Common Terry

My Sound Decisions: The Ten Best Albums of 2011

2011-12-25T21:05:00.000-08:00

Last year, my friend Jen Baron posted an article on Facebook in which a famous musician — who it was, exactly, escapes me at the moment — makes the case that year end music lists are ridiculous. One of his points was that you can’t really make an educated decision because you can’t know all the albums in the running. And he’s right. For instance, I haven’t yet dug into Wild Flag enough to make educated assessment, but from what I’ve heard, it’s pretty great, and Guided by Voices just released an album a few days ago. Not nearly the time I need to make a call. (Yes, I am comfortable with being a slacker.) But when it comes to these lists, I don’t claim it to be the be all and end all, unlike Pitchfork, who actually does seem to be suggesting they are. So, as with past lists, keep a salt shaker at the ready, and watch your blood pressure.

That said, from what I heard, it was a good year. A very good year, early on. You know it has the potential to be a monster year when Radiohead, TV on the Radio, and REM all release albums in the first few months. All of them very good to excellent.

And while I’m on the subject of REM, for the purposes of this list, I’ve disqualified them. Collapse Into Now was, as we all now know, their final album. I’ve been an unapologetic fan for over half my life and I could have easily placed it in the top ten. Regardless of what many people would say — especially most of the 20-somethings I know — neither music nor musicians have an expiration date. But I’m aware that sentimentality could play a significant role. (I am, after all, Mr. Sentimental of LA County three years running.) Hence, the disqualification. Regardless, buy the album. I love it and I think that, at the very least, you’ll enjoy it. A fitting end to a storied career.

Well, then. Let’s get on with it.

10. The King Of Limbs - Radiohead

I waffled back and forth on this one. TKOL is more divisive than a Denver Broncos quarterback’s post-game interview. [timely football reference] It’s yet another giant step away from OK Computer and that pisses people off. This also means that, if you look in your rearview mirror, there’s virtually no trace of The Bends whatsoever. The problem: What we’re all looking for, really, is the same album over and over and over again. I’ve never understood an inflexible fan base but, okay, it’s not for me to understand. Admittedly, my first response to The King Of Limbs was, “Huh?” But after a couple weeks’ investment, it really opened up. Detractors will say that it’s no In Rainbows. Good. They’ve already made In Rainbows. This is a different album; a great album that's as challenging as it is entertaining. If you don’t believe me, listen to Ferrel with headphones.

Standout track: Codex

9. Only In Dreams - Dum Dum Girls

2011’s best-of list is loaded with thoughtful, brooding albums. This one’s on it too. Only In Dreams is an album that makes me want to be unproductive. And I believe I’ve achieved that goal. (I'll cross “be unproductive” off my list, but later. Tomorrow, maybe. Or not.) I defy you to listen to Bedroom Eyes three times in a row and not be hooked. You can’t, can you? Unlike the argument I make with TKOL about musical evolution being good, I’m okay with this being the same album as I Will Be, which made last year’s list. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that I’m in love with the drummer. Has my hypocrisy let you down? Really? Yeah, well, I try not to let that stuff get to me.

Standout track: Bedroom Eyes

8. Smoke Ring For My Halo - Kurt Vile

Kurt Vile is a songwriter. I don’t get the classification. Artists like Paul Simon and Gordon Lightfoot have always been referred to as songwriters, but isn’t any musician or band who writes their own stuff a “songwriter”? I suppose if we’re talking about a solitary singer/musician, we’re talking songwriter. So, okay, Kurt Vile is a songwriter of very, very good songs. And the songs on Smoke Ring For My Halo are better than very, very good. (Must… resist... urge... to do... Frosted Flakes™ ad.) At times, it seems like this is an… I don’t know… an “obvious” album, meaning it’s was the natural progression for Kurt Vile. “And,” to quote Daniel Tosh, “for that, we thank you.”

Standout track: Baby’s Arms

7. Past Life Martyred Saints - EMA

Who’s up for songs penned by a young, angry lesbian? I AM!!! I AM!!! Well— Isn’t everyone?? This is a gem. I had never heard of EMA (aka Erika M. Anderson) before this album, but upon first listen, it drew me in like an artist drawing something in. Real in. (And reel in.) Maybe partly due to the fact that she sings at barely a whisper in some of the tracks and you have to lean in to listen. Or maybe it’s because her lyrics are raw and nervy, including, “I wish that every time he touched me left a mark” and the simple, sledgehammer opening to California, “Fuck California, you made me boring.” She ain’t from the cast of the Mickey Mouse Club, that’s for damn sure. Nor, it goes without saying, is she from the Playboy Club. Actually, she’s from South Dakota.

Standout track: California

6. The Year Of Hibernation - Youth Lagoon

What do you do when you’re 22 years old and living in Boise, Idaho? Evidently, if you’re Trevor Powers (no relation to Kenny as far as I know), you make an exceptional album. His voice can best be described as young Neil Young — Not to be confused with young Karl Jung. Musically, The Year Of Hibernation feels a little Galaxie 500-ish, but maybe a little more sparse. Perhaps he was influenced by his surroundings, I don’t know. I’ve never been to Boise, but I’m assuming “teeming metropolis” isn’t a description that leaps to mind for visitors. Sonically, it feels as though you’re in his parents’ garage at 2:00 in the morning, and that’s a good thing. 22 years and already he’s making intimate, vulnerable music. Little bastard; I hate him. But love the album.

Standout track: 17

5. Badlands - Dirty Beaches

Dirty Beaches is one guy — A Canadian named Alex Hungtai. His album Badlands should be used for a David Lynch movie. Change nothing. Just release it as a soundtrack. It’s warped, creepy rockabilly music that would fit the bill if you were driving down a dark southwestern highway, with Sherilyn Fenn in your trunk and no cars in sight. Hungtai’s voice is vaguely reminiscent of Elvis Presley and his production sounds as though his engineer hasn’t graduated from the early cassettes on which Hungtai released his work exclusively. Normally, this would be a troublesome detail, but in this case, it’s oddly fortunate for anyone listening in. I can’t say enough good things about this album, but I will say it’s definitely for a very specific audience. I doubt most of you would blast it at your next barbecue. But you’d be missing out. Seriously. Life isn’t a Bud Light ad, is it? No, it is not.

Standout track: Lord Knows Best

4. David Comes To Life - Fucked Up

Lead singer Damian Abraham’s voice sounds like he’s perpetually yelling at the ref for a bad call on 3rd-and-long, with the playoffs on the line. [football reference #2] It takes a lot of patience for me to get familiar enough with Fucked Up’s music to judge it because I have to negotiate around that voice. But once negotiations have ended, I’m glad I took the time. David Comes To Life is something of a rock opera, and oddly, never makes mention of arcade games of any kind. (Amateurs.) It’s a narrative, but when it comes down to it, it’s really a hooky, powder keg of an album that makes me feel like I should be drinking a lot of beer with very, very smart people. I guess that’s always an option, but I quit a couple decades ago. Eh, screw it. Where’s the marshmallow vodka?

Standout track: Queen of Hearts

3. Let England Shake - PJ Harvey

Let England Shake is the perfect name for the album Let England Shake. To my ear, it sounds like what I would call “21st century apocalyptic.” (A genre that’s gonna sweep both sides of the Atlantic, just wait and see.) There’s an ominous tone to it from start to finish. Not the kind you experience when you look down at your watch only to realizing that you pulled into the McDonald’s drive-thru at 10:31 a.m. — Way worse. But even though its tone feels contemporary, Let England Shake is actually about London after the first World War. This may seem an antiquated topic to you and me, but to Britain, the ripple effects are still being felt today, even if barely noticeable. Though, I can’t speak to how late their McDonalds’ serve breakfast.

Standout track: The Last Living Rose

2. Bon Iver - Bon Iver

Bon Iver used to be a man. Bon Iver became a band. Bon Iver is now an album too. And it’s beautiful. That’s the word. Beautiful. You can throw “delicate” into the fold too. Justin Vernon specializes in songs that go hand in hand (in hand) with these descriptors. This album is so good, I don’t really know what to say about it. It speaks for itself. I want you to buy this album because, if you’re still reading, you deserve it.

Standout track: Holocene

1. Burst Apart - The Antlers

If you scan the music sites’ “Best of 2011” lists (I haven’t), I’m betting all the money in my pockets (I carry a debit card) this one isn’t in the #1 position. Nor is it likely in anyone’s top ten. This isn’t to say that I’m somehow in the know. It’s just a matter of taste. Mine might be atrocious and, here, you’ve spent all this time reading this blog. Despite this, I’ll press on: For my money, this is the best album of the year. Burst Apart is The Antlers’ third album and it’s an effin’ tremendous follow-up to 2009’s work of genius, Hospice. Like Hospice, the songs that make up the album cover some depressing, if not troubling topics, ranging from empty, loveless sex to putting down the family pet. Not exactly warm and cuddly, and very unlikely to be covered by teen idol X, Y, or Z, which is the mark of any great album. (I’m talkin’ to you, Roger Daltrey!) Yeah, this album is going to be ignored, and there’s a better than great chance that almost everyone will disagree with me. I mean, without question, enough people to fill all the stadiums of the National Football League. [third and final football reference] But I’m okay with that. I would think most of them haven’t listened to a note.

Standout track: I Don’t Want Love

In The Conversation

More great music. I always find it difficult to boil these lists down to 10 albums. Here are the other ones that could have made the cut, a few that should have made the cut, and one or two that I’ll be kicking myself over in two years.

(In no particular order.)

Helplessness Blues - Fleet Foxes

The follow-up to their self-titled debut, it could have easily been simply disc two of a double album. But so, so good.

Standout track: Bedouin Dress

Days - Real Estate

If Vampire Weekend didn’t suck, they still wouldn’t sound as good as this. I’m just sayin’. Vampire Weekend? So ridiculously overrated. Real Estate? Not. But there's a weird guitar-thingy that goes on that reminds me of VW's sound. Left-handed compliment, indeed.

Standout track: It’s Real

Father, Son, Holy Ghost - Girls

Girls often make me uneasy, but I love them. The same can be said for this band.

Standout track: Vomit

By The Hedge - Minks

It’s tough for me to put my finger on Minks. They have a bit of an Emo sound similar to Wild Nothing, but they definitely put their own spin on it. A good one.

Standout track: Out of Tune

Slave Ambient - The War On Drugs

‘Nother new band that I think is going to do great things. But then, I said that about U2, and they went nowhere fast.

Standout track: Baby Missiles

Nine Types Of Light - TV on the Radio

Always a great listen. I love TVOTR’s utterly TVOTR sound, and their albums usually end up in my top ten. There just happened to be some great music this year. One has to make the hard decisions.

Standout track: Repetition

Take Care, Take Care, Take Care - Explosions in the Sky

Explosions are criminally ignored. They deserve to be heard. And not just in a movie soundtrack like Friday Night Lights. Take Care, Take Care, Take Care is a great example why. With music this powerful, who needs a singer? Not Explosions In The Sky.

Standout track: Trembling Hands

Strange Mercy - St. Vincent

I’m fairly certain this will fall under the category of albums I’ll be kicking myself over in two years. It takes a long time for me to dig into St. Vincent’s albums. But, oh, how I love Annie Clark. I’d love her to be my latex salesman.

Standout track: Cruel

Metals - Feist

Metals is a very Feist album. And what do you say about a Feist album? It’s feisty, I guess. And it’s good because her voice is feisty too.

Standout track: How Come You Never Go There

So then, that’s this year’s list. Nothing left to say but hello, EMA, Youth Lagoon, War On Drugs, Minks, Real Estate, and Dirty Beaches. Goodbye, REM.

Yeah, well, y'know, this is just, like, uh, my opinion, man: the top 10 albums of 2010

2010-12-19T11:33:00.000-08:00

...Or so says El Duderino. (I’m not in to the whole brevity thing.)

I’m a sucker for great packaging. I suppose you can blame my history in advertising or my lifelong obsession with design, but I appreciate the details in which, I’ve been told, God lives.

I mention this because, while 2010 has been a tremendous year for new music, it’s also been a big year for reissues. As I write this, within eyeshot are the reissues of The Stones’ Exile On Main Street, and Springsteen’s Darkness On The Edge Of Town. Both were so well executed, I ended up devoting a good chunk of time getting reacquainted with the original albums and outtakes, as well as digging into some impressive packaging. (I covet the hell out of Bowie’s Station To Station box too.) These should not be ignored just because they were released decades ago, you agist bastards, so when you get the time, circle back and check them out.

Right. Enough sentimentality and insults. On to the past 12 months.

This year’s list was a difficult one to come to. This, despite the bad grammar, is an understatement. As per usual, it’s a top ten with five runners-up, but I could have easily added to it. The list of ten is rock-solid and any of the five that follow could have easily made the cut.

Okay, then. Let’s go.

10. Arcade Fire - The Suburbs

Let me begin by saying Win Butler needs to calm the fuck down. Seriously. Get a haircut and calm the fuck down, Win Butler. I’ll pay for it. (The cut, not the therapy.) Y’see, I really do like Arcade Fire when I don’t have to actually look at Arcade Fire. Win and his wife always look as if 10,000 infants will somehow perish if they don’t perform their songs. Maybe they should stop giving away plastic bags at their shows. Those bags are not toys. Having said that, their grating intensity onstage serves them well in the studio. The Suburbs is what you’d expect from them but in a good way. It’s a very good Arcade Fire album which makes it good enough to crack the ten. As a collection of songs, it feels like they’re building on Neon Bible and taking it a few steps further. Effective baby steps, indeed.

Standout track: City With No Children

9. Dum Dum Girls - I Will Be

A lo-fi dream come true. (I had my first lo-fi dream when I was 13. It was confusing. Nevertheless…) Tuth be told, it’s not entirely lo-fi. It just lingers along the edge. In fact, it’s a strange hybrid. It’s as if Phil Spector took off his wig, put down his gun and took Dum Dum Girls to a recording studio back in the 60’s. Weird, right? But lead singer Dee-Dee sites both The Ramones and The Ronettes as two major influences. These songs are tight and catchier than a catchy thing and, trust me, you’ll be happy to catch their debut virus.

Standout track: Bhang Bhang, I’m A Burnout

8. LCD Soundsystem - This Is Happening

Admittedly, This Is Happening didn’t really get a good listen until recently. I can’t count myself as being a huge LCD Soundstystem fan. Chalk it up to the seizure-inducing Tribulations. (LCD Soundsystem, I want to love you, but you bring me down.) Whatever the reason, I couldn’t get my head around it. In fact, I hated it the first five or six times I played it all the way through. But the more I listen to it, the more I’m realizing it deserves to be on this list. It just keeps getting better. Why? Well, that’s the thing about LCD Soundsystem. Much like the conclusion of most of my dates, I can’t put my finger on it. So it’s best to not ask why.

Standout track: All I want

7. Jonsi - Go

Leafing through one of the gazillion racks of CDs at Amoeba, I casually asked mine friend Jim what he thought of this album. HIs response? “It’s exactly what I’d expect, which means it’s gorgeous.” I couldn’t have said it better. Jonsi is best known as the singer and driving force of Sigur Ros, whom I invariably place on these lists with each new release. Go isn’t really a sea change from what fans have come to expect from his day job — delicate yet powerful arrangements and soaring crescendos, mainly. What it does offer is, however, exceedingly helpful to singing along: English. Real, live English that people in Kentucky would understand were they inclined to listen to musicians outside of our freedom-loving nation. Clearly, foreign musicians hate freedom, being that they weren’t born here. Circling back, suffice it to say, Icelandic isn’t a language offered in the Mt. Lebanon School District’s curriculum. Criminal, I’d say.

Standout track: Go Do

6. Four Tet - “There Is Love In You”

There are a lot of people who like to argue that “electronic” music has no soul. Anyone with the aforementioned point of view should listen to track 8 on Radiohead’s Kid A (and maybe consider attending the upcoming book burning in Yazoo, Mississippi). If that doesn’t do the trick, the opening track of There Is Love In You should. It’s made up of mostly sampling and is entirely beautiful. This album is one of those surprise releases for me; you won’t see many albums of this genre on my ten best lists. Because electronic music has no soul. Wait— What??

Standout Track: Angel Echoes

5. Superchunk - Majesty Shredding

A couple years ago, when Portishead released Third after an eleven year hiatus, I was nervous. I sought no therapy, yet have made a full recovery. Though I still shake when I see poodles. I have no explanation for this. Anyway. Bands who take so much time off don’t often bounce back with an inspired effort. Like Michael Jordan and Brett Favre, once you’re retired, you should stay retired. Thankfully, Superchunk don’t enjoy sports, as far as I’m aware. Majesty Shredding is so… Superchunk. These songs still have the grrrrr! of Slack Motherfucker and Precision Auto and prove that there are no rules when it comes to music. Though, I’m pretty sure that it’s considered unsportsmanlike conduct if one texts a picture of one’s junk to a sideline reporter. I’ll ask around to verify.

Standout track: My Gap Feels Weird

4. Belle & Sebastian - Write About Love

“Yeah, we get it, you like Belle & Sebastian.” This, I imagine, is what my close friends are saying upon seeing B&S in the number four position. My response? Yeah. I do. You want to argue it, make your own damn list. Stop judging me!!!! This is — as with past lists — like that one time in band camp!!! All this being very odd because I never attended band camp. And although I have no idea whether or not Stuart Murdoch attended band camp, if he did, then, money well spent. He and his friends have released a really great album featuring some of the best polyphony I’ve heard. And while that probably sounds like a tame, uninspired way to describe an album so high on such a list, I think it’s all that needs to be said. After all, Belle & Sebastian don’t rock hard, they don't pen provocative lyrics and they don’t bite the heads off of anything, except during Easter. They just make really great albums. With some of the best polyphony I’ve heard.

Standout track: I Didn’t See It Coming

3. Beach House - Teen Dream

Advice to any musicians out there: When performing for a large audience, don’t repeatedly apologize for playing new songs. It turns people off and makes them not want to buy the album. It also makes the audience fidgety because they came to see Grizzly Bear and not an apologetic singer. I know this because it’s exactly what I experienced at the Palladium last year. Having written them off, I was surprised when Mr. Craig Seder sang their praises. (It wasn’t so much singing; it was more like spoken word in that he spoke the words.) After speaking, he gave me the album and I was subsequently blown away. Sooooo good. Its retro feel actually serves the songs rather than detracts from them. Each track, whether true or not, seems elementary, but I don’t want to listen to a 17-minute keyboard solo. This is not a Yes concert. It’s music for which no one should apologize.

Standout track: Zebra

2. Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest

Jim: Have you heard the new Deerhunter?
Me: Not yet. I’ve been meaning to. Is it good?
Jim: Holy shit.

This, the only endorsement I needed to go to the “D” section, then lay down my cash (debit card). All I need to say is, “Holy shit.” But you’ve met me. Have you ever known me to say more than two words on anything? I mean, other than an insult? No. No, you have not. This album is so good that it’s all a standout track. The songs range from kind of creepy to Bobby Sherman. (Well, not quite. But still.) This is unquestionably Deerhunter’s best work, which makes it worth more than the cash (debit card) I paid for it. The cover, however, creeps me out to no end.

Standout track: Desire Lines

1. Wild Nothing - Gemini

Who the hell is Wild Nothing? After months of listening, to me this is like saying, “Who the hell is Joe Greene?” (Pittsburghers will get it.) This album, to my ear, is 1989 - 1993. Yes, you can hear their influences, but with songs this great, I couldn’t care less. (See what I did there? "Couldn’t" v. "Could?") That’s what Gemini does. It makes you turn a phrase correctly. Or maybe it doesn’t. What I’m sure it does do is make you glad you listened to the critics and blindly bought it. Every time I consider listening to this, I think, “Yeah, that’s a good one. I’ll listen to that.” Then I click the arrow and think, “Man, this is an outstanding one!” I mean, every time. You may just do the same, blindly or otherwise. But not deafly. I mean… Y’know…

Oh! They also released a great E.P — Golden Haze. Also pretty brilliant.

Standout track: Summer Holiday

honorable mention

Best Coast - Crazy For You

Feels a bit like a sister album to Dum Dum Girls. Catchy as hell. And at this moment, I’m considering switching the two. Feels kind of like an injustice that it’s not up there, wedged in at #8. But, alas, I must stick to the rules I’ve set in place. I’m a tyrant.

Standout track: Crazy For You

Meursault - All Creatures Will Make Merry

“Is the Arcade Fire album that good?" "Was Phosphorescent’s release better?” These are the kinds of questions that swim in my head when I begin compiling these lists. (No, I don’t really take it as seriously as it sounds, but I do think on it extensively.) The real question should be, “Why the hell doesn’t anyone know about these guys??” Meursault is a new band for me and their album blew me away. They’re from Scotland and, therefore, not crap. This is putting it mildly. You know that moment when an album opens up for you and your brain really latches onto the melodies? When that happened with All Creatures Will Make Merry, I was sure very little could top it. Buy this album.

Standout track: Crank Solutions

Phosphorescent - Here’s To Taking It Easy

I can’t remember what drew me to this one, but I was immediately glad I gave it a listen. Phosphorescent has somehow managed to make the best Wilco album since Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. It’s a series of well-crafted songs wedged between two locations, opening with It’s Hard To Be Humble (When You’re From Alabama) and closing out with Los Angeles. (They’re from neither; they’re from Athens, Georgia and are now Brooklynites.) The latter track offers the line that resonates most with me: “I ain’t came to Los Angeles just to die.” Amen, Brother Houck. Amen.

Standout track: Los Angeles

Local Natives - Gorilla Manner

This album was on repeat for about three straight weeks. I’m happy to have found it. Though, I must admit, it loses points for a not-so-great cover of Talking Heads’ Warning Sign. Y’just don’t fuck with the classics. And if you’re going to? Make damn sure you have it down. I’m just sayin’.

Standout track: Shape Shifter

The National - High Violet

Not exactly Mr. Irrelevant. In comparison to “Boxer?” This one’s no slouch.

Standout track: Anyone’s Ghost

A final thought.

It isn’t often you get to become friends with one of your idols, much less four, but many years back, that’s what happened to me. To this day, I believe that one of the best albums ever made is Surprise, Surprise, Surprise, from New Haven, Connecticut natives Miracle Legion.

Few people bothered to put the needle to the vinyl to find out for themselves because few people knew about it, except for a pretty decent following in England. (Radiohead’s Thom Yorke sites singer Mark Mulcahy as one of his biggest influences.) Fitting that London is where I should become friends with them. I had just flown in for my second tour of duty at a Hampstead Heath Youth Hostel a week prior to an REM show, for which seemingly everyone was trying to get a ticket. In the lobby, before said show, I ran into Miracle Legion’s very jet lagged guitarist Mr. Ray Neal. I asked him where he was staying. Turns out he had no idea. And so began a summer of providing the band with a home base for their European tour. Every week or so, they’d stay at the hostel for a few days, then dash off to Amsterdam and Paris and Berlin and anywhere there was anyone who would listen. For a fan, it was a dream come true.

On the December 14th, Mark released Surprise, Surprise, Surprise on mp3. Being that the only CDs of Surprise were made Japan, copies were hard to come by and so I’ve gone a long time without the album being a staple on my rotation. Listening to it today, I’m reminded of that summer in London and my time with the band, so it obviously has a special place in my heart. But you don’t have to have had a history with Mark, Ray, Dave and Scott to enjoy its brilliance.

This is my highest recommendation this year. Hands down. You can’t get it on iTunes (yet), so the only way to downloaded it is from the site below. If you make the $10 investment, you will be rewarded.

Standout track: Crooked Path
(One of many.)

http://miraclelegion.bandcamp.com/album/surprise-surprise-surprise?autoplay=true

Enjoy the music, all. And let the debate begin.

::

the 30 best of the past decade

2010-01-01T04:31:00.000-08:00

Before Steve Jobs, there were these things called "CDs." And before CDs, there were "albums" and Memorex "tapes" of albums which, we were told, were killing the music industry. But I'll get back to that.

I’ve been accused of appreciating the wrong albums. “Why,” I’m asked, “would you like ‘Neon Bible’ over “Funeral??’” “You’re not saying that you like ‘Elephant’ more than ‘De Stijl,’ are you??” Yes. Yes I am. That’s the thing about these lists. It's why I love ‘em. They trigger a dialogue about music. And I love to hear a rousing approval or heated retort. I always get something from them, either way.

Some of these albums [or "LPs"] will make the music snobs that I love say to me, “You mean your list includes…???” Yes. Yes it does. Why? It all depends on where you were at the time. I guess you just had to be there too.

30. Jon Brion - "Meaningless"

Okay. I'm kicking this list off with a kind of a "Huh...?" In fact, when I first heard this album, I didn't really like it much. But I'm not just being a contrarian, I think it's amazing. [Craig? It's also fantastic.] I've chronicled my love of Jon Brion before. Specifically the fact that I think he's the best live show I've ever seen. [Stop by Largo on La Cienega on most Friday nights and you'll see why.] And I'll admit that those shows are a big influence on "Meaningless" making my top 30. Jon Brion produces Aimee Mann's albums as well as a couple Fiona Apple's, so if you like those two, sonically speaking, you'll like the feel of this one.

Standout track: "Ruin My Day"

29. Andrew Bird - "Armchair Apocrypha"

Andrew Bird — or, as I like to call him, Andrew Bird — is probably the smartest composer on this list. And if he's not, he's missing a huge opportunity to be. He mixes infectious hooks with gorgeous arrangements. Plus, few have the ability to make the violin and whistling a big part of their stylings. So that's nice. Oh. And if you get a second, check out his performances on "La Blogoteque" [I'd say one of the best sites ever]. http://www.blogotheque.net/Andrew-Bird,2968

Standout track: "Scythian Empires"

28. Badly Drawn Boy - “The Hour Of Bewilderbeast”

I think "Bewilderbeast" is just plain underappreciated. When it came out back in 2000, it got tons of buzz. [I’m not sure how one measures buzz — tons? Yards? Weeks? Anyway...] To my ear, it’s very British. But not obviously so. Not tea and crumpets and bad teeth and thinly veiled embarrassment. It’s a great album and deserves to be on everyone’s list.

Standout track: “Once Around The Block”

27. The National - “Boxer”

A beautiful and unexpected album. Give it a listen, and a listen, and a listen. You start to pick up the details. Another brilliant opening track in “Fake Empire.”

Standout track: “Start A War”

26. The Magnetic Fields - “69 Love Songs”

How do I love yinz? Leave me count the ways. [Something for the Pittsburghers who happen to be reading.] 69 songs, 69 interpretations of love. If you know it, you know there's no album like it, and you’ll like it if you don’t know it. Yeah. Try following that.

Standout track: “Yeah! Oh, Yeah!”

25. Okkervil River - “The Stage Names”

Okkervil River had one hell of a great decade. This, along with “Black Sheep Boy,” “The Stand Ins,” and “Don’t Fall In Love With Everyone You See” make for an incredible string of home runs, you have to wonder when they’re going to slip-up. Or if they ever will.

Standout track: “Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe”

24. Explosions In The Sky - “The Earth Is Not A Cold Dead Place”

This one probably isn’t on many lists. It’s on mine because, apart from being an outstanding album, it’s also one that I’ve loved writing to. In a way, it’s kind of my writing soundtrack. There’s something great about a band that can rivet you without singing a single note.

Standout track: “First Breath After Coma”

23. The Antlers - “Hospice”

I just think I’m going to look back on "Hospice" and it’ll still be on this list. It’s a gamble but, hey, I’m willing to take it. Fearless, I am.

Standout Track: “Two” (see “Hear, Here”)

22. Belle & Sebastian - “The Life Pursuit”

Anytime I listen to "The Life Pursuit," I’m in New York in November. I’m walking down Bleeker, on my way to the Blind Tiger; I’m finishing my day, walking through Times Square, heading back to the hotel; I’m watching Christmas lights go up in Columbus Circle.

Standout track: “Another Sunny Day”

21. PJ Harvey - “Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea”

What can I say, I adore Polly Jean.

Love “Dry,”
love “Rid Of Me,”
love “Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea.”
[Like poetry.]

Much poppier than her previous and hooky enough to be on repeat for quite some time.

Standout track: “The Mess We’re In”

20. Bloc Party - “Silent Alarm”

This album? Fan-bloody-tastic. The opening track? Fu-bloody-king tremendous. Makes me want to fly to London and see ‘em live, even today. Raw energy and emotion in every song.

Standout track: “Like Eating Glass”

19. Grizzly Bear - “Veckatimest”

This year’s best album. A lock for this list. It’s one of those albums that carves itself into your brain from listen one. I gushed about it in “Hear, Here.”

Standout track: “Two Weeks”

18. TV On The Radio - “Dear Science,”

“Cookie Mountain” is one of my favorites, but this one isn’t far behind. TVOTR are putting out such innovative yet catchy music, you just can’t ignore them. This one’s a bit more accessible than the aforementioned, yet doesn’t lose any of it’s we're-gonna-do-whatever-the-fuck-we-want attitude.

Standout track: “Stork & Owl”

17. Spoon - “Kill The Moonlight”

First time I heard Spoon, they were opening for Guided By Voices. And I gotta say, they didn’t grab me as a great live band. That said, for his ability to write a damn fine song? Britt Daniel should be in the Smithsonian. This album is just one reason why. “Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga” is another. So much so, it was a candidate for this list.

Standout track: “Stay Don’t Go”

16. Bon Iver - “For Emma, Forever Ago”

Justin Vernon has a gift. He can break your heart in just a few sparse notes. And you have to love him for that. I think that when I look back, this one will have grown in importance.

Standout track: “Skinny Love”

15. The White Stripes - “Elephant”

What a decade for these two. “De Stijl” in 2000? “White Blood Cells” in 2001? You’re kidding me, right? I mean, I see one hiccup in the decade [not too big on “Get Behind Me Satan,” but it’s still pretty good]. For me, this is one loud high point. More importantly, "Elephant" has had a major impact on college football fans throughout the country. Where would marching bands be without the bass line for "Seven Nation Army?"

Standout track: “There’s No Home For You Here”

14. Neko Case - “Furnace Room Lullaby”

Three notes into this one and you’ll know why. This woman is a freak of nature. What a voice. “FRL” is one damn fine alt-country album. ‘Least that’s how I hear it.

Standout track: “Set Out Running”

13. Fleet Foxes (self-titled)

These guys came out of nowhere. And Seattle. Which is actually in the Pacific Northwest, for those of you scoring at home [or even if you’re alone]. Anyhow, I’m glad they did because this album is full of great harmonies and the like. And I like.

Standout track: “Ragged Wood”

12. The Strokes - “Is This It?”

Good question, better album.

Standout track: “Last Nite”

11. Johnny Cash - “American IV: The Man Comes Around”

The first music I can ever recall is Johnny Cash. My father’s a big fan. Justifiably so. This was the last album he released in his lifetime and he finished with a bang. On it, he flat-out stole “Hurt” from Trent Reznor. But in my opinion, one of the overlooked highlights is his cover of The Beatles’ “In My Life.” Sounds like a farewell to me.

Standout track: “The Man Comes Around”

10. Sigur Ros - “Takk…”

This is another of those perfect albums. The right intersection of time and space. And these guys allowed us to use one of the more amazing tracks of the decade for my trailer — “Hoppípolla.” Makes you feel like you could fly. Plus, it made for a great evening with Seif. Thank you, Iceland!

Standout track: “Glósóli”

9. Interpol - “Turn On The Bright Lights”

This one drips New York City. [Not as gross as you’d think. Besides, they have penicillin for it.] This one was strangely difficult for me to get into at first. But when I did? Yowzah! It should be placed in a time capsule.

Standout track: “NYC”

8. Elliott Smith - “Figure 8”

This album has a place in my heart in part because of the Halloween show I saw at CMU. I didn’t want to go. The previous week, I had learned that my grandmother had two weeks to live. My parents felt that I needed a break from my day-long visits and encouraged me to go. Turns out they were right and Mr. Smith provided me with a gift.

Standout track: “LA”

7. Iron & Wine - “Creek Drank The Cradle”

Sam Beam’s voice and melodies paint a beautiful picture. Beautiful and bleak. Dark and soulful. He seems to make you lean in and linger on every word. It's almost eerie.

Standout track: “Upward Over The Mountain”

6. The Arcade Fire - “Neon Bible”

This is kind of the soundtrack of my move to LA. And as I alluded to in the intro to this list, it's usually not the first choice of most Arcade Fire fans. But it’s a perfect album in my good book.

Standout track: “My Body Is A Cage”

5. TV On The Radio - “Return To Cookie Mountain”

When I heard this, it was as if I was kicked in the head. In a good way. Y’know— without all of the bruising. Sonically different than just about anything ‘round. It holds a special place in my heart because they let me use “A Method” for my film’s soundtrack. [Buy. That. Track.]

Standout track: “Wolf Like Me”

4. Portishead - “Third”

So. Portishead. What’ve you been up to the last eleven years? Golfing, or…? "Third" [the 4th album on this list] isn't what most Portishead fans expected. In fact, some complained that it sounded soooo different from their other albums but, guys? Eleven years. Things happen. People change. And in this case, I believe for the better. Amazing album, start to finish.

Standout track: “The Rip”

3. Sufjan Stevens - “Come On Feel The Illinoise!”

Sheesh, I love this album. With vignettes of American history [well, Illinois, specifically], it feels like a musical interpretation of a Mark Twain novel or some such thing. And Sufjan sings each song with a delicate tone that suggests he's reading that novel to a group of children. Plus, there are those song titles. Love the whole thing like a really lovable thing.

Standout Track: “The Predatory Wasp Of The Palisades Is Out To Get Us!”

2. Wilco - “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot”

Somewhere, there’s a record label executive flipping burgers. How it’s possible that someone could shoot holes in an album of such genius is just... I don’t know. I’m getting emotional.

Standout track: “Poor Places”

1. Radiohead - “Kid A”
This is “stranded-on-a-deserted-island” material. A radio station in Pittsburgh played it in its entirety the day before it came out. I sat in my car outside of The Real McCoy in the South Side and listened from beginning to end. Even before it was finished, I knew this would end up being one of my all-time favorites. A worthy follow-up to “OK Computer.” Better, some might argue.

Standout track: “Idioteque”

So then. Am I on target? Am I deaf?

Oh, I'm sure there's a chance I'll kick myself for not including Antony & the Johnsons or I'll rethink that Morrissey album, but until then, this will do.

All of this said, what does your list look like?
::
::

hear, here - top albums of 2009

2009-12-13T18:39:00.000-08:00

This is the introduction to the Common-Terry 2009 Year in Music. It’s designed to pique your interest in my point of view. Do you care? Well, possibly not but, hey, you’re still reading, so I’ll just keep writing and you’ll stop when you stop. That said, this is just the introduction; why would you quit so soon? [You quitter, you.]

These lists are always tentative. Invariably, I look back and think, “Yyyyeah, no. Mr. Mister doesn’t really belong on that list,” or some such thing. And of course, there’s the music to which I haven’t yet been exposed or had the opportunity to really dig into [i.e. The Flaming Lips' "Embryonic"], so it ends up being a retroactive thing. Because there are always retroactive things. Ask anybody.

This has been the introduction to the Common-Terry 2009 Year in Music.

Thank you.

10. St. Vincent - “Actor”

It's always hard for me to decide on the ten spot [aka Mr. Irrelevant]. I waffle a lot. [What can I say? It’s my albatross.] You'd think I'd be more decisive being that the free world hangs in the balance. But no. I refer again to the waffling. That said, this year's waffles landed firmly on the head of St. Vincent. The reason this one edged out the others? Annie Clark writes symphonies. Not in the sense that they’re broad, sweeping compositions, but because, to my ear, they could successfully be performed by a philharmonic. Oddly, it also strikes me that she’s likely a student of Peter Gabriel’s early solo stuff. An interesting combination.

Standout track: “Actor Out of Work”

9. Sister Suvi - “Now I Am Champion”

If you lived in Pittsburgh in the early 90’s and followed the indie music scene… I’m sorry.

Wait. That thought took a wrong turn. Let me backpedal... With the aforementioned criteria in mind, you may remember a band called Wimp Factor 14. Wimp Factor had a tremendous lo-fi sound and whenever I listen to "Now I Am Champion," I'm reminded of it. But while Wimp Factor's sound was quirky, almost childlike, Sister Suvi’s gets in your face and makes sure you’re paying attention. On "I Am Champion," the band walks the fence between light and dark. It’s a balance that works well for them and “Now I Am Champion” is a terrific collection of tracks — one that I suspect would make a long-collapsed Pittsburgh ensemble proud. And, hey, how 'bout that cover art? My favorite of the year. No question.

Standout track: “Claymation”

8. The XX - “XX”

“XX” is a late entry. These guys do more with negative space than what metaphor?
A) An 11th century Chinese ink painter
B) Don Rickles
C) A New Orleans prostitute during Mardi Gras

Ha…! Gotcha! Trick question! A and C are the same thing.

Anyhow. There’s a wonderful economy of notes on this album, and I think it takes real bojangles for a band to go that route on their freshman release.

Standout track: “Heart Skipped a Beat”

7. Neko Case - “ Middle Cyclone”

As soon as I put the virtual needle to these mp3’s [I clicked the “play” icon] I was pretty sure this one would end up on this list — or at least teeter on the edge of it. Neko Case could sing the personal ads in the back of your local free newsweekly and make them sound beautiful. [“Thank yeww… This next song is called ‘Bi-Curious…’”] Few can boast a voice as powerful as hers [a fact that became clear when I saw her a couple years ago at the Henry Fonda]. On “Middle Cyclone,” she’s never been stronger. Like all Neko Case albums, each song on this one tells a story, and that’s something only a few songwriters can do successfully.

Standout track: “Never Turn Your Back On Mother Earth”

6. Phoenix - “Wolfgang Mozart Phoenix”

En un mot? Peppy. Non seulement les chansons amusantes, mais ils font aussi envie — acheter une Cadillac. Alors maintenant, les Français ont apporté au monde la démocratie, abandon, le ménage à trois, la langue française, et Phoenix. Alors, je crois que je vais le dire - la restitution “Wolfgang Mozart Phoenix.” Vous serez heureux vous.

Standout track: “1901”

5. Girls - “Album”

I like Girls. Yeah, I said it. In fact, I love ‘em. They’re awesome. They make me sing in my car. They make me think. And I hope to see them live and in person someday. They’re just a damn good band with a damn good album with a damn creative name. With songs like “Lust for Life” and “Big Bad Mean M**********r,” these guys show that they're adept at mixing a classic rock & roll structure with a high-volume, lo-fi sound. [Again, with the lo-fi. Somewhere Bob Pollard is smiling. And drinking. Heavily.] But Girls’ sound isn't lo-fi just for the sake of being lo-fi. I don’t think these songs would work nearly as well with a big production backing it. Unlike my first script. [Call me.]

Standout track: "Lust For Life"

4. The Pains Of Being Pure at Heart - “The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart”

The Jesus and Mary Chain called. They want their blah, blah, blah, blah. Being derivative is excusable if it works. This album is very, very excusable. A fantastic album and — to continue the trend — a lo-fi sound in line with Girls. I’ve had a crush on this one since the day I bought it [aptly, on Valentine’s Day]. Still a fan of that late-80’s sound? Buy this. And if you were, like, five years old at the time, buy it anyway. Then pick up “Psycho Candy.” Trust me on this.

Standout Track: “This Love Is Fucking Right!”

3. Antony & the Johnsons - “The Crying Light”

If you like your music with an “Oh-God-I’m-considering-cutting-myself” vibe, Antony & the Johnsons is the ensemble for you. If you like creepy, “I’m-now-afraid-of-old-people” album covers, “The Crying Light” is your album. Antony is known for delicate, thoughtful songs that have a way of getting under your skin, and this one is the rash you got that one time at summer camp, but in a good way. And if that doesn’t make sense, then you’ve not heard “The Crying Light.”

Standout track: “Kiss My Name”

2. The Antlers - “Hospice”

The story behind “Hospice” is heart-wrenching. The lyric, ”And you were brought into those rooms/With sliding curtains, shining children’s heads/And one of them, that boy/Was not as lucky as you then” makes this clear. “Hospice” is about a young girl suffering from terminal cancer. [Sadly, a true story.] One might expect the melodies throughout the album to be depressing and painful. And although there is an unavoidable pain woven into each track, some tracks have a delicate, achingly beautiful quality to them, others soaring and triumphant. Don’t deprive yourself of this one because of the subject matter. It’s too good to pass up.

Standout track: "Two"

1. Grizzly Bear - “Veckatimest”

Okay. How to follow that?

Well, in this case, you follow it with the year’s best: “Veckatimest.” From the almost-Jazzy opening notes of “Southern Point," it immediately struck me that this was an entirely different animal. [Pun absolutely, positively, shamelessly intended.] These guys have made a piece of music that is as challenging as it is entertaining. Plus, this one boasts what is, I believe, the best single of the year — “Two Weeks.” [If you’re hedging on whether or not to buy it, just fork over the 99¢. If you don’t like it, I’ll send you a check.] But admittedly, this album isn’t for everyone. It won’t be the adrenaline rush you need to jog that extra mile; it won’t be heard on 92% of the nation’s radio stations [I'm being kind]; and it won’t exactly get singer Ed Droste on the cover of “Tiger Beat” [a crime]. What it will do is give you 52 minutes of tremendous music. And isn’t that enough?

Standout track: “Foreground”

HONORABLE MENTION
Because there always is.

Yo La Tengo - “Popular Songs”

This is as good as Yo La Tengo has been since 1997’s “I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One.”

Morrissey - “Years Of Refusal”

Yes. I'm old. Sue me. And, y'know? I just gave this another listen through and it could easily have made the 10.

The Rural Alberta Advantage - “Hometowns”

Fantastic find. Honest and straightforward. But be careful. They’re… “Canadian.”

Ida Maria - “Fortress ‘round My Heart”

Were I in a frat, this would be on repeat. I love her Swedishosity and Swedaciousness. [She's Swedish.]

The Postmarks - “Memoirs At The End Of The World”

There's some serious harkening going on here. So, fans of harkening? Enjoy.

Camera Obscura - “My Maudlin Career”

You’d think they were chummy with Phil Spector. Except he’s in prison for murder. [What a jackass that guy turned out to be.]

Tiny Vipers - “Life On Earth”

Mazzy Star fans should just pick it up. No questions asked.

So then. That’s that on Hear, Here. I hope you'll give these albums a shot and if you do, I hope you like them. If you don't like them? Well, I suppose you'll be disappointed just like Tammy was last year. [I just had to, Tammy, I just had to.] If nothing more, the standout tracks might make a good playlist. Or not. It's your call.
::
::

my sound decisions - top 10 albums of 2008

2008-12-12T01:39:00.001-08:00

So these last few weeks, while watching football games on Fox - like, say, when the Steelers come back in the forth quarter to kick the Dallas Cryboys’ ass 20-13 - I see promos for “American Idol.” And I have to admit I just don’t get how so many people can pay so much attention to manufactured, corporate music when all they need to do is dig a little and they’ll get a seemingly endless pool of music that squashes anything you hear on “American Idol” like a grape.

Whatever, I’ll get past it.

2008 was a ridiculously great year for music. And just because an album didn’t make the list doesn’t necessarily mean I don't think it's worthy of a nod. [Unless we’re talking about 92% of you hear on the radio.] The ten that follow are a bottleneck of the best as I see it.

This list is largely comprised of albums that I never would have expected and blah, blah, blah… intro over. Let’s break it down, shall we?

10. The Last Shadow Puppets – “The Age Of Understatement”

If you prefer songs that are produced similar to those featured in the opening credits of a 1960’s James Bond film then, hell, this is your album. The Last Shadow Puppets have put together a collection of sweeping melodies that mix the aforementioned 007 sound with a touch of a late-80s-early-90’s sensibility. [I pick up a little bit of The Church’s “Reptile” in parts of the production.] Despite the influences, these tracks are oddly fresh – like those of a deer after a freshly fallen snow shortly before it becomes venison – hence the number ten position. The title track in particular seems to scream for silhouettes of women floating across lava lamp-inspired fields of color. And bubbles. A few tracks have Bacharachian chord progressions and most have lush string arrangements. Evidently when you combine each of these, you get a great album.

Standout track: “Meeting Place”

9. Deerhunter – “Microcastle/Weird Era Cont.”

When it came to Deerhunter, I was behind the curve. Before this album, I was entirely unfamiliar with them. I feel sick about it, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

This album isn’t for everyone. But for anyone who’s curious, there are moments that offer shades of My Bloody Valentine [e.g. “Vox Celeste”]. And it isn’t afraid to be a little ugly – something that most bands don’t embrace these days. Not everyone can be as brave as Fugazi and Sonic Youth.

I’m not sure what their logic was, but rather than releasing a double-album, they decided to release two albums in one package. So for the purposes of this list, it’s a double-album. That’s how I listen to it, anyway. Regardless [or as the kids say “irregardless—” Whoa! Hang on a second. Did you know that, according to Microsoft Word™ – at least the version I have – “irregardless” isn’t misspelled?? Holy crap. That’s… that’s… ((((((((((sigh)))))))))) that’s depressing…]

Okay. Gotta center myself... That just completely threw me off my game.

Standout track: “Operation.”
[Which I think is about a Milton Bradley game. Maybe I’m wrong.]

8. She & Him – “Volume One”

When I heard that Zoey Deschanel was singing on an album with M. Ward, I got scared. Eddie Murphy, John Travolta, David Soul – history is lousy with actors who sing lousy. [I know, Allison – “lousily.”] Said history now includes Scarlett Johansson’s ill-advised release of Tom Waits covers. I mean… I mean… who the hell thought that was a good idea? Does she not have a manager advising her?

On a related note: the manager of my building, Chris, is Tom Waits’ cousin which, apart from being inherently cool, is also quite educational. For instance, I found out that Tom Waits was actually once a kid. Anyway, I asked Chris if he’d heard her train wreck of an album and he just shook his head and with an oddly similar rasp said, “God, I hope her people paid him well.” Chris says what we all feel.

So. Back to She & Him. Surprisingly, Ms Deschanel has a beautiful voice and M. Ward’s simple melodies complement that voice. There’s no overreaching. She doesn’t try to be something she’s not. And the resulting songs are clean and smart.

Standout track: “Change Is Hard”

7. Sigur Rós – “Med sud i eyrum vid spilum endalaust” *

What do you say about a band you can’t understand? Language barrier aside, almost everything this band has ever done has been at the very least intriguing; usually it hovers somewhere near brilliance; and, I mean, talk about beautiful.

Go ahead.

Talk about it. I’ll wait…

To my ear, 2005’s “Taak” was a work of staggering beauty. So while I was excited to learn this was coming out, I wondered how they’d follow up such a tremendous album. “Med sud i eyrum vid spilum endalaust” answers the bell with songs that range from upbeat and playful to delicate and moving. Maybe such diversity is why the more I listen to it the more I get out of it. Unlike the number of times you view the cover. Which seems to get creepier and creepier. ["Hey Dagbjart. I was thinking - remember that time in high school...?"]

Standout track: “Inní mér syngur vitleysingur”

* My spell check hates Sigur Rós. Irregardless…

6. Fleet Foxes – “Fleet Foxes”

New band. Beard rock. Awesome. When I listen, I hear a little My Morning Jacket and I often feel the urge to live on a mountain. I don’t have an explanation for this. Perhaps I’ll run it past my therapist, but the flipside to such an urge is that these unconventional songs - some of which change up several times, a la The Who’s “A Quick One While He’s Away" - grab you and don't let go.

Lyrically speaking, I’ll admit that there is a certain… I don’t’ know… “oddness,” I suppose. But the melodies are so well conceived that it doesn’t matter. Having said that, the line that always seems to hit me is, “Tell me anything you want, any old lie will do.” Which brings me back to my therapist…

Standout track: “White Winter Hymnal”

5. The Hold Steady – “Stay Positive”

This is a rawk album. Kind of in the same vein as Wilco. It’s solid from the opening guitar licks of “Constructive Summer” to the final note of the three-part closer, “Ask Her For Adderall / Cheyenne Sunrise / Two Handed Handshake.”

The Hold Steady is a perfect band to drink beer to, and “Stay Positive” is loaded with music that’s likely perfect for road trips and frat parties – the former being a plus, the latter not so much, but I think you know what I mean. This album’s sound is so mainstream that I’m surprised a cynical alt-music zine like “Pitchfork” would rate it so highly. Nevertheless, it's one that most everyone can dig.

Standout track: “Sequestered In Memphis”

4. Bon Iver – “For Emma, Forever Ago”

Also new. Bon Iver [meaning good winter] used to be a guy named Justin Vernon, who has worked with the likes of Broken Social Scene and The Shins. Now it’s a band with a guy named Justin Vernon and a couple other guys. This album was produced when it was just Justin Vernon.

Some songs are haunting, some are sweet, and some ache. In fact, as I write this, I’m watching the band perform “Skinny Love” on David Letterman. Lots of euphonious aching. The one common thread throughout “For Emma” is its vulnerability. At times it sounds as though Vernon is exposing his last nerve. Fortunately, in his case, that’s a good thing for us. Call me a freakshow but I think honesty has always been an important ingredient to music with integrity.

Don’t ignore this one. You might miss something you’d regret.

Standout track: “Skinny Love”

3. R.E.M. – “Accelerate”

In the summer of 1986, my friends and I were on the verge of going to college. [Ladies and gentlemen, I give you… “old.”] We were getting liquored-up at a party thrown by our good friend Laura Goldstein. [Thank you again, Laura. Sorry for not helping with the clean-up.] This was a frequent occurrence, and the party I’m remembering lasted three days. Sounds like an exaggeration. It is not. Just ask.

On the evening of the second night, our friend Jim Ferguson joined us and pulled a tape out of his shirt pocket. He said, “Looky what I’ve got. It’s the new R.E.M. album, ‘Life’s Rich Pageant.’” I still remember how instantly addictive it was.

Fast-forward to this past April. I found that I had a similar response to “Accelerate.” In fact, I was talking music with Jim, whose musical taste I have trusted since the eighth grade, and I asked him, “Is it just me, or is ‘Accelerate’ a great album?” His response was, “I know, right??” Given that Jim’s has introduced me to more important bands than a jewelry store owner does to engaged couples each spring [Bah-DUM-Bum!!! ...God, I apologize. I'm ashamed of myself.] my opinion was validated – an opinion that goes a little something like this:

Holy shit. This album is shockingly good. I’ll say that again: “shockingly good.” Sometime during the past two years or so, R.E.M. remembered that they were a kick ass rock band. They plugged in and pressed record and it worked beautifully.

I can say it over and over yet still underrate it – this album is shockingly good.

Standout track: “Living Well’s the Best Revenge”

2. TV On The Radio – “Dear Science,”

Two years ago, Brooklyn’s TVOTR released “Return To Cookie Mountain.” Given the title, I thought it was the soundtrack to a 1970’s Disney movie starring Jodie Foster and Ed Asner. Turns out I was wrong. Instead, it was an album that made me repeat the words, “What the hell was that??” It had so many subtle layers that I couldn’t process it at first, which, for me, was part of its charm. [It was #1 on the 2006 list.] And like Sigur Rós’ “Taak,” I had difficulty believing anything that could top "Cookie Mountain."

“Dear Science,” does not.

However!

That doesn’t mean that it’s not an amazing album, which it is. I mean, hell, it’s #2. And unlike “Cookie Mountain,” this album is far more accessible. It's a great point of entry for anyone who isn’t familiar with their work. Had this album a poppier production value I believe several of these tracks would get strong radio play. “Dancing Choose,” with its “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It [And I Feel Fine]” cadence, could easily make the play list at a few senior proms. I grant you that this isn’t much of an endorsement but my point being, if awkward teenage boys in rented tuxes and equally awkward teenage girls in overpriced, remarketed bridesmaids dresses [both parties looking to shed said apparel as soon as possible] can enjoy it, most anyone can.

Standout track: “Stork & Owl”

1. Portishead – “Third”

In a word: unfuckingbelievable.

Like most fans, I thought I had heard Portishead’s last. But eleven years after their last album, they’ve released a masterpiece.

More than once I’ve heard fans say they were let down that “Third” doesn’t sound like classic Portishead but when a band releases two albums, is there a classic sound? Particularly when you consider that “Dummy” and “Portishead” each had unique characteristics. Besides, had The Beatles released two albums and waited until 1974 to release their third, would it have made sense for it to sound like “All My Lovin’?” I suspect “A Hard Day’s Night” wouldn’t have been embraced by recovering hippies. What, with the fact that “With The Beatles” was released before there even were hippies.

So Portishead has evolved. And when the folksy “Deep Water” and the unforgiving “Machine Gun” appear on the same album – let alone back-to-back – it appears as though that evolution is one that benefits both longtime and freshly minted fans alike.

The cornerstone of the Portishead dynamic is, of course, Beth Gibbons’ voice, which has never sounded better. And when you take in what Geoff Barrow and Adrien Utley have crafted, you know there was [gasp!] actual thought put into it, meaning this album will never get significant airplay, if any. This album is the antithesis of the pollution that is “American Idol.” This album is an instant classic. This album is a must.

Standout track: “The Rip”
[This just kills me.]

HONORABLE MENTION

Elvis Costello – “Momofuku”

Just ‘cause he’s now in his 50’s doesn’t make him irrelevant. He's still one of the best lyricists around. And with songs like "Turpentine" and "American Gangster Time," I don't see that changing any time soon.

Devotchka – “A Mad And Faithful Calling”

Eastern European rock, I guess, is a good description. Whatever. It, too, is great.

Kanye West – “808s & Heartbreak”

Surprised? Don’t be. I think this one is already underrated. Recommended by Mr. Ferguson, who was right again.

Andrew Bird - “Soldier On” e.p.

Yeah, it’s an e.p. but it’s Andrew Bird. And Andrew Bird is Andrew Bird. Unlike Bob Dylan, who, as I mentioned a couple years ago, is Bob Dylan.

Bloc Party – “Intimacy”

Turns out their sophomore release was just a stumble. Not bad, but not great. This one puts them back on track.

Jon Brion – “Synecdoche, NY”

I’ve attended hundreds of shows in several countries and Jon Brion is the single greatest performer I’ve ever seen. This is your run-of-the-mill brilliant Jon Brion soundtrack.

REISSUES & LIVE ALBUMS

The Clash - “Live at Shea Stadium”

Don’t think. Just buy it. Now. Make it happen. Go. You know you have that one-click thing goin’ on with your iTunes. Do it. It's a watershed moment in the history of rock. Do it. You know you want to.

R.E.M. - “Murmur” Deluxe Edition

Still one of my favorite albums of all time. And the concert on disc two is well worth the additional greenbacks.

Belle & Sebastian - “Live at The BBC”

A nice complement to their studio stuffs. It’s not Shea Stadium, but Belle & Sebastian at Shea Stadium would be stupid. As it is, this is excellent.

Oh— And I’m listening to the new Abe Vigoda (“Skeleton”) and it’s pretty great. As is Pattern Is Movement's "All Together."

So that’s that. If you have the albums on this list, I hope you agree. If you don’t, maybe you’ll give ‘em a shot. Sure beats watching Paula Abdul slur, “Yer goin’ tuh’Hollywood.” A slur that, given my location, is not a comfort.

"elated" doesn't cover it.

2008-11-06T18:07:00.000-08:00

Barack Obama was elected two nights ago. I've tried in vain to find the words to describe my feelings.

Perhaps I'll find them later.

stephen root and bosnia.

2008-03-09T21:54:00.000-07:00

So I turned in my screenplay to my manager, Dave. Which is not dissimilar to an afternoon bike ride through the streets of Bosnia. It's just a very dangerous situation. Having said that, I'm extremely happy with it. I think the structure is solid, the dialogue and jokes aren't forced and just dark enough, and the characters are believable. And, if I do say so myself, it's a good story. If Dave is critical, which is his job, I'd like to think it's going to be about little things.

If he doesn't like it? I don't know. I think I'll try to scrape together money from wherever I can and make it myself. (Though, I want to direct it no matter what, so maybe that would be a blessing in disguise.) I see what's being produced and sent out into the world and most of it sucks. This is not a revelation. There are only so many "There Will Be Bloods" — a movie that, as I've stated a number of times, is already one of my favorites. And I think with even limited funds, I might be able to crush those uninspired productions like a grape. I know how this must sound. But I believe it's my best work and if I can't feel great about my best work, I may as well just pack it in and leave town.

I've started to think about actors. Real ones. Ones that, if I end up doing it myself, would be impossible to get. Funny enough, I ran into one of my favorite actors yesterday, Stephen Root.
I've thought he was brilliant for years and there we were filing through used Elvis Costello CDs together. I told him, "I'm a big fan of your work and, evidently, your taste in music." Nice guy. We started talking Elvis, but ended up talking for quite some time about many other things. Though, eventually, I felt pretty uncomfortable because... well... I didn't want to say something stupid to Stephen Root. Anyhow, I hastily said, "good talking to you and take care," and as I walked away I realized that he IS the character of Sammy. Sammy's much older, but Stephen Root can become pretty much anything he wants. In fact, he's perfect. And even though Sammy's not a big part, (yeah, i know — there are no small parts... blah, blah, blah....) I found myself hoping to get it to him. So who knows? Maybe I'll send it to his people. Worst case scenario he says no.

But maybe, just maybe, he says yes.

18-1

2008-02-05T20:42:00.000-08:00

Heh... heh, heh... hee-hee-hee-hee... ha, ha, ha... heeh, hee, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha-ha, ah-hahahahahahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HA, HAH, HA... hee, hee...tee-hee-hee...

Whew!

That was a good one...

2007? it sounded like a good idea.

2008-01-01T17:56:00.000-08:00

It’s been a looooooong time, and I’ve not written because I’ve been preoccupied with writing. And when you write all day, the last thing you want to do is write all night. That said, I’ve decided that my annual list of the year’s best music is a good time to start up again.

As with last year, these are in fairly loose order until we get towards the end. And I could have added a few other albums [like, say, Menomena's "Friend and Foe"] but I figured that would be against the whole spirit of the "Top 10 List."

I've also included rollovers to a few videos, a number of which are links to the brilliant "La Blogothéque."

Enough, already. Let’s jump into it, shall we?

Caribou — “Andorra”

This one was a pleasant surprise. It’s lush and much like a walk through 1967 without sounding overly derivative [and without the bad acid]. To my ear, it’s got a little early-90’s flavor to it as well [without the bad X]. But it’s a great marriage and I doubt there will be any arguing over who gets the dog any time soon. So let that be a lesson for all of you kids out there: Good acid + Good X = Damn fine music.

[Standout track: “She’s the One”]

Spoon — “Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga”

Aussie: “You call that a knife? THAT’S a knife!”
Bart: “That’s not a knife. That’s a spoon.”
Aussie: “GASP! I see you’ve played ‘knifey-spoony’ before!”

As we all know, “Spoon” is both a noun and a verb. And for almost 15 years, Spoon have been putting out songs that, at first listen, sound pretty much like what you’d expect from the average indie rock band today. But scratch the surface and you can hear the difference that Britt Daniels makes. “Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga” is a collection of catchy compositions and each one sounds exactly like Spoon. And that’s a very, very good thing.

[Standout track: “You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb”]

The National — “Boxer”

I had never heard of The National until 2007. [Thereby making me incredibly uncool. Again.] But “Boxer” is a good album with which to start. Taking a few cues from Lambchop, it’s a beautiful, smart album; beautiful, because of the string arrangements and smart because of the fucked-up time signatures in tracks like “Fake Empire.” And these two elements make it better than 99% of anything you’ll hear on the radio. [Have I ever mentioned that said radio sucks ass? If not, I need to remedy that — the radio sucks ass. Let's move on, then...]

[Standout track: “Fake Empire”]

The Bird and the Bee — “The Bird and the Bee”

Some advice: If you find yourself walking down Sunset Blvd, and Amoeba Music’s marquee reads, "TONIGHT: [Band You’ve Never Heard Of]," go inside and take a chance. I saw The Bird and the Bee at Amoeba and they were cool and refreshing — much like a tall glass of 7-up. First I fell in love with the singer; then I fell in love with her voice. If you like your Burt Bacharach mixed with a little electronica, this is the band for you. I do find that one either loves or hates them, though. So if you’re inclined to explore, keep that in mind.

[Stand out track: "Again and Again"]

Elliott Smith — “New Moon”

I’ve always believed that we form relationships with the musicians we listen to. Each elicits a unique emotional and intellectual response. For me, Elliott Smith always felt like the friend that needed a few words of encouragement. And when he committed suicide [was killed by his girlfriend], I can’t say that I was entirely shocked. “New Moon” is a delicate mix of new, incomplete tracks, and few covers and alternate takes. It captures his vulnerability and dignity. And it makes me miss my friend.

[Standout track: “New Monkey”]

Beirut — “The Flying Cup Club”

Everything Beirut does makes me feel like I’ve just walked into a smoky bistro in Paris — I hear catchy accordion-based tunes, smell like a cigarette, and wish there was a cheap streetwalker in close proximity. Somebody should tell Zach Condon he’s from Santa Fe. Better yet, don’t. Although this is one of the top albums of the year, I actually think their best song — and release — of the year was “Elephant Gun.” Regardless, who wants some Armagnac?

[Standout track: “Nantes”]

Feist — “The Reminder”

“1-2-3-4,
make me Steve Jobs’ corporate whore…”

Okay. Although I always find it annoying when a band gains public attention via a television commercial [Nick Drake's "Pink Moon"], it’s a good song and a great video. Mind you, I don’t have a problem with the ad as much as I do the laziness of the American music fan. [Dig, people. Earn your damn music.] But “The Reminder” is a terrific album, front to back, no matter where its audience first heard it.

[Standout track: “I Feel It All”]

Iron & Wine ¬— “The Shepherd’s Dog”

Sam Beam is consistently top-notch, and “The Shepherd’s Dog” is the next phase in the evolution of Iron & Wine. This one has a bit more electricity, and often when a band makes the jump from acoustic to electric, it’s a little awkward — not everyone can be Bob Dylan. Who, as I covered in last year’s list, is Bob Dylan. But Sam Beam is Sam Beam, and Sam Beam is pretty damn great. Plus, his beard makes Bob Dylan’s its bitch.

[Standout track: “Boy With A Coin”]

Okkervil River — “The Stage Names”

“The Stage Names” is a lot like Iron & Wine’s “The Shepherd’s Dog” release in that it’s a hugely successful step in the evolution of the band. This, thanks to Will Sheff. He’s a brilliant songwriter, who doesn’t pigeonhole himself and, in doing so, helps to shape the musical landscape. This one features my favorite single of the year...

[Standout track: “Our Life Is Not a Movie or Maybe”]

Andrew Bird — “Armchair Apocrypha”

This guy makes the violin cool. I missed my chance to see Mr. Bird at Amoeba. I forget what I was doing, but I should have cancelled it twice. I have no excuses and as I write this, I feel a little sick to my stomach, much like an Olsen twin after eating a single ziti. This is a beautiful album. Andrew Bird never really follows musical trends. He makes great music, but no apologies. This one was close to being number one of the year. But then the next two albums on this list came out.

[Standout track: “Spare-Ohs”]

“Neon Bible” — The Arcade Fire

In 2004, “Funeral” was the album everyone was talking about — something that’s usually the kiss of death for any sophomore release. The Arcade Fire didn’t follow that blueprint. On this one, they kind of scattered every which way and ended up making what could have been the best of the year. There are so many standout tracks on this, I’ll just throw a dart at the track list and give you the one I hit.

[Standout track: “Windowstill”]

Radiohead — “In Rainbows”

It’s just not fair. Other bands should be whining. They should go to their mommies and tell. Radiohead continues to be the best band on earth. In fact, they’re so good, they could end up on this list during years in which they don’t release a note of music. They’re better than Christmas morning, the last day of school, Fonzie's motorcycle, and Monica Bellucci, combined. —On second thought, scratch that last example. But they're pretty damn fantastic, and “In Rainbows” just isn’t fair. It’s the best of the year and if you don’t agree, you’re wrong. But that's just my opinion.

Like the rest of this list.

[Standout track: “Videotape”]

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

recipe for a good time.

2007-08-02T22:12:00.000-07:00

It starts with bacon. Bacon grease, actually.

Next, you’ll need an NFL quarterback, like, say, Michael Vick. Yeah. Vick would be perfect.

Okay. So then we fry up the bacon and give it to a homeless guy. [Or woman. I’m no sexist, so stop looking at me that way. I think homeless women can fight just as hard as homeless men in those DVD's.] My thinking is that the bacon shouldn’t go to waste.

Next, we take the bacon grease and run it through Michael Vick’s hair. That’s right. We take that bacon grease and run it right through those fashionable-ass corn rolls. [And let me tell you, corn rolls are always fashionable-ass.] Anyway, we run that bacon grease through his hair and take him somewhere nice. Like, say… oh, I don’t know… inside a dog-fighting pit. Yeah. That’d be nice.

Okay, after that, we get some dogs. Real mean, hungry pit bulls. Pit bulls that don’t watch football. I’m thinkiiiiiing… let’s go with six. Y'take those six pit bulls and put 'em in there with our buddy, Michael. 'Cause I think Michael Vick should enjoy some down time with vicious pit bulls. I mean, why not? He enjoys them — or so I've been lead to believe.

The only thing left to do is crack open an ice cold Pabst Blue Ribbon, make up some of your sister’s recipe for seven-layer dip, and let the laughs begin.

Michael Vick deserves this and so much more. He deserves jail time. He deserves massive fines. He deserves to be someone’s bitch. He deserves bad karma. In his next life, he should end up a dog in a fight, organized by a dumbass NFL quarterback.

Now, I was tempted to show you what a dog on the losing end of a fight looks like, so you could be witness to evil. Why sugarcoat it, right? But I figured you were already subjecting yourselves my bullshit, so why add to your pain? Besides, you can find a number of the aforementioned images online, so just Google “pit bull” if you have the stomach for it. Be prepared to see a dog’s face being held together by medical implements. Be prepared to see skin and fur torn away along the scalp. Be prepared to be completely disgusted. Be prepared to hate Michael Vick. [Mind you, I'm a Steelers and Notre Dame fan. I've always hated Michael Vick.]

If you ask me, I’d say it’s an open and shut case. If the NFL brings him back this season [make no mistake — the players union won’t allow him to be banned permanently] they should keep this in mind: before he decided to kill little Filipino boys, Jeffrey Dahmer killed animals. Michael Vick decided it was okay to hang or electrocute the losing dogs in his little enterprise. Maybe if Jeff had been drafted in the first round he — and those boys — would be alive and well today. Maybe his life wouldn’t have been filled with so much despair and loneliness that his little psychopathic hobby would have run its unnatural course and diminished. Or maybe the closest he’d come to hurting an animal would have been kicking the pigskin.

And yes, I know i'm a hypocrite because I love my Thanksgiving dinner as much as the next omnivore, but in my mind there's a difference between food and sheer cruelty. Though, many would argue that I'm way off base.

One thing I do know is that Vick needs help. Eh. On second thought, maybe we should just get started on that recipe.

alec guinness is in front of the bed, bath and beyond.

2007-07-26T10:12:00.000-07:00

Fame is a thing. David Bowie wrote a whole song about it and everything.

Fame is pretty big here. Lot’s of famous-types. Which means paparazzi. They're all over the place and whatnot. I’ve concluded that “paparazzi” is another word for “cockroaches.” They seem to be the lowest of the low. Even lower than anyone who’d wear a Ray Lewis jersey. But then, maybe not. Either way, it takes a certain deficiency — a certain nothing — to surround someone’s car in the In-N-Out Burger drive-thru just because the guy ordering the Double-Double Animal Style played “Astonished Juror #3” in a movie back in 1997.

But it seems to me that fame is something that I would absolutely abhor. Why would anyone aspire to have total strangers interrupt as they try to polish off the last of the their cobb salad? Although, it wasn’t a very good one. Mostly iceberg lettuce. And the bacon left something to be desired. I think it was fake bacon. Yeah. It was facon. More like Grape Nuts®. Bacon doesn’t get that hard and gravel-like. And that iced tea was pretty tasteless too. I should have gotten an Arnold Palmer. Oooh… and Arnold Palmer. That would really hit the spot right about now…

But I digress yet again.

So then, it seems to go like this: move to Hollywood, audition, get discovered, get hyped, get famous, get a star on the Hollywood walk of fame, situated in front of a retail chain.

In rare instances, the location of one’s star is fitting. Johnny Cash, for example, is across the street from an X-rated movie theater. Jamie Farr is… well… in front of the Bed, Bath & Beyond with Alec Guinness.

Of course, this wasn’t Alec’s goal. He never asked to end up a doormat for people looking to buy a 3-pack of Dust Buster filters, now did he?

Not Obi-Wan Kenobi. No, he seems more like a Borders Bookstore kind of guy.

“These are not the Ayn Rand books you’re looking for…”

comedy brittle.

2007-07-05T10:33:00.001-07:00

Okay.

There’s been quite a large amount of water under the bridge since I last wrote on this blog. That’s at LEAST a gallon. Which, in L.A. runs about $16.

The reason I’ve been away for so long is that I’ve begun freelancing for an agency in town. And I think it’s the beginning of the magical and breathtaking world advertising — a land where candy canes and lollipops grow wild along the hallways and art directors quiver in their offices in the fetal position, muttering “I'm really a painter… I'm really a painter... “

The agency I’m doing work for isn’t Chiat Day, who, for those of you don’t know, has the Apple account. But they’re paying me. [Oh yes. I’m in it for the art. I’m like Warhol but without the hip, beautiful, destructive crowd of hangers on… Actually? Never mind. I’m exactly like Warhol.] But, as usual, I digress. The agency — a few of the people are quite nice and it’s good to know some of those kinds of people in Los Angeles [where gold-plated three-picture deals line the streets and the waiters move from table to table, muttering, “I’m really an actor… I’m really an actor…”]
But my time at this agency has brought into sharp focus, once again, an observation I’ve brought up time and time again. And that observation is that comedy is brittle. And when somebody fucks up your idea, I feel, it goes from brittle to brutal. This isn’t by any stretch a new notion. In fact, the brilliant John Cleese applied the word “brittle” to comedy about 10 years ago.

The reason I bring this up is because I’ve been experiencing this brittle/brutal thing firsthand lately. See, I labor under the revolutionary notion that the writer understands his humor better than anyone else. Except, maybe, your average Hollywood suit. Those guys are known for bringin’ the funny. They’re right up there with Hermann Goering and Carrot Top. I believe that the writer should be the director. And if he or she can’t be the director, they should be in the director’s ear, making suggestions. Things like, “could you get that guy to say my words less crappily?” [And I think Cleese would find this a fair question.]

The other day I came up with what I thought was a pretty funny ad for McDonald’s. This, in and of itself was a victory. But the end result is one that I’d turn off within 15 seconds.

I’m hoping that my pilot [which I wrote with the alarmingly talented mike exner] or my screenplay [which I wrote with the alarmingly talented mike exner] fares better.

Time will tell.

neighborhood shots.

2007-05-26T23:57:00.000-07:00

oslo.

2007-05-26T23:24:00.000-07:00

There’s a dog on my street with whom I love to interact.

Oslo [pronounced “Oh-slow”] likes to hang out in his front yard and poke his head through the fence — and hedges — to see what’s going on in the neighborhood. He introduced himself to me a few months ago, as I was walking down the street. Suddenly, the manicured hedgerow became Oslo and we've been friends ever since. He’s never made a peep and he doesn’t jump around maniacally like every other Weimaraner in the known free world.

He just sits there, making this face.

Oslo's cool.
...............

north.

2007-05-25T02:20:00.001-07:00

So, I've decided to shoot Beachwood Canyon. I find it's loaded with a bizarre mix of typical Los Angeles architecture, typical British architecture — the kind one might find in the countryside - and, surprisingly, Asian minimalist architecture. [This led me to say, "Oy vay! It's Feng Shui!!"] The lighting wasn't optimal for shooting the homes, so I'll shoot them at a later date. There's also a stable at the end of my street. I asked permission to photograph it, knowing full well they'd deny the request. [I said, "I shoot horses, don't I?" They said, "go away."]

...And, as per usual, you can click on 'em to enlarge.

2007-05-25T01:58:00.000-07:00

2007-05-25T01:42:00.000-07:00

somewhere, tinky winky is laughing. hard.

2007-05-15T22:50:00.000-07:00

And then he’s gonna have a threesome with Dipsy, and Po [a ho, I'm told] and laugh even harder.

Jerry Falwell died today. So, okay, let’s just come out and say it, shall we? Jerry Falwell was a nasty, hateful tool.

Oh my god! Did he just say that? About a man of the cloth??

Yes. Yes, I did. And I would argue that Jerry Falwell was more about green paper than cloth. He had exactly zero scruples, and if there is a Creator, he’s instructing St. Peter to bitch-slap Falwell and have him dragged to Hades by God’s Bouncers. [They look like they’ve been lifting, so don’t mess with them.]
Don’t believe me that Falwell was a no-good shithead? This is what he said after September 11th:

"I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People For the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America. I point the finger in their face and say 'you helped this happen.'"

…uh... Jerry? As the kids say these days, WTF?

Wait, it gets better. He thought you were stupid [much like the ad guys mentioned in my May 6th post]. I know this because of what he said two days later:

"I hold no one other than the terrorists and the people and nations who have enabled and harbored them responsible for Tuesday's attacks on this nation."

And he expected you to believe him.

He then blamed the media for incompetent reporting. Personally? I blame the media for not calling him on it. No, I blame the media for not treating him the way Tony Soprano last treated Christopher Moltisanti.

But, much like a Ginsu Knife offer, there’s still more: Falwell contested that, “when The Antichrist comes, he must be, of necessity, a Jewish male."

Yeah, Jerry, Sandy Koufax is the beast. And it’s not “666.” It’s “000.” Which is, of course, a perfect game. I can see how Jerry might get the two confused.

Anyhow, I couldn’t possibly go through all of Falwell’s bullshit with one post. It would have to be the length of a novel, and who the hell wants to read a novel about him? If you want a book about an asshole, you may as well read, “The Cat in the Hat.” Sure, he’s one of the most celebrated characters in children's literature, but let’s be honest with ourselves — he’s an asshole. He comes in and trashes his hosts’ house and puts their pet’s life in jeopardy. But at least he’s not that pervert, Tinky Winky, ‘cause that guy loooooooves that Judy Garland.

But back to Falwell — who was only marginally smarter than the average children’s literature character [and av-er-age bear]. Let’s not revise history. Let’s not insult everyone’s intelligence. Let’s not react as Senator John McCain [R-AZ] reacted.

In a statement today, he said, “Dr. Falwell was a man of distinguished accomplishment who devoted his life to serving his faith and country. Our thoughts and prayers are with Dr. Falwell’s family at this difficult time.”

Not that you ever had it, Senator, but you’ve officially lost my vote. I can’t abide another idiot in the Oval Office.

But, as cold as it sounds, I think the world is a better place now that another idiot is in the dirt.

Oh my god! Did he just say that? About a man of the cloth??

Yes. Yes, I did.

hello, my name's dante.

2007-05-11T00:33:00.001-07:00

So for the second time in two months, my neighborhood experienced a brush with fire [a brush fire, specifically]. This one was much closer than the first. So close, in fact, that I started to consider what I’d take with me if I were told to leave my home, just as the residents in the neighborhood down the road from mine were. So close that I could smell the smoke. So close that, as I drove up my street, I could see 100-foot flames, climbing up the ridge, maybe a quarter mile away. And, according to KTLA [inexplicably, the only station covering it], the wind was blowing west – i.e. my direction. Not a great feeling.
[Sadly, I don't live in this building.]

So, although the only mandatory evacuation I want to be a part of involves a venti coffee and a brand muffin, I started to make a mental list of what I’d have to load into my car. What was most sensible? What was irreplaceable? What was the most valuable?

Here, then, was my checklist:

• personal documents [taxes, passport etc]
• laptop/external hard drive
• notebooks
• artwork and photography
• pinochle trophies and ribbons
• a rare copy of Miracle Legion's 1987 masterpiece, "Surprise, Surprise, Surprise."

• iPod
• iPod Dock
• manuscript to my upcoming novel, "I Will Remember You Until The Day I Get Alzheimer's"
• photos of iPod and Dock
• hairshirt
• knife set
• DVD’s of “The San Pedro Beach Bums,” Season I; “When Things Were Rotten,” Season 1; “Rhoda,” The Complete Series; and “Quincy,” Season 5 [If you ask me, Klugman peaked in ‘79]

• set of rare, erotic Jell-o™ molds
• photos of my set of rare, erotic Jell-o™ molds
• Terrible Towels
• autographed picture of Myron Cope
• "Map of the Polynesian Prostitutes' Homes"
• my collection of “Boy’s Life”
• Jimmy Hoffa's copy of "How To Make Friends And Influence People" by Dale Carnegie
• Bigfoot footprint plaster mold

• the master tapes of “The Beatles For Sale” [Up yours, George Martin! You want ‘em?? You’d better get yourself a damn good lawyer!]
• official Super Bowl IV inflatable hemorrhoid ring
• hooka
• lucky cheese gratin' scarf
• book on tape — “An Illustrated History of Yogurt-Based Cuisine in the 60’s” by Spiro Agnew
• ...and “Guernica”

…These are the things that matter in life.

But that’s just my opinion.

people don't read blogs.

2007-05-06T11:23:00.000-07:00

…they read what interests them, and sometimes it’s a blog.

Howard Luck Gossage almost said that. Actually, what he said was, “People don’t read ads, per se. They read what interests them and sometimes it’s an ad.”

Gossage was a genius. He created ads like this one:

Pretty good ad, right? You’re damn right it is. And if there were more ads like it today, people would be less likely to turn the page, change the channel, and drive past without so much as a glance.

Why is intelligent advertising so hard to come by? Well, I think I know the answer. [What were the odds?] It’s because advertisers think that you’re stupid. Really stupid. Like, Rain Man-Forrest Gump stupid. Peter Boyle-doing-Frankenstein-singing-“Puttin’-on-the-Ritz” stupid. And the reason they think you’re stupid is because no one has told them that they’re wrong. It’s also Rupert Murdoch’s fault, but then so are “American Idol,” “In Living Color,” and “90210.” For which, he should be playing Scrabble™ in the rec room at Attica Correctional Facility, with a shiv tucked away in his sock just in case his cellmate decides he looks like Mamie Van Doren — which, by the way, he does.
[Rupert Murdoch, above]

But you’re not stupid are you? You’re actually pretty damn smart. And without making it sound like I’m trying to get you into bed, you’re pretty damn attractive, too. [But, uh, you’re gonna get that thing fixed, right?]

My point in all of this is… is… well… this:

We accept too much in the way of mediocrity. Our airwaves and highways and newspapers are chock-full of it. Networks are convinced you can only handle bite-sized portions of information. And it’s troublesome when the majority of our population gets its most accurate political information from comedians.

I suggest an intellectual revolution.

do you see this man??

2007-04-21T22:17:00.000-07:00

You see him, don't you? Admit it! You do! That's right, you see him!!!

His name is Jim Leyland. And if the Pirates' front office wasn't comprised entirely of the dippiest dipshits who ever dipped shit, I wouldn't be in Los Angeles watching the Pirates blow a lead [and chunks] in the bottom of the 9th at Chavez Ravine, while the Tigers' manager [see above] is working on leading his team back to the playoffs. For the second year in a row. After being in last friggin' place. I wouldn't be doing that, now would I?

No, no. I wouldn't.

I wouldn't be watching the Dodgers kick the Pirates' asses in the bottom of the 10th, with a walk off GRAND SLAM!!!

Way to go, braniacs. Quit your jobs. Please. For the sake of one of the oldest sports franchises in history. Pretty please. With crappy decision-making on top. [Or make that, "on the bottom." Of the division. Morons.]

....whew!... that felt good...

coyotes ugly.

2007-04-05T01:41:00.000-07:00

So, anyhow. The coyotes.

In the cartoons, Wile E. Coyote is carnivorous, but loveable. He also works alone, is usually silent, and relies heavily on the Acme Company for implements of death.

Truth be told, none of those things is based in reality. Coyotes are not even close to loveable. Like beer, they come in packs. And they have no hard currency to buy implements of death. [Not to mention the fact that the average coyote’s credit rating is terrible.]

I know these things because at least once every two weeks — around the time when I should be dreaming about drinking Ovaltine™ shooters with Harry Houdini, President James K. Polk, and George Gobel on a dingy, floating down the Nung River to see Dennis Hopper and Julia Child play tennis — I am startled out of my deep slumber by the sound of a pack of coyotes attacking an animal of some sort outside of my window.

Sometimes it’s down the street, sometimes it’s in the distance, but sometimes it’s right next to my building. No matter where it originates, it’s not a sound you ever want to hear. It’s a cacophony made up of high-pitched [piercing, actually] cackles and howls, times 10. Because to my ear, that’s about how many coyotes there are.

Unfortunately, in a way, it’s the din of pet owner Darwinism. I’ve been told that the residents hate the coyotes, which makes sense. Sometimes the casualties include their dogs and cats.

That said, I have a question for them: What the hell are you doing leaving their pet out at 3 a.m.? You live on the edge of a canyon. Wild animals live in the canyon. You can hear the coyotes in the distance. What the hell did you think was going to happen?

I don’t think any of these are pet owners who fall under the “Einstein” category. I doubt they’re capable of formulating the “leash theory.”

You would think that the “Caution Rattle Snakes” signs posted around the aforementioned canyon would be an obvious indicator that we’re communing with nature. I mean, you can’t really get too angry at the coyotes, right? It’s instinct. Ginger is a canine. Ginger is pissing on ground where they tread. Ginger is easy bait because ginger is tethered to a metal stake in the ground. Ginger, unfortunately, is always going to lose in that scenario.

So maybe the dogs shouldn’t require the license. Maybe the owners should. I'm just sayin'.

hollywood is burning.

2007-03-31T01:30:00.000-07:00

It’s been a while since my last post, and my original plan was to write about the packs of coyotes that have been attacking pets and wild animals outside my window at night. But that will have to wait.

Why?

BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!!!

Eryn [Chloe, for those of you keeping track] is at my door.

“Have you seen the fire…?”

[cut to]
Eryn and me hurrying out to the curb to gaze up the street. The sunlight is orange. Not just in the general area of the fire — everywhere. It’s actually orange. The closest thing to it is the pale yellow in the atmosphere before a tornado. Only this is different. 'Cause this light is orange. Which isn't yellow. [I think you follow.]

And there it is: The Hollywood sign is standing in front of billows of smoke. To its left, fire can be seen licking up the far side of the mountain, menacingly edging its way towards enormous, white vowels and consonants. Overhead are a number of helicopters —both of the firefighting and the six o’clock news varieties. [The news was hovering, and the firefighters were dropping what I assume was several tons of asbestos onto the conflagration. Something to look forward to.] Since Universal City is on the other side of the mountain, it's safe to say that about 17 screenwriters snapped into action at once — they got on their Macs and iExploited the situation. I'm sure sometime next year, there will be a movie called, "HOLLYWOOD! Letters Ablaze!" Shit. Now that I think about it...

As I’ve mentioned before, my street is big with tourists. Lots of people stop to see the sign. And I’ll admit that it’s still a little odd to drive to my apartment and see it staring down at me. But it’s downright surreal to see people taking vacation snapshots, completely oblivious to the fact that the residents are starting to consider whether or not they should move their HD televisions to their cars for quick getaways. [Admittedly, this would have been a smart move, had the fire reached the crest. At that point, it would have been an easy path down to my neighborhood.] Of course, many of the residents were thanking god that their biggest investments are attached to their chests. But it's absurd to think that a tourist can block out a potentially dangerous situation so they can get that coveted snapshot. Freaks.

In any case, these, here, are a few of the shots I took of the biggest drama in Hollywood today. Consider it a preview of next year's biggest summer blockbuster.

Oh. And the cause?

Two teenage boys playing with firecrackers. Their parents are, I'm sure, very, very proud.

we love trash.

2007-03-01T14:03:00.000-08:00

The Oscars. They’re, like, the Super Bowl of award shows. Only with slightly better officiating. [As far as big events go, the Super Bowl has the edge because the speeches are far more articulate: “How’d we win the game? Well, basically, we scored more points than the other team. Then we poured my favorite sports drink on Coach. This was very funny to me and my friends. We laughed and we laughed. Then we got a trophy that I can’t even take home. Bulllllshit, man…”]

Oscar night is — as far as I can tell — the one night we can watch people who are paid to say things for a living, go, “umm… oh… God, umm… first I want to thank… wow, this was… this is… a mistake… I, uh…” Only to be followed by a thoughtful speech and the words, “Now, [insert son/daughter name here], go to bed.” Which is a joke that should, itself, be put to bed. These people make it sound as if they can’t afford nannies or parents to do the task of watching over their off spring, as the little bastards train for a life in rehab.

Winning an Academy Award is a big deal too. Or, at least it was, until Marisa Tomei won one. The Russell Crowe nod didn’t do much to restore its luster, either. [Oh. And by the way, Alan Arkin DID deserve his award. It was really a lifetime achievement honor, anyway. Frankly, anyone involved in the launching of Second City…]

But when you’re living here in the City of Brotherly Facelifts, the Oscars have a special added meaning: gridlock.

Oh, my holy god.

The problem is that I live pretty close to the Kodak Theater. And that makes for a fairly inconvenient truth which, coincidentally, won an Oscar. [Unless George Bush wants to take THAT away from him, too.]

I blame the traffic jams on People™ magazine, which is only slightly harder-hitting and accurate than Fox News. Is it really that important for its subscribers to have a place to sit to watch Gwyneth Paltrow enter the Kodak Theater to receive her posthumous lifetime achievement award? I mean, it’s important to keep up her exceedingly low self-esteem but Is it really worth the meticulously well-planned detours and the headaches? No. No, it’s not.

That said, it’s actually kind of an interesting spectacle to watch 100’s of limos navigate their way through Beverly Hills, West Hollywood [,etc…] an hour before the show. The Goodyear™ Blimp, hanging in the sky; helicopters, circling the perimeter — hell, even the trannies were dressed to the nines. [Or is it sixes?]

But my thoughts as all of this buzzed around me were simply, “acting is a beautiful career. Celebrity is rubbish.”

I’m not likely to change my mind on that point.

when i'm moving too fast, here's my new address.

2007-02-21T16:36:00.000-08:00

When I was 19, I decided it would be a wise move to quit art school and travel to Ireland and the UK. I had the idea that I’d get there and find a job at a pub, where I might find the ghost of James Joyce lurking behind a barstool. So with an incredible naiveté, I flew to Shannon airport. (This was the day after the student stopped the tanks in Tiananmen Square — my journey was a bit more frivolous. Or not.)

After having gone through customs, I went to baggage claim, where I grabbed my luggage and turned around to get that job pouring Guinness for drunken men named Declan and Liam and Bono.

That’s when it hit me:

Holy.

Shit.

I’m alone in a foreign country and have absolutely no idea where I’m going to live or how I’m going to make a living. Plus, James Joyce is dead, everyone in the country named Declan and Liam is probably liquored-up and belligerent, and Bono won’t talk to me unless I’m covered with flies.

Which brings me to my current situation. Last week, I moved to Los Angeles. And if I don’t find employment or interest in my writing soon, I will, in fact, be covered with flies.

I loaded up the truck and moved to Beverly (Hills, that is) on the 11th. Three days later, I pulled up to my new home, which is situated directly under big, white letters that spell out “Hollywood.” (Technically, that’s where I live.)

It’s at this point that I must give you all a piece of advice: if ever you choose to drive across country — particularly alone — avoid the Texas panhandle. It is, without question, the creepiest place on earth. Like, ten times creepier than Disney World or a Carrot Top concert. Even the sunshine is creepy. (It marked the only time I was glad my friend Seif Hamid had chosen not to make the trip. Methinks we would not have been well received, or maybe even gotten out alive.)

So now , as I sit here, wondering how I'm going to make a living, I think to myself:

Holy.

Shit.

The neighborhood is terrific. It feels like a real, live neighborhood, with lawns, houses, and palm trees lining the street. And lots of dogs. Oh— and fake breasts. (SOOOO June Cleaver, that trollop.) Also, being that the sign is clearly visible, it’s big with tourists. (Typically, groups of Asians, who are living up to the stereotypes.)

I’m just two blocks from Hollywood Blvd, just down the street from the Capitol Records building, the Kodak Theater, and all of that well-known crap, which will prove to be ironic in a very good way, or a very bad way. Time will tell.

I’m also a few blocks away from the Henry Fonda Theater, where I just saw Neko Case, thanks to my friend Rachel — one of Neko’s back-up singers. She was kind enough to get me free tickets and after-party passes.

Great show. Even better when you consider one of the opening acts was a guy named Porter Wagner. He’s about 100 years old and his hands look exactly the same as those of every embalmed corpse. But his electric pink, glittered suit kicked ass and I’m pretty sure it was what was keeping him from flat-lining. His backing band wasn’t so terrible, either. It included (legendary country producer) Marty Stuart, Dwight Yoakam and Billy Bob Thorton. Not exactly a common scene.

Anyhow, those are a few things that I've been doing lately.

Gotta go. I’m on the hunt for the ghost of Charles Bukowski.

change. [for the soon-to-be homeless.]

2007-01-21T11:32:00.000-08:00

Much has happened since I last wrote on this, here, blog — a new year; one less genocidal maniac; yet another round of cosmetic surgery. [I now have the most sublime calves.]

Lately, I’ve been criss-crossing the country. Lots of time spent on planes, wishing the fat French guy sitting next to me would give me at least SOME of the armrest. But no. The bastard just sits there reading his book, smelling of sweetbreads... Go home and surrender to someone, Frenchie. [see below]

Something else has happened since the last post: I’m now planning on moving to Los Angeles, which is situated in California, between San Diego and Oxnard. I think I’m most attracted to L.A. [that’s how people in-the-know refer to it] by its warm and giving population, about which I’ve already mentioned on this page. Everyone’s like a freakin’ monk or nun or short order cook or something. Very warm. Which leads me to the weather: it doesn’t rain. It’s probably the Prozac. Either that or Al Gore is pih- hih- hissed off. And you don’t want to fuck with Al Gore. He’ll open up a can of something. And eat it right in front of you. So let’s go with the drugs.

The reason for the aforementioned decision has to do with life. Mine, to be exact. It’s about time I change it because, frankly, writing hip replacement ads is no way to live. At least not for me. I’ve always been more in tune with the pancreas. [I’ve enjoyed metabolizing sugar my whole life.] Also, I like the idea of being a cliché for a while. Everyone in L.A. has a screenplay to sell. The difference between their screenplays and mine is that theirs isn’t mine, which is called “Raging Bull.” It’s about an eccentric chocolate manufacturer and the poor little boy who wins the chance to visit the chocolate factory. I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be huge.

In addition to the grand slam that is my script, it’s the right time to make the move because I now have management, thanks to the help of the lovely and talented Eryn Joslyn. As of Friday evening [01.19], I’m being represented by an outstanding organization and, in all honesty, it still has yet to sink in. This isn’t to say that I won’t be eating macaroni and cheese from a blue box for the next year, but it sure helps my chances of getting “Raging Bull” made.

Funny enough, I didn’t expect them to be such nice people. You have this image in your head about Hollywood weasels, y’know? I’m sure the weasels DO lurk around a large number of corners throughout the town, but these people don’t fall into that category. I’m crazy-fortunate. Damn crazy-fortunate.

So that’s what’s new in my world: you know… the usual.

Listen Up! The best of 2006 [I think].

2006-12-22T21:59:00.000-08:00

Okay. Music was released in the past 365 days [or there abouts]. And since this is my blog, I’m going to give you my opinion as to what the best of it was.

My top ten, in no particular order:

TOM WAITS — "ORPHANS: BRAWLERS, BAWLERS & BASTARDS"
This is ridiculous. Every time this guy releases an album, it's, at the very least, outstanding. Often it's groundbreaking. Usually it's genius. And this time around, he casually put out a three-disc set — the sort of thing that’s usually reserved for retrospectives and The Clash, when they decide they want to put out “Sandinista.” And “Sandinista” was pretty uneven. “Orphans” is pretty damn close to perfect. I recommend paying close attention to his rendition of “Heigh Ho,” which he first recorded about 20 years ago. Those dwarfs were pretty fucking creepy and he sings it accordingly. Other than that, it’s just Tom Waits being Tom Freakin' Waits. And that, ladiies and gentlemen, is a very, very good thing.

BELLE & SEBASTIAN — "THE LIFE PURSUIT"
I’ve been a fan of Belle & Sebastian for about ten years now, and they’ve almost never let me down. [Check out “The Boy With The Arab Strap.”] When I heard they had a new album coming, I just figured they were going to do the same thing they'd done in their past couple albums. And by "past couple albums," I mean "entire career." Not that that was bad. But this time around, they replaced delicate melodies with volume. I’d always presumed that it never would have worked. I was wrong. Sue me. G'head. G'head. My counsel says you don't have a leg to stand on.

SUFJAN STEVENS — "THE AVALANCHE"
Last year, Sufjan Stevens put out “Come On Feel the Illinoise!” which was probably the best of 2005. This year he released its outtakes. How is it possible that an album of outtakes can be this good? I ask you, how? HOW???? Don’t answer. It was rhetorical. No, really, how is it possible? Answer me. Why is it every time we start talking about this, you find an excuse to leave the room? What about MY needs? Is it too much to ask you to listen to ME once in a while?? Y’know what? Forget it. I’m moving to Fresno to live with my parents.

NEKO CASE — "FOX CONFESSOR BRINGS THE FLOOD"
I'm a big fan of this one for several reasons. The first being that the tracks are just plain great. The second being that Neko Case has an outstanding voice. Maybe the second-best around. I say “second-best” because of the third reason this CD is so good. One of her backing vocalists on this one is Rachel Flotard of the band Visqueen, who, for my money, has the best female voice in rock. [Buy Visqueen’s catalogue on iTunes.] The combination of the two voices is deadly.

MIDLAKE — THE TRIALS OF VAN OCCUPANTHER
Not much to say about this one, except, damn! I mean… damn! A friend of mine sent me one of their tracks with the message, “this is your new favorite band.” And even though that’s not quite accurate…. DAMN.

CAT POWER — "THE GREATEST"
Ms. Marshall has put together a yet another package of songs. It's hard to top "We Are Free," but this one comes close. One thing, though: if you have a seizure disorder, treat the cover art like it's the sun. Reflective hot pink. Smart thinkin'.

JOHNNY CASH — "AMERICAN V: A HUNDRED HIGHWAYS"
The first music I can recall as a kid was Johnny Cash. I think it was “Live At San Quentin.” My dad has always been a huge fan. Anyhow, this one is an excellent farewell gift from the Man in Black. Worth it for "God's Gonna Cut You Down" alone. As much as I love his earliest work, an argument can be made that some of his best recordings were made in the last dozen years of his life. There’s something about the fragility of his voice that elevates the emotion and the meaning of the tracks.

CAMERA OBSCURA — "LET'S GET OUT OF THE COUNTRY"
Phil Spector's wall of sound meets kilts, haggis, and the Loch Ness Monster. That big, shiny sound hasn't sounded this great in years. Infectious tracks, seamless production. Camera Obscura used to be the stepsister to Belle & Sebastian. Not anymore. If you like hooky, smart songs, this is the CD for you. If you don't, I recommend Dave Mathews. Why? Because he blows. [Hey, I just calls 'em like I sees 'em. Admit it. You agree.]

BOB DYLAN — "MODERN TIMES"
There’s a reason Bob Dylan is Bob Dylan. It’s because he’s Bob Dylan. I’m pretty open-minded when it comes to the bands of the 60’s putting out new music today. I don’t think age should make a damn bit of difference. That said, it’s safe to say none of them is exactly in danger of topping anything they did in their collective prime. Nevertheless, I give ‘em a shot. Then there’s Bob Dylan [who, by coincidence is Bob Dylan]. I’m not a Dylan fanatic. But I do like him quite a bit. I own most of his albums; I actually like his voice; I think “Like A Rolling Stone” was one of the most important songs of the 60’s and it was a ballsy song to play at the Newport Folk Festival. But I’m not a student of the guy. HOWEVER! This album is tremendous. It’s a shining example of why Bob Dylan is one of the greatest songwriters of any era. [In other words, why he's Bob Dylan.] Even if you don’t like him, chances are, you’ll love this one. It would be the best of the year, were it not for…

TV ON THE RADIO — "RETURN TO COOKIE MOUNTAIN"
...this tremendous work of art. Okay. I lied. I guess there is SOME order to this list, because I’m ending with the very best of the year. This CD is remarkably good and unexpected. Completely different than any other album on this list. It’s a brilliant album front to back. And I’m proud to say that it features the track "A Method," which I used in the "Chloe" project. In fact, it's featured in the key scene. And I’m forever grateful to TVOTR. Hats off, gentlemen. Buy this. Now. Go to iTunes and buy it.

Honorable Mention:

THE DECEMBERISTS — "THE CRANE WIFE"
Their first major label effort — often just what a band needs in order to suck. This one manages to escape sucking, and then some.

MORRISSEY — "RINGLEADER OF THE TORMENTORS"
I thought "You Are the Quarry" was great. This one is better. Plus, it has the lyric, "Take anyone from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania just spare me." He hates Pittsburgh because we/they bitch about him. The problem is that we/they bitch about him because he always cancels shows there. But it still makes for a great lyric.

YO LA TENGO — "I AM NOT AFRAID OF YOU AND I WILL BEAT YOUR ASS"
Great CD, but an even better title.

BAND OF HORSES — "EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME"
The track "Funeral" is featured in "I Remember Chloe" because… because… well, because I like it. This is a good'un. Buy it and you'll be happy.

ELVIS COSTELLO — "MY FLAME BURNS BLUE"
I had no choice. It’s Declan McManus and he’s gonna make the list no matter what.

Without whom none of this would have been possible.

2006-12-19T21:14:00.000-08:00

I’ve mentioned several times how tremendous Steve Parys, Jeff Garton, and the crew were, but I’ve never talked about the talent in front of the camera.

Eryn Joslyn, Alex Hooper, and Theo Allyn — three actors who made the biggest impact on the project, performance-wise. But more than that, they taught me how to direct. Yeah, I’d directed before, but they taught me more in twelve days than I’d been taught in the years since my time at Pittsburgh Filmmakers.

The point I'm clumsily trying to make is that great actors create great directors.
[Above, Theo, Eryn, and Alex on the set, prepping to shoot "Some Bad Fish."]

The single most important lesson I learned was that actors should learn their lines frontwards, backwards, and every other kind of wards imaginable. Then forget them. Given the option, I’d rather an actor go with his or her intuition than to follow the words I’ve written on the page. Unless, of course, I want mediocre performances. And given the three actors in question, a mediocre performance was highly unlikely. Had we the time, they could have created whole scenes only roughly based on the writing.

Having worked with her closest, my lead actress, Eryn, taught me the most. She knew exactly what questions to ask and how to ask them. She navigated the dialogue with seemingly great ease. And she always brought her own ideas to the the part and the set. In short, she became Chloe. So much so, I don’t even remember what my image of Chloe had been for the six years prior to production. She managed to erase that image and replace it with her own interpretation.

Eryn was the lynch pin to this whole thing and I’ll forever be indebted to her. I’d take her over any actor anywhere. Bar none. She was meant to play the role and the very fact that I found her when I did is beyond belief.

So let me give you some advice: the next time you want to make a movie, give yourself one week to find all of the actors, be dissatisfied with the choices for the lead role, search for a choice you can live with and do so during Fourth of July weekend (when the rest of the world is on vacation), go online to find someone you can live with, convince her you’re not a stalker, audition her, come to realize — within the first thirty seconds — that she’s exactly the actor you’ve been looking for, and give her the role on the spot.

Successful casting is that easy.

Los Angeles is a work of fiction.

2006-12-19T14:33:00.000-08:00

Not just because of all of the augmentation, of which there is much. It’s also fiction because so many of the people are synthetic, which is in no way a shock, but it always makes for interesting viewing. Everywhere you go there are people posing as stars and selling themselves – or I should say, their souls. Everybody wants to be somebody. Somebody should tell them that they’re vapid, but somebody’s too busy trying to be somebody. [I think I just pulled a muscle.] There are a lot of people walking around with meaningful pouting on their faces, auditioning for the next U2 album cover. And that’s a lot of pouting — I mean, “The Joshua Tree” alone... The problem, I suspect, is that they don’t realize that “star” isn’t a respectable job. “Actor” is much more respectable and, on very rare occasion, far more lucrative.

Then there are what is referred to as “star-fuckers.” You, me, and most of the free world refers to these individuals as “ass kissers,” [it’s my understanding that the Swiss do not] but, hey, when in Rome, right? In any case, the star-fuckers are the ones who kiss up to Doogie Houser, whom I saw at a restaurant, surrounded by a group of people comprised entirely of the aforementioned type of individual. This said, I, evidently, am not a star-fucker, because I could have cared less. (I think I could take him in a street fight. No, wait— I KNOW I could take him. And if that little bastard would have so much has glanced at me oddly… well, let’s just say he’d have needed that medical degree. Fictitious or otherwise. Neither Harold nor Kumar could have helped him. [I’m like a wildcat. Don’t cross me.]

Fortunately, I’ve been meeting with genuine people. Managers, agents, and directors — people you’d expect to be fake, but, strangely enough, aren’t. It’s possible I could get work out here. To be more accurate, without going into detail — well, avoiding detail like the plague — things have gone unbelievably, insanely, ridiculously and outrageously well.

In fact, I’ve found my calling. And that calling is to be Neil Patrick Harris’ personal assistant.

I start the first of the year.

more jolly in one place than i'm comfortable with.

2006-11-30T14:30:00.000-08:00

You never know how you’ll react when confronted with a herd of Santas. But that’s what happened to me this morning. Didn’t expect it to happen, but there they were, standing on W 49th street, all jolly and gay. Some 20 or so Santas [real beards – none of that fake facial hair crap]. There was no visible explanation. They were all just standing there. Looking commercial; looking Christmas.

[I'm not sure, but at one point, I saw one of them go into his pocket, all Travis Bickle-like.]

So. I ask, “What’s up with the Santa thing?” One of them turned, and in a very thick Brooklyn accent said, “Heyyy, fellah. We’uh hee’uh foh Coca-Cola. Some soo’at of promotion.” I almost expected Father Christmas to say, “What that fock’s it to you??”

I’m now frightened by the prospect of him seeing me when I’m sleeping. And so should you.

But I was half-tempted to ask one of them about my Big Wheel. "What's the story with you making those things so cheap? After, like, ten rides, the damn wheel was cracked. And those elves? I say you can 'em. Sonsabitches. Get yourself a tribe of Oompa Loompas."

war, money, and richard nixon.

2006-11-26T22:57:00.000-08:00

Cash.

I do love Johnny Cash. Being that my father’s a huge fan, it’s the first music I can recall hearing. Cash is also something I like to do with my checks. Having it around tends to be more enjoyable than not. And, believe me, I’ve been on both sides of the coin.

I mention cash because I’d like to share a position of mine, and I’d love to hear some feedback on it. (Unless you disagree. I mean, you think I really want to hear that?)

Anyhow, here's a thing: why the hell isn’t there just one currency in the world?

In my mind, if we tossed all of the national currencies of the world and embraced one global currency, the earth's population might — MIGHT — engage in fewer wars. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?

To put it into perspective, I gotta go back.

One theory on the war in Iraq — which I happen to agree with — is that it has much to do with Richard Nixon. Nixon was a well-documented asshole. Check the history books. It’s right there, in the pages between Sirhan Sirhan and Squeaky Fromme.

But while President Nixon was an asshole (mind you, given the current administration, he’s starting to look like Chester A. Arthur), he was also one smart bastard. ‘Cause in 1972, he made a deal with OPEC. In that deal, he somehow managed to get the oil guys to agree to use the U.S. dollar for all financial transactions, thereby keeping our greenbacks valuable.

A few years ago? Yeah, Iraq said they were going to use the Euro instead.

But I’m sure it’s all just a coincidence. No, really. I’m sure we’re there to give them the gift of freedom. Like Putin distributing polonium-210.

So — sorry, Bush supporters — the war is about cash. Don't look at me like that. The word "freedom" means about as much as the word "quality." So go back to Narnia and deal.

Okay. Back to my point. Does it not make sense that, if there were one shared currency, the new currency would become education, skill, and man-power? Would it not, in theory, decrease the desire to set up shop in other nations?

I’m just throwing it out there. I may be smoking crack and such an act may plunge us all into a global depression. So, by all means, tell me if you think I am.

serial quarterback.

2006-11-26T17:07:00.000-08:00

Is it just me or does the name "John David Booty" sound like a serial killer whose victims are made up entirely of women whom Sir Mix-A-Lot admires?

(This would make him the second USC Trojan guilty of murder.)

post-production post.

2006-11-26T16:31:00.000-08:00

I start off this posting with a random thought (as if the rest of it won’t be): you’d think that if you owned a restaurant called “Colony,” your first priority, signage-wise, would be to make absolutely certain that the big, neon “Y” would never burn out. Turns out not everybody thinks of these things. No one should have to look up and be faced with that.

Except maybe Kyle. (Everyone who knows Kyle finds this funny. And even if you don’t, you still might.)

It’s been a waaaaay long time since I’ve posted, obviously, and a lot has happened in post-production. We’re in what could be the homestretch. That is, until the executives have their say. And it’s my assumption that they will. It’s not a complaint, it’s the nature of the mechanism. But this could mean another few weeks of production. We shall see.

At just under 90 minutes, we’ve made a feature-length movie. One that is, in the creator’s opinion, a little uneven. Nevertheless, to shoot an entire feature in 13 days is staggering. It’s fast-forward and then some. As nobody I know would say, "it's wicked fast."

People have told me that our method of shooting was extremely ambitious. Hadn’t thought of it that way. But what they’re talking about is the fact that each scene is one continuous shot. There are no cut-aways. We shot no coverage whatsoever. What this means is that we had no safety net. If someone blew a line, we had to start over from the beginning. Even if we were on the last line of dialogue, we had to start from the beginning. And while this was, at times, frustrating, it also served the fly-on-the-wall idea this project has always been.

If you know me (and if you don’t, why one earth would you be here — though, most of the people who DO know me are asking themselves the same question), you know that I’ve never been entirely happy with anything I’ve done. Including many, many, many first dates. And a prom night. And my dinner selection last night. And many, many, many other things. The same applies to this project. Some nights I wake up a bundle of nerves, absolutely certain that I did my job poorly. Other times I feel what could best be described as satisfaction.

I’m sure — or at least hope — most of my concerns are within the details that only I, Stevo, and Jeff will see. But they’re there. In any case, the court of public opinion will judge.

But, I gotta say, give me the standard schedule for a film shoot, and good things will happen. So if you know anyone who can make that happen…

This makes me laugh.

2006-11-11T11:11:00.000-08:00

Why?

Is it because I'm a cold, heartless bastard? No, but I am.

No. It makes me laugh because when an American Nazi loses his job, I find it terribly, terribly funny. Even if it has an impact on his children. Sure, they didn't choose to be born into a life of white power. But they're still guilty by association.

Sounds awful. But it isn't, really. I just hate Nazis.

music.

2006-11-06T18:46:00.000-08:00

In 2001, I emailed Bertis Downs. Bertis has a pretty good job: manager of R.E.M. In the email, I explained that I had an idea that was a little different and I thought R.E.M. would be perfect for it. Two days later, he called me back, explaining, "I have no idea why I'm calling you. I get emails liked yours every single day but for some reason, I felt compelled to respond to yours."

By the end of the call, he was sold. "I think the band would be very interested in that."

And that's where it started. Bertis gave me a contact at the Network and, about a year later, I had my first meeting. Unfortunately, budget prohibits us from R.E.M.'s involvement, but special thanks to Mr. Downs. He gets the first in a long line of thank yous.

It makes sense that the pea at the top of the mountain that is this project was a conversation about music. It probably isn't exactly a shocker to anyone when I say that music is a thing for me.

A big thing.

And every time I'm in New York, the same musicians come to mind: Bob Dylan. Leonard Cohen. Monk. Mingus. Coltrane. The Ramones. The Velvet Underground. And, for this trip, since I have to pass The Ed Sullivan Theater every morning and evening, The Beatles. All pretty great, right?

Don't answer. I already know.

Nnn- I said don't answer. Man. Some people.

I usually want to walk around 52nd street, where Birdland once stood. However, I have no interest in visiting the former site of Minton's Playhouse, on 118th Street. But I never do. [For anyone who isn't sure why, just listen to "Across 110th Street." It should explain everything.] Instead, for one reason or another, I end up somewhere around CBGB's or Max's Kansas City — both of which give Minton's and Birdland a run for their money.

Then there's The Brill Building — also on the way to my temp job. ...What? "The Brill Building?" Phil Spector. Neil Diamond. Carol King.

Never mind.

Anyhow, it makes sense that, at some point, the topic of music should come up on this blog. Like, say, now.

Over the next few weeks, I'll be in the sound design portion of our program. [And playing the roll of Terrence McClusky will be the talented Mr. Omar Epps.] I know I say this about every phase, but I really do love sound design. With a few strategic clicks of the mouse — okay, maybe more — a brilliant sound engineer can create explosions, tidal waves, Beatlemania, the birth of a platypus, and moon landings out of nothing. And I've been fortunate to work with truly brilliant engineers.

This time round is no different. I had never met Michael Wolf until this project, but within five minutes I knew we were going to get along famously. Jeff Garton made me look good. Michael will make me sound good. As will the bands we're compiling for the project.

I'm excited to have bands like TV on the Radio, The Doves, and Sigur Ros involved, because it's been years since they've played in their parents' garage. And they're being heard, which is nice.

Just as exciting for me is the involvement of bands that really should be heard - bands like The Gits. Anyone who enjoys enjoying punk will enjoy them. Whether they like it or not. And Matt Dresdner — friend and Gits bass player — was good enough to let me use one of their tracks for one of the stranger installments. I won't go into the scenario, but much thanks to him for being open minded. [Get The Gits' entire catalogue on iTunes.]

Next up is Visqueen. I can't say enough good things about them. To describe — infectious power pop comes to mind, but it's more than that. Rachel Flotard has an incredible voice. She too has been great about using her music, despite logistical nightmares. [Get Visqueen's entire catalogue on iTunes.]

At this point, thanks should be given to my good friend Seif "Gooshmandzadeh" Hamid for contributing one of his tracks —which would be yet another favor he's done for me on this thing. Not the least of which being lending his name to one of the characters. [Goosh, Seif. Goosh.]

All told, we have about a dozen tracks lined up for the soundtrack, featuring IQU, Band of Horses, United States of Electronica, and The Bees (U.S.). And I owe all of 'em a debt of gratitude.

And the network owes all of 'em greenbacks.

signs of the times square.

2006-10-30T19:42:00.000-08:00

There's something surreal about leaving the tranquility of a darkened editing suite and stepping out into buzz and lights of Times Square. It's like walking into New Year's Eve. Or somewhere where people might gather for New Year's Eve, wherever that is. And what makes this even stranger is when you hear the words, "Hey. Borat is here today." (These words, evidently, cause people to behave as if the Beatles have just reformed to play "The Best of Oasis." All one song of it.)

By the way, Times Square, in my world, is actually Seizure Square. ("Seizures really can come, true.")

We're well into editing the project, and the more we do, the less my editor, Rebecca, and I feel like we can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Still to come is sound design, color correction, and soundtrack - though, the soundtrack odds and ends are being handled concurrently.

There's no question that shooting is an extremely taxing, but enormously satisfying process. I love it. Particularly when I get to make the calls. (Who didn't see that comin'? But hey, when your calls are the correct ones... ) Even so, I've always loved the editing process too. Even though you have a video monitor on set, you don't really get to take in the detail of a shot until you're sitting in that suite, in front of several large monitors. And by "take in the details," I mean "dissect." And while dissection usually means that life thereafter is out of the question, it's just the opposite with editing.

The footage is just beautiful. Again, not enough praise can be showered down on the brilliant Jeff Garton. I couldn't be happier with the way it all looks.

I'm fortunate to be working with a tremendous editor. Rebecca is extremely talented, has an open and creative mind, and we dance well together. (It strikes me that I've had the same good fortune a number of times before, only to have the biosphere trashed by one arrogant colleague or another. Aaahhh... the ego-less world of advertising.)

Towards the end of our day, we discussed a new visual idea I'd had the night before as I trudged away from the bar where I'd just witnessed the Steelers get trounced right proper. It's one of those ideas that, when you put voice to thought, ends up beginning, "tell me if you think this is insane..." And by the time we left the suite about an hour later, I had a shot of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Jeff and Rebecca are making me look pretty damn good.

Can't wait to get back tomorrow morning.

food stuffs.

2006-10-30T18:26:00.000-08:00

I enjoy food. In fact, I try to eat it everyday. That's just the way I've always been. And if you, like me, consider yourself to be a food enthusiast, I recommend you come to New York City. There are a lot of restaurants here. And some of them are very, very good.

One of the restaurants I enjoy enjoying when I visit New York is Katz's Deli. Katz's is what I like to call, "The Church of Dresdner" - a reference to sandwich enthusiast, Matt Dresdner. Most of you don't know Matt, but he has a sandwich named after him in Columbus, aptly named, "The Matt Special." I do not, however, recommend that you order a The Matt Special when in Thailand. I won't elaborate, but suffice it to say, you've been warned. (In a strange coincidence, if you order "Matt's Special" at Cantor's Deli in Los Angeles, you get the same sandwich. I know. Try not to think about it. But I digress, as usual...)

Back to Katz's.

Made famous by Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally, Katz's is best known for its food. And if you go, I have one word for you: brisket with mustard on rye with a sweet potato knish and an egg cream. [arc.]

I also recommend Pastis. I can think of no better French-inspired cuisine in the city.

My point?

Despite the quality and attention to detail for which both Pastis and Katz's are known, there is no better food establishment in New York than a place called T.G.I. Friday's. There are several throughout the city and I would argue that T.G.I.F. is the best reason to visit here. They have these things called "chicken sandwiches" as well as "cobb salads," and let me tell you, once you've had 'em, every other restaurant is wrecked.

So if you really want to experience New York, do as bus loads of seniors do - pile out of the bus, pull up a chair, and get the best pot stickers that American greenbacks can buy.

Mmm! You can really taste the gentrification!

the view from up there.

2006-10-29T08:03:00.000-08:00

some views from the brooklyn bridge.

the brooklyn bridge.

2006-10-29T00:16:00.000-07:00

I've always had a problem with snapshots. This is because I'm a terrible snob. I'm a music snob. I'm a movie snob. I'm a food and wine snob. And I'm unrepentant because I LIKE The Clash. I LIKE "The Fog Of War." I LIKE the Venus Diner's coffee and pie.

Yeah. I'm a snob.

But think about it: YOU love the music YOU love. No one can tell you that Mr. Mister was a talented band. YOU love the movies YOU love. No one can tell you that "Titanic" is a great film. You, then, are a snob too. You just have to embrace it as I have, you freakin' snob, you.

Oh, yeah. I said it.

Anyhow, my snobbery, at times, is manifested in my approach to photography. Granted, I have no right to actually BE a snob. When it comes to photography I'm no Annie Leibowitz or Barry Goldwater. But that's what a snob does. A snob is blind. So I'm a blind photographer. (You'll soon agree.) I figure, when you're at a landmark known the world over, unless you're taking a picture of a friend or loved one, or you can calculate that you've got maybe ten good years left, at best, you probably ought to just buy the postcard. (In the case of the latter, you may want to take the snapshot AND buy the postcard. What? Don't look at me that way, you snob.)

This in mind, as I walked through Manhattan and Brooklyn today, I felt like a tourist. I wanted to tell people, "Look, I'm not like these other people. I'm from out of town and I'm taking pictures of famous New York landmarks with my camera, here. So then, you know... I'm... I'm not like these other people... See?"

In all the years I've visited New York, I've never once walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. I have no idea why. I guess it's never come up, really. So I thought today would be a good day to change that. I did, after all, have to visit Grimaldi's for lunch. (For those of you unfamiliar, Grimaldi's is arguably the best pizzeria in New York, if not the country — other than, of course, Pizzaiolo in Mt. Lebanon, PA. See? Snob.)

So below you'll find the fruits of my hunger and snobbery. And, yeah, I'm sure most who visit this blog will look at them and say, "Ew. This guy's no Barry Goldwater," but I like 'em. And it's my blog, so that's where I come down on the "ew-this-guy-isn't-Barry-Goldwater" argument.

There you have it. This is what I did yesterday.

2006-10-26T18:15:00.000-07:00

Stevo and me, on the set.

Not for nothin' but there are three things that annoy me about New York City:

1. There's absolutely nothing to do.
2: There are no attractive women whatsoever.
3. People are entirely too polite.

My kingdom for a cubicle in which to work and a spots bar in which to eat wings.
I'm just sayin'.

2006-10-25T21:52:00.000-07:00

These are pictures of me attempting to look like I know what I'm doing. I think the actors are onto me...

If I live to be one hundred, I'll never tire of the view as you land at Laguardia at night. Maybe the only thing better is taking off.

So here I am, 14 floors over 58th street, just a block away from Columbus Circle. The hotel is one of those posh numbers, in a Manhattan kind of way. Angular. Clean. Shoe box-sized.

How did I get here? Well, Delta flight 3269. (Note to self: Don't read over the shoulder of the guy seated next to you, reading government documents about the Iraq War. You'll just end up hating him and yourself. Wait. That ship has sailed. Shit.) But also two weeks of shooting, which ended on Saturday night.

The two weeks spent on the set were both incredibly taxing and incredibly satisfying. Never have I slept so little and garnered so much satisfaction. (Unless you count prom night. Let's just say, I still feel filthy. And that mascot had it coming.)

I stood there at midnight (technically Sunday morning), in the 40° weather with enormous lights shining down on a parking lot in Pittsburgh's South Side, and realized that I, with the help of many, many outrageously talented people, was actually making a movie.

The most amazing and talented of those involved were/are Stevo Parys (my Co-Director) and Jeff Garton (the best Director of Photography anywhere). Without whom I would have been screwed. ("Screwed," for those of you who don't know, is an industry term. I think it was coined by Claudette Colbert, that hussie.) In the time Stevo, Jeff and I began talking about it, the project went from mine to ours. If I'm fortunate enough to do this sort of thing more often, I can't imagine doing it without them. They're brilliant. I'm an impostor.

For two weeks, I got the chance to instruct actors to speak the lines I had written. And there we were shooting the last of it. The actors' first position for the scene was just inside the entrance to a hall called the Sokal Club. About two minutes before our first take, I looked around at all of the crew preping at the far side of the lot and took it all in. I wanted to capture it in my head because someday I might be 70 years old. (Many of you, I'm sure, would argue that this is unlikely.) After soaking it up, I went into the building to speak to the cast.

I said, "So this is it, everyone. When you walk out this door, you'll be acting out the last of a dialogue that began in my head six years ago. It's been a privilege." And not terribly long after, Stevo uttered the words I had been both anticipating and dreading — "That's a wrap, people."

So here I am, 14 floors over 58th street, just a block away from Columbus Circle. The hotel is one of those posh numbers, in a Manhattan kind of way. Angular. Clean. Shoe box-sized...

Welcome to Common Terry

2006-10-23T20:09:00.000-07:00

This is my blog. And there's nothing you can do about it, really. All you CAN do is stop reading. But you're still reading, aren't you? Yes. You are. So I guess you're just stuck with me. Wait— Are you trying to say that you think I look fat? It was just one cheese danish. What's so wrong with that? Hey, it could have been worse. They had those chocolate pound cake jobs. Those are dense, and dense equals fat. Lots and lots of fat. But, no, you go ahead and keep on judging me. I'm not sure who you think you are, coming round here, judging me, but I'll tell you what you're not —— tactful. That's what.

Look, ((((((sigh)))))) I think we got off on the wrong foot. Let's just start over...