a funny anecdote about the day Ice-T dropped his bean burrito in the NBC commissary. And if you go to the party with a date, make sure she wears a push-up bra.\n• Ron Paul: The easiest costume of all: stay home and spend the whole evening playing World of Warcraft and arguing on message boards.\nAnd if none of these costume ideas seem particularly appealing, you can always go as the New Hampshire primary – show up at the party 12 hours early, make a big ruckus, then promptly be forgotten.
(10/18/07 4:00am)
ver the years, Elvis Costello has recorded, by various turns, country, folk, blues, jazz, soul and Brill Building pop. And that's all well and good -- but what if you just want to hear him rock? Then you should get This Year's Model.\nReleased in 1978, This Year's Model is Costello's second album and the first with his former backing band The Attractions. And while the album art has Costello sporting his iconic suit, tie and clunky glasses, make no mistake: This is a stone-cold classic punk album. \nNow, we're not talking about the hardcore three-chord assault that descended from the Ramones and early The Clash. TYM is closer to early New York punk (Richard Hell & the Voidoids, Patti Smith, Television, Blondie, etc.) and post-Sex Pistols British punk (London Calling-era Clash, the Buzzcocks, Wire). That is to say, its pallet is broader, incorporating electric organ, funky bass, crooning and even a slow tune ("Little Triggers"). But it doesn't deviate far -- no song surpasses four minutes, the energy is furious and, more importantly, so is Costello. \nHis voice may be smooth, but his lyrics rage at those two great punk muses: bad sex and a bad society. Regarding the former, Costello seethes with frustration, alternately flinging withering barbs and threatening come-ons. In "Pump It Up," he sings: "She's been a bad girl / She's like a chemical / Though you try to stop it / She's like a narcotic / You wanna torture her / You wanna talk to her / All the things you bought for her / Putting up your temp'rature." As for the latter, Costello blasts the media in particular, decrying advertising in "This Year's Girl" and radio commercialization in the anthem "Radio, Radio." \nAnd, yet, you'll find yourself singing along with it in the shower. That's what makes for a rock masterpiece.
(10/18/07 4:00am)
"Blowin' In The Wind" from The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan (1963)
(10/14/07 10:08pm)
This weekend, I went to a camping party. Escaping from the revelry for a little while, I found a quiet place, listened to the sounds of the woods around me, stared up at a night sky packed full of brilliant stars and marveled at the wonders of nature.\nThen, rather than try sleep on the cold, hard ground, I went home and had a wonderful night’s rest on the soft bed in my climate-controlled apartment. \nNow, not to disparage anyone’s love of the great outdoors, but this got me thinking about how, as a human, I’m grateful for our ancestors’ efforts toward insulating us from the elements. Over thousands of years, we’ve moved from caves and trees to secure, comfortable dwellings; we’ve gone from hunting and gathering to establishing a reliable and plentiful food supply; we’ve clobbered our predators and we’ve significantly extended our life spans. Not that it has been an unblemished record of success (and I’m sure some enterprising reader will see fit to detail the low points for us), nor has it been uniform (there are, after all, a lot of people without the blessings that we take for granted) – but I certainly wouldn’t exchange my lifestyle for that of a person 100 years ago, much less 1,000 or 10,000 years ago.\nAll this is at the center of a debate that has been swirling in environmental circles since 2004, when Ted Nordhaus and Michael Shellenberger published an essay titled “The Death of Environmentalism.” Now, the debate is rolling again, with the recent publication of their book “Break Through: From The Death of Environmentalism to the Politics of Possibility.” Nordhaus and Shellenberger have criticized much of the environmental movement’s approach to global warming, saying that it has focused on humans as an alien bane against nature which must be constrained through lower living standards to prevent an apocalypse. Instead, they argue that humanity is just another part of nature, which reacts to the environment in the same way as any other species, by adapting to it or manipulating it for our benefit.\nThus, global warming is still a problem – threatening to change the environment in ways hostile to our survival – but the solution comes in harnessing our ability to innovate and change conditions, rather than turning the clock back to a less favorable lifestyle that emitted less carbon dioxide. To this effect, they have recommended a moon-race-style program of government investment to spur markets to develop lower-emission, more efficient technology, rather than regulations to limit energy consumption.\nWhile I’m sure Nordhaus, Shellenberger and myself would find plenty to argue over – but, as I sit in my well-lit, 72-degree habitat with my coffee imported from some distant place, staring at the electric-powered device that brings me information on any topic from every far corner of the world, I must say I’m inclined toward their approach.
(10/08/07 12:43pm)
This month, an incredible amount of great live music is coming to Bloomington and the surrounding area – so much so that I’ve taken to calling it “Rocktober” (often with a simulated echo, and always to the embarrassment of everyone around me). Rather than list everything that’s coming up, I’ll just point you to the Indiana Daily Student’s Happenings page. Suffice it to say, if you don’t find something to attend in October, either you have no music in your soul or you’re under 21. (To quote the immortal Nelson Muntz, “Ha ha!”)\nBut this isn’t merely a plea for participation – it’s a plea to change how you participate. After many shows, I’ve found that my love of live music has been tempered by my bitter hatred of the jackasses in the crowd. This is not to say that everyone, or even most people, are jackasses, nor do I consider eccentric but harmless behavior to be jackassery. (That one weird guy in the front of indie rock crowds who dances like crazy while everyone else just stands with arms crossed, nodding their heads? As long as he isn’t bumping into people, I say, “Bless ’im.”) \nNo, jackassery is engaging in behavior that seriously prevents others from enjoying the show. And, at the risk of idealism, I suspect that most jackassery comes from a lack of self-awareness rather than malevolence. Thus, for the sake of our shared love of live music, and for the sake of my not getting arrested for slugging people at shows, here are some suggestions to make our lives better – and possibly longer.\n• Please be aware of the short people. I’m five-foot-six and, thus, nearly every concert is spent peering around the behemoths in front of me. I know that you can’t help being tall, but there are still things you could do. \nFor example, don’t stand in the very front row when you can see perfectly from a couple of rows back, or don’t stand next to your tall buddies so that you form an impenetrable wall for everyone behind you. And when you get excited, watch your arms.\n• Don’t touch strangers if you can help it. It’s one thing if a venue’s crowded, but when there’s space and you’re still poking someone you don’t know, that’s really creepy.\n• Don’t come late and push your way to the front. I’ve seen this borderline-malevolent jackassery quickly turn crowds ugly. For the sake of your teeth, don’t do it. \n• If there are seats, don’t stand up unless it’s a standing ovation. You can be excited sitting down.\n• Bathe before you go to the show. Oh, please God, bathe.\n• If you’re not there to listen to the music, go to the back of the crowd. You can chat almost anywhere; why choose the middle of a rock concert?\nSo c’mon, let’s all enjoy Rocktober together, because who knows when we’ll see another month like this one.
(10/04/07 4:00am)
It's a bit hard to hate on the Foo Fighters. Not merely because front man Dave Grohl has a reputation for being one of the nicest guys in rock. But because, for those of us who remember the early '90s alternative revolution and who were crushed when it was co-opted and replaced by moronic nu-metal and post-grunge, the Foos seem like the torchbearers for the good old days. \nHere in the late noughties, however, that flame doesn't seem so bright. That's partly because there's a lot of great rock around (even if it almost never gets mainstream airplay), but unfortunately, it's also because the Foos are stuck in a rut.\nTaken as a whole, Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace is better than 2005's In Your Honor -- not least because it's shorter and lacks IYH's awkward electric-acoustic division. But it suffers from a similar problem in that the Foos try again to go emo -- that is, crank out screamy angst and sobby ballads -- and, again, manage merely to lower themselves into the dull, mechanical, cliched ranks of nearly everything else on modern-rock radio.\nNot everything suffers from this treatment, though. Indeed, you can divide ESPG into three acts. The first, from "The Pretender" through "Erase Replace" is all formulaic scream-fests. The third, from "Ballad Of The Beaconsfield Miners" through "Home" is admirable, but is also comprised of somewhat boring ballads (although "But, Honestly" stands out from this act, not only because it is a good, stripped-down acoustic number but also for its glorious transition into unabashed arena rock). \nHowever, act two, from "Long Road To Ruin" to "Summer's End," manages to shake off the tedium and deliver the Foos you love to love -- hooky, exciting, fun. Its finest moment is the bouncing buzzsaw-guitar anthem "Cheer Up Boys (Your Makeup Is Running)." \nOf course, thanks to online music stores, you can simply buy act two (swapping out the merely OK "Come Alive" for the superior "But Honestly") and have a nice little EP for about half the price of ESPG. Not living in the "good old days" sometimes has its advantages.
(10/04/07 4:00am)
Yo La Tengo has a reputation as a critics' band -- a band beloved by only a small, intense cult of music geeks. Let's change that.\nOn Oct. 10, they will perform a special, mostly acoustic "storytelling" show at the Buskirk-Chumley Theater. And you should be there. Not because it will better your musical taste or earn you indie cred, but because Yo La Tengo's music is too good to stay the province of an elite few.\nBut what if you're not one of the aforementioned music geeks? What if you're not familiar with Yo La Tengo? Doesn't matter. Let this brief primer serve as your gateway.
(10/01/07 2:36am)
The latest edition of the Columbia Journalism Review contains a feature by Bree Nordenson calling for news outlets to be government-subsidized. See, newsgathering is expensive, and the Internet is reducing newspapers’ revenues – because it increases competition between papers, making it hard to charge subscription fees; and because Web sites like Craigslist siphon off advertising. Thus, rather than adapt our business models to this growing trend, why not get the government to pony up some cash? It works for farmers, defense industries and Amtrak, right? And PBS and NPR are never pressured by the government, are they?\nSome journalists might be nervous about this idea – that whole “the free press is a check on government power, so we shouldn’t give it financial control over us, blah, blah, blah” thing. But me, I’m always up to make a quick buck. And so, this column is brought to you by the generosity of Uncle Sam. I’m sure you will find it meets the same high standards seen here every week.\n(Hello, this is Dweezil Daneeka, assistant deputy chief, Media Bureau of the Federal Communications Commission. In the interest of serving the American taxpayer, this column has been placed under FCC regulatory authority to ensure that it conforms to federal statutes regarding the content of publicly-supported speech. This, however, should in no way be confused with censorship. Instead, it is merely the official examination of this column and the suppression of parts deemed unacceptable. Thank you for understanding.)\nNow, last Thursday, the Democrat-controlled Senate attached a new piece of hate crime legislation to a bill funding the troops in Iraq. If signed, the new law would expand the definition of a hate crime to include attacks on gays and lesbians. But what this move really shows is that the Democrats are more concerned about pre-2008 posturing than governing.\n(FCC statutes regarding obscenity, indecency and profanity have required some modifications to the following paragraph.)\nNow, don’t get me wrong. I don’t care if you prefer (wee-wees) or (hoo-has) – as long as it involves consenting adults, your (lovin’) is your business. But hate crime legislation violates the principle of equal protection under the law. All violent crimes should be prosecuted harshly, not parceled out by George (hoo-ha) or (wee-wee) Cheney. This is merely a ploy to help the Senate’s Democratic presidential hopefuls – and Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama can kiss my (behind).\n(The equal time provision requires that we inform you that Rudy Giuliani, John McCain, Fred Thompson, John Edwards and Ron Paul can also pucker up.)\nIf the Democrats are serious about national security, they need to either support the war effort or withdraw the military from Iraq. Of course, the best solution is obvious ... (Passage redacted for reasons of national security).\nIn short, it’s just like the old joke about the nun and the liontamer. The nun asks the liontamer why he’s carrying a whip, and he says “I have a big hairy beast that needs taming.” In response, the nun says “Oh, I know just what you mean ... ”\n(Punchline redacted for reasons of not being funny.)
(09/27/07 4:00am)
James Blunt is back for your mom ... Well, her pocketbook, anyway.\nIf nothing else, one has to admire the focus, the determination, the singular pursuit of this goal in Blunt's sophomore album All The Lost Souls. Much like Coldplay's X&Y, Lost Souls is a study in disciplined mediocrity, but with a narrower end: It's a precisely calibrated, fastidiously crafted device for the delicate operation of separating your mom from $10 plus tax. \nTake, for example, all the touchstones nicked from other pop songs -- the references to "shining on," to sprouting wings and flying away; the "Hey Jude"-like sing-along at the end of "Give Me Some Love." Or take the fact that it starts with a nostalgic tune about nights spent clubbing in 1973 ("1973") and concludes by name-dropping "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" in "I Can't Hear The Music." Blunt even learns from Coldplay's mistake, injecting a bit (just a bit) of edge into the mix: the "I've taken a shitload of drugs" line in the chorus of "Give Me Some Love," a hint of anti-war/social criticism in "I Really Want You," a mention of cutting himself in "Same Mistake," etc. See, smooth James knows the ol' lady likes a bit of excitement (and, if not, she can get the edited version from Wal-Mart). \nAnd yet, despite occasional "bad boy" lyrics, Lost Souls makes Blunt's 2005 debut Back To Bedlam sound adventurous by comparison. In nearly every track, quiet piano or guitar open; percussion, additional vocals and instruments are added; things build until roughly two-thirds of the way through when an orchestral Wall of Sound breaks out. And what Blunt's lyrics lack in originality, they make up for in repetition. If you didn't think a lyric was interesting at first, wait 'til you hear it, or a virtually identical lyric, 11 more times (as in "Shine On"). \nThis is all very dull but never objectionable (as long as you don't think about it too much). However, as a good son or daughter, you should prevail upon your mom to simply buy one track and put it on repeat -- it's the same experience, and she'll save $9.
(09/23/07 11:12pm)
In 2003, millions of people placed their phone numbers on the federal “Do Not Call” list to prevent telemarketers from contacting them. What many might not realize, however, is that membership on the list must be renewed after five years – and that if they don’t re-register by going to http://www.donotcall.gov or by calling 1-888-382-1222, their numbers will become publicly available again.\nThus, this seems like an appropriate time to issue a plea from the bottom of my heart to you, the good men and women of America: Please, please, please don’t renew your status on the “Do Not Call” list! If you do, you’ll never find out about the exciting offers that I have for you.\nFor example, how will you ever find out about my low, low prices on quality aluminum siding? Or get a free estimate from one my highly trained customer service representatives? Or take advantage of the fast installation provided by my national network of professional, licensed, non-organized-crime-affiliated contractors? Or, for that matter, receive a five-year guarantee* against rusting, bowing, cracking or peeling? (*Disclaimer: five year guarantee not guaranteed for five years.) Right now, you might have no idea what some rugged, stylish aluminum siding could do for the property value of your home, apartment or dorm room – and you never will, if you put your number on that list.\nAnd if you sign up to the “Do Not Call” list, you’ll never find out about all the exciting singles just waiting to talk to you for the bargain price of $3.99 for the first minute, and 99 cents for each additional minute. Lonely? Disappointed with the bar scene? Just can’t seem to meet the right person? You could be poised to meet fun, local singles just like yourself – as long as you stay off the list. But, then again, maybe you’re happy with the prospect of dying alone.\nAnd, really, are you happy with your long distance phone service? How do you know that you’re getting the lowest rates for calls to United States and Canada? Does your long-distance plan truly fit with your lifestyle? Does it offer you competitive rates on nights and weekends? If you love your friends and family, I think you’ll want to hear about any opportunity to talk to them for longer – but, hey, that’s just me. \nFinally, if you won’t stay off the list for your own sake or mine, do it for the fine people of Vientiane, Laos. I have established a call center in downtown Vientiane with the finest international staff available (for about 36 cents an hour). Why, you ask? No, not to take advantage of the political oppression or dubious enforcement of workers’ rights laws – rather, it’s to serve you better. I have heard your complaints about telemarketers calling during dinner time – when someone phones around 5 to 7 p.m., no product sounds good. Fortunately, Vientiane is 12 hours ahead of the eastern U.S. Eastern Time Zone – putting Laotian dinner at 5 to 7 a.m. our time. You should be home around then, right?