House Poor: Episode One.
"It's like someone's kicking you in the stomach, but you like it."
LINKS:
Strike TV: House Poor (website)
Things I've Bought That I Love (Mindy Kaling's blog, which does exactly as it says on the tin.)
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Mindy Kaling. Web Series. That's It.
House Poor: Episode One.
"It's like someone's kicking you in the stomach, but you like it."
LINKS:
Strike TV: House Poor (website)
Things I've Bought That I Love (Mindy Kaling's blog, which does exactly as it says on the tin.)
Monday, October 27, 2008
MIXTAPE MONDAYS: Dancing With the Devil By the Pale Moonlight
(Every Monday at Tragically Hipster we'll feature a look at a band, performance, or vague musical concept, with an accompanying virtual mixtape for your listening pleasure. There's no need to thank us; it's just one more service we like to provide for you, our dedicated readers. Most of whom also write for this site.)
This is for when the radio is broken and crackles like uranium orchids.
This is for when the fohn-wind rattles the telegraph wires like a handful of bones.
This is for when dream ambulances skitter through the streets at midnight.
This is for when you get caught in a sleep-riot and the sky is out of order.
This is for when your sex is full of voodoo.
This is for when your clothes are imaginary.
This is for when your flesh creeps and never comes back.
All Hallow's Eve is perhaps our all-time favorite holiday here at Tragically Hipster headquarters, and so accordingly we produce this week a mix of fiendish devilry to dance by. Dark scores; satanic rhythms; tales of terror; flesh of the undead; ghoulishly galvanizing beats; things that go bump-bump in the night -- we provide it all here in a single conveniently streaming package, with special guest spots reserved for appearances by Alfred Hitchcock and Vincent Price, the season's patron saints.
On the Mixtape:
*It's fair to say that "Magic and Ecstasy" is pretty much the only redeeming thing to come from the otherwise unwisely-conceived Exorcist sequel, Exorcist II: The Heretic. In a spectacular display of what it means to be unclear on the concept, John Boorman's sequel took everything that made the original film compelling -- its atmosphere, its subtlety, its impossibly solid grounding in reality -- and threw it all out the window in favor of pseudo-science and cheap gothic thrills:
*Improbably, the Sinister Ducks is a collaboration between Bauhaus bassist David J and comic book writer Allan Moore. A one-off single in the early 80's, the pair would later work together again on Moore's album The Moon and Serpent Grand Egyptian Theatre of Marvels.
*One of the most memorable sequences in David Lynch's first film Eraserhead occurs when a lady in a radiator sings a song about the glories of the afterlife, appropriately titled In Heaven. The song has become an unlikely favorite of alt-rock bands everywhere: Bauhaus performed a cover at their final live show of their pre-reunion career; The Pixies' version is a fan favorite; and then of course there's the Miranda Sex Garden take featured here. But for pure surrealism, nothing beats the original:
Dancing With the Devil By the Pale Moonlight Mixtape
This is for when the fohn-wind rattles the telegraph wires like a handful of bones.
This is for when dream ambulances skitter through the streets at midnight.
This is for when you get caught in a sleep-riot and the sky is out of order.
This is for when your sex is full of voodoo.
This is for when your clothes are imaginary.
This is for when your flesh creeps and never comes back.
All Hallow's Eve is perhaps our all-time favorite holiday here at Tragically Hipster headquarters, and so accordingly we produce this week a mix of fiendish devilry to dance by. Dark scores; satanic rhythms; tales of terror; flesh of the undead; ghoulishly galvanizing beats; things that go bump-bump in the night -- we provide it all here in a single conveniently streaming package, with special guest spots reserved for appearances by Alfred Hitchcock and Vincent Price, the season's patron saints.
On the Mixtape:
Quick Notes on Select Songs:
1) "Music to Be Murdered By" by Alfred Hitchcock
2) "This is Halloween" by Danny Elfman
3) "Somebody's Watching Me (Thriller Mix)" by Rockwell featuring Michael Jackson and Vincent Price
4) "Pet Semetary" by Ramones
5) "At the Munsters'" by The Munsters
6) "Magic and Ecstasy (The Power of Christ Mix)" by Ennio Morricone
7) "Spellbound" by Siouxsie & The Banshees
8) "A Christian Perspective" by Mike Warnke
9) "No One Lives Forever" by Oingo Boingo
10) "Hell" by Squirrel Nut Zippers
11) "Red Right Hand" by Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds
12) "Halloween (Theme)" by John Carpenter
13) "The Hanging Garden" by The Cure
14) "1-800 SUICIDE" by Gravediggaz
15) "Living Dead Girl (Naked Exorcism Mix)" by Rob Zombie
16) "The Horror" by RJD2
17) "Mask" by Bauhaus
18) "Bela Lugosi's Dead (The Blood is the Life Mix)" by Nouvelle Vague
19) "Blue Flowers Revisited" by Dr. Octagon
20) "Monologue" by She Wants Revenge
21) "March of the Sinister Ducks" by The Sinister Ducks
22) "In Heaven" by Miranda Sex Garden
23) "The Hour of Parting" by Alfred Hitchcock and Danny Elfman
*It's fair to say that "Magic and Ecstasy" is pretty much the only redeeming thing to come from the otherwise unwisely-conceived Exorcist sequel, Exorcist II: The Heretic. In a spectacular display of what it means to be unclear on the concept, John Boorman's sequel took everything that made the original film compelling -- its atmosphere, its subtlety, its impossibly solid grounding in reality -- and threw it all out the window in favor of pseudo-science and cheap gothic thrills:
*Improbably, the Sinister Ducks is a collaboration between Bauhaus bassist David J and comic book writer Allan Moore. A one-off single in the early 80's, the pair would later work together again on Moore's album The Moon and Serpent Grand Egyptian Theatre of Marvels.
*One of the most memorable sequences in David Lynch's first film Eraserhead occurs when a lady in a radiator sings a song about the glories of the afterlife, appropriately titled In Heaven. The song has become an unlikely favorite of alt-rock bands everywhere: Bauhaus performed a cover at their final live show of their pre-reunion career; The Pixies' version is a fan favorite; and then of course there's the Miranda Sex Garden take featured here. But for pure surrealism, nothing beats the original:
Dancing With the Devil By the Pale Moonlight Mixtape
Thursday, October 23, 2008
THIS WEEKEND: Undead Burlesque!
It'll be a lot like this, but sexy.Once again it's time for the vixenous vamps of the Orange County
WHERE: The Hunger Artists Theater in Fullerton
WHEN: Friday and Saturday Nights, October 24th thru November 1st, 2008 @ 11:00pm.
COST: $15 (though you will be annoyingly unable to find that information anywhere on their website)
MORE INFO: http://www.hungerartists.net/ocubs/
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
WEDNESDAY: Michel Gondry Book Launch and Signing
Tomorrow night the uber-cool "curated bookstore" Family on Fairfax will play host to filmmaker Michel Gondry, as he launches two new books -- one a do-it-yourself semi-memoir inspired in part by his film Be Kind Rewind, called You Like This Film Because You're in It; the other a comic book written and drawn by Gondry titled We Lost the War But Not the Battle, which Family describes as an "action-packed comic book [which] tells the story of four friends, the French army, and a beautifully horrifying conspiracy to take over the world. This one has it all: guns, girls, death, friendship, Mia Farrow, and so much more." The launch will be followed by a signing and a live DJ set from J-Lep.
For those in need of a brief refresher course in the sparkling hallows of Mr. Gondry's imagination, Tragically Hipster is once again pleased to oblige:
"Fell in Love With a Girl" (music video)
"Les Callioux" (music video)
"If You Rescue Me" (from The Science of Sleep)
WHERE: Family on Fairfax
WHEN: Wednesday, October 22nd 2008 @ 7:30p.m.
COST: Free, but you should probably buy something and support cool local businesses.
MORE INFO:Family website.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Special Note for Sarah Treem: Meredith Monk at REDCAT
A few months back I took in a performance of Sarah Treem's play A Feminine Ending at South Coast Repertory. Though it was by and large an enjoyable piece, the music lover in me couldn't help but be irked when the main character -- a young wannabe composer with the aggravating name of Amanda Blue -- monologued at length about how she had searched extensively but had yet to discover a single major female composer. Sitting in my seat, I could think of at least three, and the fact that the character couldn't meant either that she was remarkably uneducated in her chosen field or that the playwright who created her had deliberately skimped in her research, probably for thematic expediency's sake.
All of which is a roundabout way of getting to the point, which is that next week the Los Angeles REDCAT center will host the area premier of Songs of Ascension by Meredith Monk and Ann Hamilton.
Songs of Ascension Preview
The REDCAT website, ever willing to reduce its hyperbole to the merest whisper, describes the performance thusly: "Soaring to a grand scale of artistic gesture and ambition, this major new multimedia work reunites two of the most influential artists in the United States today. Monk’s signature form of incantatory music-theater finds an uncanny match in Hamilton’s sensuous visual artistry as the full-evening piece channels an exploration of the spiritual, vocal, and physical notions of ascension across geography and time."
Future Amanda Blues of our readership would do well to check out Peter Greenaway's documentary on Ms. Monk, thoughtfully broken up into component parts and posted for all of the internet to enjoy on the ever-useful YouTube:
(Further segments of the documentary can be found here.)
WHERE: The REDCAT theater in Los Angeles.
WHEN: October 28th through November 2nd, 2008.
COST: $30-$35 general admission, $24-$28 students
MORE INFO: REDCAT Website
All of which is a roundabout way of getting to the point, which is that next week the Los Angeles REDCAT center will host the area premier of Songs of Ascension by Meredith Monk and Ann Hamilton.
Songs of Ascension Preview
The REDCAT website, ever willing to reduce its hyperbole to the merest whisper, describes the performance thusly: "Soaring to a grand scale of artistic gesture and ambition, this major new multimedia work reunites two of the most influential artists in the United States today. Monk’s signature form of incantatory music-theater finds an uncanny match in Hamilton’s sensuous visual artistry as the full-evening piece channels an exploration of the spiritual, vocal, and physical notions of ascension across geography and time."
Future Amanda Blues of our readership would do well to check out Peter Greenaway's documentary on Ms. Monk, thoughtfully broken up into component parts and posted for all of the internet to enjoy on the ever-useful YouTube:
(Further segments of the documentary can be found here.)
WHERE: The REDCAT theater in Los Angeles.
WHEN: October 28th through November 2nd, 2008.
COST: $30-$35 general admission, $24-$28 students
MORE INFO: REDCAT Website
Sunday, October 19, 2008
MIXTAPE MONDAYS: 20 Years of They Might Be Giants' "Lincoln"
(Every Monday at Tragically Hipster we'll feature a look at a band, performance, or vague musical concept, with an accompanying virtual mixtape for your listening pleasure. There's no need to thank us; it's just one more service we like to provide for you, our dedicated readers. Most of whom also write for this site.)
For my maiden voyage here at Tragically Hipster, "Greg" has given me the opportunity to host this week's Mixtape Monday. I thought I'd begin by honoring an album that had a marked impact on me as a musician, artist and person in general and that recently turned 20: They Might Be Giants' masterpiece, Lincoln.
It must have been shortly after the release of this album when They Might Be Giants first came to my attention. I was 11 at the time and have clear memories of watching a Dr. Demento video special on cable when the bizarre video for "Ana Ng" popped up on the screen. I know I had never seen anything like it before. What I was witnessing was post-modern MTV (before it was called that), a sort of Dadaist concept for music video. (TMBG would further explore this concept two years later with their video for "Birdhouse in Your Soul," in which dozens of people in identical plaid shirts and masks marched in a circle, wearing signs that said "STOP ROCK VIDEO.")
But more than anything, it was the song that grabbed me...especially that unforgettable chorus, with its jangly instrumentation and frenetic recitation of long sentences, like some nonsensical version of "Schoolhouse Rock":
Ana Ng and I are getting old
And we still haven't walked in the glow of each others' majestic presence
Listen Ana, hear my words
They're the ones you would think I would say
If there was a me for you
I don't remember getting ahold of the tape of Lincoln until the next summer, which I was spending at my grandparents' house in Palm Desert (as I often did). On that same day, I also picked up "Weird Al" Yankovic's In 3-D album, which would jump start another, albeit minor, obsession. (Unlike TMBG, that obsession ran out of gas around 1991.)
Those two albums became my soundtrack for the summer of 1989. I would sit and play both albums over and over on my grandma's old portable cassette player: a little box with a handle, a crude speaker and big white keys on it.
I had absolutely no comparison points to draw from for Lincoln, which often makes me wonder if it was the first true "alternative" album I ever owned. (I had picked up 10,000 Maniacs' In My Tribe two years earlier, but that's not even on the same planet as Lincoln.) It didn't sound like anything I'd ever heard before (or since, really). These were skewered pop songs in a myriad of different styles using synthesizers, guitars, drum machines (it would be another four years before TMBG would begin recruiting live musicians for their recordings and stage shows), brass, zithers, banjos, glockenspiels and even a string quartet.
I would often tell people the band reminded me of "Weird Al," but in a few years' time it became clear to me that I was making this comparison based largely on perfunctory aesthetic qualities. For instance, like Al, TMBG's John Linnell often sings with a nasal whine. (Oddly enough, Al's overly earnest balladeer voice also smacks of John Flansburgh.) And of course there's TMBG's predominant use of accordion, certainly a rarity in the pop world of the late 1980s.
And then there are those lyrics, many of which often come off as "silly" (and surely, some of them are) but some of which prove to be deeper and occasionally even profound upon closer inspection. I remember poring over the lyric sheet of Lincoln continuously as I listened. Songs like "Cowtown" were obvious fun, but what of "Purple Toupee"?
I remember the year I went to camp
Heard about some lady named Selma and some blacks
Somebody put their fingers in the president's ears
And it wasn't too much later they came out with Johnson's wax
I remember the book depository
Where they crowned the king of Cuba
That's all I can think of, but I'm sure there's something else
Way down inside me I can feel it coming back
Nowadays, it seems obvious that the song is a brilliant play on words about American history...about someone who misremembers significant events (or, at the very least, a speaker who is trying to mask them...an unreliable narrator of sorts).
At the time, though, the "Johnson's wax" line made me laugh and that was all I cared about.
The full potency of some of these songs (especially the sad ones) didn't hit me until years later. For instance, Linnell's perfectly crafted "They'll Need a Crane" encapsulates the disintegration of a relationship in a way that few songs do, particularly in the frenetic bridge section, in which Linnell almost free associates:
Don't call me at work again, oh no
The boss still hates me, I'm just tired
And I don't love you anymore
And there's a restaurant we should check out where the other nightmare people like to go
I mean nice people
Baby wait, I didn't mean to say nightmare...
The band saves its most daring statement for the last track...the devastating indictment of power, greed, narcissism and mind control, "Kiss Me, Son of God," a song whose lyrics are so powerful and clever that they beg to be printed in full:
I built a little empire out of some crazy garbage
Called "the blood of the exploited working class"
But they've overcome their shyness
Now they're calling me Your Highness
And a world screams "kiss me, son of God!"
I destroyed a bond of friendship and respect
Between the only people left who'd even look me in the eye
Now I laugh and make a fortune
Off the same ones that I tortured
And a world screams "kiss me, son of God!"
I look like Jesus
So they say
But Mr. Jesus is very far away
Now you're the only one here who can tell me if it's true
That you love me and I love me
And to think that my 12 year old mind wondered if this song meant they were a Christian band...
Lincoln presents an interesting dichotomy in that it contains many of the band's most profound songs (some of which are incredibly somber, not something the band is typically known for) seated next to just as many that are unabashedly silly. Linnell's dour analysis of a relationship, "I've Got a Match," is followed by Flansburgh's ridiculous "Santa's Beard," in which the narrator alleges that his girlfriend is cheating on him with a Santa Claus impersonator. Flansburgh's mournful "Piece of Dirt" sits alongside the ridiculously glorious, faux military march of "Pencil Rain." ("They're searching the yonder blue/they look out for number two.") For every "They'll Need a Crane" you have a "Cowtown." You get the picture.
And yet, somehow, this collection of songs works well together as a cohesive whole. Lincoln, like a good chunk of TMBG's work, is like a funhouse: the listener is invited to enter this strange, surreal world of bizarre sounds and cryptic concepts, but somehow one is reassured that everything is going to be alright and the exit will be found. I would cite the band's unfailing ability to craft incredibly strong melodies as one of the main reasons for this. (In a BBC interview years later, Flansburgh would claim that "melody is our secret weapon.")
I kind of put TMBG to the side until the following year, when some girls in my class did a dance routine to the band's cover of "Istanbul (Not Constantinople)" for the school talent show. When a friend told me the band was They Might Be Giants, I recognized them as "those Lincoln guys." At the time, I had no idea they had continued to release material. (Back in the pre-internet days, it was much more difficult to keep up with current releases, especially when (a) you were attempting to follow an "alternative" band and (b) you were an only child.) Eventually, I would get ahold of that album, Flood, as well as Apollo 18, which both kicked my fanaticism until full gear. I even joined the fan club, a phenomenon that now seems to be nothing more than a sad relic of a bygone era in today's world of MySpace, Facebook and "e-mailing lists." Back then, it was a special thing to get a postcard or newsletter in the mail every few months (sometimes even hand addressed!) announcing tour dates or forthcoming material.
30 discs, 14 concerts, hundreds of mp3s and scads of autographs, set lists, t-shirts and assorted memorabilia later, TMBG is still one of my favorite bands, and while I don't listen to them nearly as much as I did in, say, 1995, they've become, to paraphrase a friend of mine, "like old friends." Even though many would argue that some of their initial charm was lost after their initial duo phase was over, I know they will put out a good to great album every 2-3 years. I always have to see them whenever they're in town, as I know they can always be trusted to put on a great show. Their never-ending output of material would make even Prince blush, and while new tracks often slip past me all the time, I know I can enjoy them when I finally get ahold of them.
But it all started with Lincoln, that bizarre little album that made no sense to me at age 12 yet made all the sense in the world. It is still one of my top five albums of all time.
I've often said that They Might Be Giants is a band you either instinctively get or you don't. Their aesthetic either clicks and resonates with the listener (and often comforts them in some strange, inexplicable way) or comes off as annoying, quirky "novelty music." But to dismiss the band as mere "novelty" or "comedy" is to do them a great disservice. Mssrs. Linnell and Flansburgh are supreme pop craftsmen and Post-Modernists of the highest order.
As such, TMBG fans and fanatics often come off as relentlessly cultish and obsessive (traits which yours truly certainly shares from time to time). One of TMBG's b-sides contained a snippet of a conversation between two people on a conference call who had unknowingly left a message on TMBG's famous Dial-A-Song service. The woman had called the number after seeing it in a cryptic advertisement in the Village Voice. She may have unwittingly summed up the entire oeuvre and strange pull of the band when she said to her call partner "well, I can't explain it...'cause I don't know what it is!"
Lincoln was my first indoctrination into this strange little cult that I've been a member of for almost 20 years now. For this Mixtape Monday, I've plundered my vaults and assembled an alternate version of the album, culling tracks from demo tapes, rare EPs, bootlegs, concerts, web-circulated mp3s and even TMBG's own short-lived e-Music rarities service TMBG Unlimited. (Unfortunately, I could not find any alternate versions of four tracks, so I've retained the album versions in those instances.) Some of the versions even feature slight lyrical variations.
For those who know and love this album as I do, this Mixtape will hopefully prove to be a treat. And for those who've never heard it, maybe this will inspire you to give the band another look.
Join the cult. It's free! (When you call from Brooklyn.)
On the Mixtape:
1) "Ana Ng" (Live at the Sony Music Studios, NYC, 10-19-94)
2) "Cowtown" (Demo)
3) "Lie Still, Little Bottle" (Live on Record Guide, 1988)
4) "Purple Toupee" (Live at the Sony Music Studios, NYC, 10-19-94)
5) "Cage and Aquarium" (Live at the Bowery Ballroom, 10-21-99)
6) "Where Your Eyes Don't Go" (Live on the Frank O'Toole Show)
7) "Piece of Dirt" (Live in Chicago, 1992)
8) "Mr. Me" (TMBG's Other Thing, featuring the Velcro Horns)
9) "Pencil Rain" (Live at the Bowery Ballroom, 10-21-99)
10) "The World's Address" (Joshua Fried Remix)
11) "I've Got a Match" (Live in Atlanta, 6-26-87)
12) "Santa's Beard" (Album Version)
13) "You'll Miss Me" (Live at Irving Plaza, 2-12-97)
14) "They'll Need a Crane" (Album Version)
15) "Shoehorn with Teeth" (Live at the Bowery Ballroom, 10-21-99)
16) "Stand On Your Own Head" (Album Version)
17) "Snowball in Hell" (Album Version)
18) "Kiss Me, Son of God" (Alternate Version)
Quick Notes on Select Songs:
*Tracks 1 & 4 are both from the very rare college promo "Live!! New York City," a full concert that was put out in a cardboard sleeve in 1994. This was sent to me by a kind soul in Hawaii years and years ago when I was a regular poster at the tmbg.org forums. This version of "Ana Ng" was substantially remixed and even overdubbed when it was finally issued commercially on the live compilation Severe Tire Damage in 1998.
*This demo of "Cowtown" comes from the band's original demo tape from 1985. Many of the songs from this tape were later remixed and/or overdubbed for proper release on their 1986 debut album They Might Be Giants.
*Tracks 6-8 were issued as part of the TMBG Unlimited mp3 service in 2001.
*Tracks 10 & 18 are single b-sides and were issued on the 1991 compilation Miscellaneous T.
*All other tracks (bar "album versions") are rare and previously unreleased.
LINKS:
Lincoln (Alternate Version) Mixtape
Lincoln by They Might Be Giants
Miscellaneous T by They Might Be Giants
Then: The Earlier Years by They Might Be Giants
Severe Tire Damage by They Might Be Giants
For my maiden voyage here at Tragically Hipster, "Greg" has given me the opportunity to host this week's Mixtape Monday. I thought I'd begin by honoring an album that had a marked impact on me as a musician, artist and person in general and that recently turned 20: They Might Be Giants' masterpiece, Lincoln.
It must have been shortly after the release of this album when They Might Be Giants first came to my attention. I was 11 at the time and have clear memories of watching a Dr. Demento video special on cable when the bizarre video for "Ana Ng" popped up on the screen. I know I had never seen anything like it before. What I was witnessing was post-modern MTV (before it was called that), a sort of Dadaist concept for music video. (TMBG would further explore this concept two years later with their video for "Birdhouse in Your Soul," in which dozens of people in identical plaid shirts and masks marched in a circle, wearing signs that said "STOP ROCK VIDEO.") But more than anything, it was the song that grabbed me...especially that unforgettable chorus, with its jangly instrumentation and frenetic recitation of long sentences, like some nonsensical version of "Schoolhouse Rock":
Ana Ng and I are getting old
And we still haven't walked in the glow of each others' majestic presence
Listen Ana, hear my words
They're the ones you would think I would say
If there was a me for you
I don't remember getting ahold of the tape of Lincoln until the next summer, which I was spending at my grandparents' house in Palm Desert (as I often did). On that same day, I also picked up "Weird Al" Yankovic's In 3-D album, which would jump start another, albeit minor, obsession. (Unlike TMBG, that obsession ran out of gas around 1991.)
Those two albums became my soundtrack for the summer of 1989. I would sit and play both albums over and over on my grandma's old portable cassette player: a little box with a handle, a crude speaker and big white keys on it.
I had absolutely no comparison points to draw from for Lincoln, which often makes me wonder if it was the first true "alternative" album I ever owned. (I had picked up 10,000 Maniacs' In My Tribe two years earlier, but that's not even on the same planet as Lincoln.) It didn't sound like anything I'd ever heard before (or since, really). These were skewered pop songs in a myriad of different styles using synthesizers, guitars, drum machines (it would be another four years before TMBG would begin recruiting live musicians for their recordings and stage shows), brass, zithers, banjos, glockenspiels and even a string quartet.
I would often tell people the band reminded me of "Weird Al," but in a few years' time it became clear to me that I was making this comparison based largely on perfunctory aesthetic qualities. For instance, like Al, TMBG's John Linnell often sings with a nasal whine. (Oddly enough, Al's overly earnest balladeer voice also smacks of John Flansburgh.) And of course there's TMBG's predominant use of accordion, certainly a rarity in the pop world of the late 1980s.
And then there are those lyrics, many of which often come off as "silly" (and surely, some of them are) but some of which prove to be deeper and occasionally even profound upon closer inspection. I remember poring over the lyric sheet of Lincoln continuously as I listened. Songs like "Cowtown" were obvious fun, but what of "Purple Toupee"?
I remember the year I went to camp
Heard about some lady named Selma and some blacks
Somebody put their fingers in the president's ears
And it wasn't too much later they came out with Johnson's wax
I remember the book depository
Where they crowned the king of Cuba
That's all I can think of, but I'm sure there's something else
Way down inside me I can feel it coming back
Nowadays, it seems obvious that the song is a brilliant play on words about American history...about someone who misremembers significant events (or, at the very least, a speaker who is trying to mask them...an unreliable narrator of sorts).
At the time, though, the "Johnson's wax" line made me laugh and that was all I cared about.
The full potency of some of these songs (especially the sad ones) didn't hit me until years later. For instance, Linnell's perfectly crafted "They'll Need a Crane" encapsulates the disintegration of a relationship in a way that few songs do, particularly in the frenetic bridge section, in which Linnell almost free associates:
Don't call me at work again, oh no
The boss still hates me, I'm just tired
And I don't love you anymore
And there's a restaurant we should check out where the other nightmare people like to go
I mean nice people
Baby wait, I didn't mean to say nightmare...
The band saves its most daring statement for the last track...the devastating indictment of power, greed, narcissism and mind control, "Kiss Me, Son of God," a song whose lyrics are so powerful and clever that they beg to be printed in full:
I built a little empire out of some crazy garbage
Called "the blood of the exploited working class"
But they've overcome their shyness
Now they're calling me Your Highness
And a world screams "kiss me, son of God!"
I destroyed a bond of friendship and respect
Between the only people left who'd even look me in the eye
Now I laugh and make a fortune
Off the same ones that I tortured
And a world screams "kiss me, son of God!"
I look like Jesus
So they say
But Mr. Jesus is very far away
Now you're the only one here who can tell me if it's true
That you love me and I love me
And to think that my 12 year old mind wondered if this song meant they were a Christian band...
Lincoln presents an interesting dichotomy in that it contains many of the band's most profound songs (some of which are incredibly somber, not something the band is typically known for) seated next to just as many that are unabashedly silly. Linnell's dour analysis of a relationship, "I've Got a Match," is followed by Flansburgh's ridiculous "Santa's Beard," in which the narrator alleges that his girlfriend is cheating on him with a Santa Claus impersonator. Flansburgh's mournful "Piece of Dirt" sits alongside the ridiculously glorious, faux military march of "Pencil Rain." ("They're searching the yonder blue/they look out for number two.") For every "They'll Need a Crane" you have a "Cowtown." You get the picture.
And yet, somehow, this collection of songs works well together as a cohesive whole. Lincoln, like a good chunk of TMBG's work, is like a funhouse: the listener is invited to enter this strange, surreal world of bizarre sounds and cryptic concepts, but somehow one is reassured that everything is going to be alright and the exit will be found. I would cite the band's unfailing ability to craft incredibly strong melodies as one of the main reasons for this. (In a BBC interview years later, Flansburgh would claim that "melody is our secret weapon.")
I kind of put TMBG to the side until the following year, when some girls in my class did a dance routine to the band's cover of "Istanbul (Not Constantinople)" for the school talent show. When a friend told me the band was They Might Be Giants, I recognized them as "those Lincoln guys." At the time, I had no idea they had continued to release material. (Back in the pre-internet days, it was much more difficult to keep up with current releases, especially when (a) you were attempting to follow an "alternative" band and (b) you were an only child.) Eventually, I would get ahold of that album, Flood, as well as Apollo 18, which both kicked my fanaticism until full gear. I even joined the fan club, a phenomenon that now seems to be nothing more than a sad relic of a bygone era in today's world of MySpace, Facebook and "e-mailing lists." Back then, it was a special thing to get a postcard or newsletter in the mail every few months (sometimes even hand addressed!) announcing tour dates or forthcoming material.
30 discs, 14 concerts, hundreds of mp3s and scads of autographs, set lists, t-shirts and assorted memorabilia later, TMBG is still one of my favorite bands, and while I don't listen to them nearly as much as I did in, say, 1995, they've become, to paraphrase a friend of mine, "like old friends." Even though many would argue that some of their initial charm was lost after their initial duo phase was over, I know they will put out a good to great album every 2-3 years. I always have to see them whenever they're in town, as I know they can always be trusted to put on a great show. Their never-ending output of material would make even Prince blush, and while new tracks often slip past me all the time, I know I can enjoy them when I finally get ahold of them.
But it all started with Lincoln, that bizarre little album that made no sense to me at age 12 yet made all the sense in the world. It is still one of my top five albums of all time.
I've often said that They Might Be Giants is a band you either instinctively get or you don't. Their aesthetic either clicks and resonates with the listener (and often comforts them in some strange, inexplicable way) or comes off as annoying, quirky "novelty music." But to dismiss the band as mere "novelty" or "comedy" is to do them a great disservice. Mssrs. Linnell and Flansburgh are supreme pop craftsmen and Post-Modernists of the highest order.
As such, TMBG fans and fanatics often come off as relentlessly cultish and obsessive (traits which yours truly certainly shares from time to time). One of TMBG's b-sides contained a snippet of a conversation between two people on a conference call who had unknowingly left a message on TMBG's famous Dial-A-Song service. The woman had called the number after seeing it in a cryptic advertisement in the Village Voice. She may have unwittingly summed up the entire oeuvre and strange pull of the band when she said to her call partner "well, I can't explain it...'cause I don't know what it is!"
Lincoln was my first indoctrination into this strange little cult that I've been a member of for almost 20 years now. For this Mixtape Monday, I've plundered my vaults and assembled an alternate version of the album, culling tracks from demo tapes, rare EPs, bootlegs, concerts, web-circulated mp3s and even TMBG's own short-lived e-Music rarities service TMBG Unlimited. (Unfortunately, I could not find any alternate versions of four tracks, so I've retained the album versions in those instances.) Some of the versions even feature slight lyrical variations.
For those who know and love this album as I do, this Mixtape will hopefully prove to be a treat. And for those who've never heard it, maybe this will inspire you to give the band another look.
Join the cult. It's free! (When you call from Brooklyn.)
On the Mixtape:
1) "Ana Ng" (Live at the Sony Music Studios, NYC, 10-19-94)
2) "Cowtown" (Demo)
3) "Lie Still, Little Bottle" (Live on Record Guide, 1988)
4) "Purple Toupee" (Live at the Sony Music Studios, NYC, 10-19-94)
5) "Cage and Aquarium" (Live at the Bowery Ballroom, 10-21-99)
6) "Where Your Eyes Don't Go" (Live on the Frank O'Toole Show)
7) "Piece of Dirt" (Live in Chicago, 1992)
8) "Mr. Me" (TMBG's Other Thing, featuring the Velcro Horns)
9) "Pencil Rain" (Live at the Bowery Ballroom, 10-21-99)
10) "The World's Address" (Joshua Fried Remix)
11) "I've Got a Match" (Live in Atlanta, 6-26-87)
12) "Santa's Beard" (Album Version)
13) "You'll Miss Me" (Live at Irving Plaza, 2-12-97)
14) "They'll Need a Crane" (Album Version)
15) "Shoehorn with Teeth" (Live at the Bowery Ballroom, 10-21-99)
16) "Stand On Your Own Head" (Album Version)
17) "Snowball in Hell" (Album Version)
18) "Kiss Me, Son of God" (Alternate Version)
Quick Notes on Select Songs:
*Tracks 1 & 4 are both from the very rare college promo "Live!! New York City," a full concert that was put out in a cardboard sleeve in 1994. This was sent to me by a kind soul in Hawaii years and years ago when I was a regular poster at the tmbg.org forums. This version of "Ana Ng" was substantially remixed and even overdubbed when it was finally issued commercially on the live compilation Severe Tire Damage in 1998.
*This demo of "Cowtown" comes from the band's original demo tape from 1985. Many of the songs from this tape were later remixed and/or overdubbed for proper release on their 1986 debut album They Might Be Giants.
*Tracks 6-8 were issued as part of the TMBG Unlimited mp3 service in 2001.
*Tracks 10 & 18 are single b-sides and were issued on the 1991 compilation Miscellaneous T.
*All other tracks (bar "album versions") are rare and previously unreleased.
LINKS:
Lincoln (Alternate Version) Mixtape
Lincoln by They Might Be Giants
Miscellaneous T by They Might Be Giants
Then: The Earlier Years by They Might Be Giants
Severe Tire Damage by They Might Be Giants
Friday, October 17, 2008
THIS WEEKEND: All-Night Horror Show at the New Beverly
Because nothing says "Halloween's Coming" quite like severe eye trauma gags, the New Beverly Cinema is having a twelve-hour all-night horror-thon this weekend, screening a half-dozen disturbing, disgusting, but otherwise distinguished films over Saturday night/early Sunday morning. Tickets are but a scant $20, all films play in "glorious" 35mm (as opposed to the lackluster kind), and all proceeds go to benefit retrofits at the New Beverly (which could frankly use a couple of them oh-so-lovely leather couches that grace the Silent Movie Theater just down the way).
Set to play: Creepers (featuring a teenaged Jennifer Connelly who can talk to bugs); The House on Sorority Row (about the recondite perils of college hazing ritual-interuptus via slashing); In the Wall (a short film so hip and now that we've never even heard of it before!); Zombie (Lucio Fulci's loving undead tribute to amateur enucleation); a "top-secret surprise movie" (which will hopefully literally be Top Secret); The Power (in which Aztec dolls do the kind of damage that only Aztec dolls can); Teenage Mother (chronicling the life of a... wait for it... teenage mother); and wrapping things up with a double-plus-good early-morning screening of Raw Force (which eatmybrains.com describes as "a bikini kung-fu zombie action car crash of a movie," and then goes on to mumble something about a place called "Warrior Island" and how a lot of the footage has actually been pirated from Roger Corman. And are you really going to question the taste of a site called EatMyBrains.com?).
WHERE: The New Beverly Cinema
WHEN: This Saturday, October 18, 2008, at 7:30pm
COST: $20 + $1 service fee (if tickets are ordered online)
MORE INFO: New Beverly Midnights (MySpace page)
Haunted Hollywood Scavenger Hunt
Did you know that Los Angeles is in the top ten most haunted cities in the US? Murders Suicides, Burned Alive- These tortured souls still haunt Hollywood Blvd. Come discover which ghosts still prowl the area as you participate in a Haunted Hollywood Scavenger Hunt. Form your team up to 6 people and reserve your spot today! Prizes to the winning teams.
*5:30-8:00pm October 25th, 26th, and 31st
*No prior ghost hunting knowledge is needed,
Flashlight helpful
*$25 per person
*RSVP at info@outoftheboxevents.net or call 3237991374
*meeting place will be sent to you upon registering
*5:30-8:00pm October 25th, 26th, and 31st
*No prior ghost hunting knowledge is needed,
Flashlight helpful
*$25 per person
*RSVP at info@outoftheboxevents.net or call 3237991374
*meeting place will be sent to you upon registering
Monday, October 13, 2008
MIXTAPE MONDAYS: Melodies of the Jumping Fleas
(Every Monday at Tragically Hipster we'll feature a look at a band, performance, or vague musical concept, with an accompanying virtual mixtape for your listening pleasure. There's no need to thank us; it's just one more service we like to provide for you, our dedicated readers. Most of whom also write for this site.)
Depending upon whom you ask, the word "ukulele" means either "the gift that came from here" or "jumping/dancing fleas" (after how a performer's fingers appear when playing the instrument). Or, alternatively, it means neither of those two things.
While the etymology of the ukulele may be under some debate, Tragically Hipster's love of its sound is not. On this week's mix you'll find tunes drenched in uke-playing, only lightly glazed with uke-playing (deal with it), and lyrically obsessed with uke-playing; there are tales of true love lost and gained and painful and even an implication that it might be on occasion joyous; existential meditations from Sweden and Huckabees; pop songs from former Beatles and current Fires; and in general a wealth of uke-centric (and uke-tangential) tracks. Do we make mixes like this because we love you, or out of a nepotisitic desire to inspire our fellow Tragical Hipsters to learn how to play an instrument of such magnificence? Like the origin of the name "ukulele," we may never know for sure.
On the Mixtape:
1) "With My Little Ukulele in My Hand" by George Formby
2) "Taint No Sin to Take Off Your Skin" by Janet Klein & Her Parlor Boys
3) "Ukulele Me!" by Stephin Merritt
4) "When You Were Mine" by Dent May & His Magnificent Ukulele
5) "Little Bit" by Lykke Li
6) "The Opposite of Hallelujah" by Jens Lekman
7) "The Boys Are Back in Town (KCRW Session)" by Jon Brion
8) "You You You You You" by The 6ths
9) "Ram On" by Paul McCartney
10) "Your Arms Around Me" by Jens Lekman
11) "Nothing Matters When We're Dancing" by The Magnetic Fields
12) "True Love is Not Nice" by Yayahoni
13) "Moana Chimes" by Jon Brion featuring Adam Sandler and Emily Watson
14) "Poison and Snakes" by Liz Janes
15) "Such a Color" by Shugo Tokumaru
16) "Keep the Car Running" by Arcade Fire
17) "You Keep Me Always Living in Sin" by Janet Klein & Her Parlor Boys
18) "Elephant Gun" by Beirut
19) "Knock Yourself Out" by Jon Brion
Quick Notes on Select Songs:
*George Formby, a legend with the Ukulele-Banjo, was no stranger to controversy. His song "With My Little Ukulele in My Hand" was banned for "lewdness of lyric" back in the 20's, because... well, let's just say that if you listen carefully, you'll find that the "ukulele" Formby keeps in his hand during this song is a largely euphemistic one.
*Stephin Merritt pops up three times on this playlist, under three different guises and with three different lead singers tackling his songs. Aside from "Ukulele Me!", there's "You You You You You", released under the name The 6ths, and "Nothing Matters When We're Dancing", possibly my favorite song on the mix, released with his primary band The Magnetic Fields. Merritt's unapologetic love for the bizarre and Byzantine naturally led him to a generous use of the ukulele in his various compositions.
*There's something of a glut of cover versions in the rarefied world of ukulelelism; it's an easy lure to take a song that is self-important or distinctively tied to a specific genre (dance, punk, etc.) and then twist it on its head by playing the whole thing on the toy-like ukulele (see Jon Brion's admittedly novel cover of "The Boys Are Back in Town" for a quick example). The problem is that the novelty wears off incredibly quickly. Covers that are still interesting songs in and of themselves, that use the ukulele's unique sound to enhance rather than detract from the song they're covering, are few and far between. But they do exist, as Dent May's cover of Prince's "When You Were Mine" and Yayahoni's take on Jonathan Richman's "True Love is Not Nice" attest.
*Janet Klein & Her Parlor Boys have a regular slot at the Steve Allen Theater on the first Thursday of every month. Klein obliges with the ukulele and vocals, while Her Boys provide the 1920's early jazz-pop backing flavor. "Taint No Sin to Take Off Your Skin" and "You Keep Me Always Living in Sin" are two excellent reasons not to pass up next month's show.
LINKS:
Melodies of the Jumping Fleas Mixtape
Listen to the Banned
by Various Artists (including George Formby)
Paradise Wobble
by Janet Klein & Her Parlor Boys
Showtunes
by Stephin Merritt
Dent May & His Magnificent Ukulele (MySpace Page)
Little Bit (CD Single)
by Lykke Li
Night Falls Over Kortedala
by Jens Lekman
Pieces of April
by The 6ths
Ram
by Paul McCartney
69 Love Songs
by The Magnetic Fields
Punch Drunk Love (Score)
by Jon Brion
Poison & Snakes
by Liz Janes
Night Piece
by Shugo Tokumaru
Neon Bible
by Arcade Fire
Living in Sin
by Janet Klein & Her Parlor Boys
Lon Gisland
by Beirut
I Heart Huckabees (Score)
by Jon Brion
Depending upon whom you ask, the word "ukulele" means either "the gift that came from here" or "jumping/dancing fleas" (after how a performer's fingers appear when playing the instrument). Or, alternatively, it means neither of those two things.
While the etymology of the ukulele may be under some debate, Tragically Hipster's love of its sound is not. On this week's mix you'll find tunes drenched in uke-playing, only lightly glazed with uke-playing (deal with it), and lyrically obsessed with uke-playing; there are tales of true love lost and gained and painful and even an implication that it might be on occasion joyous; existential meditations from Sweden and Huckabees; pop songs from former Beatles and current Fires; and in general a wealth of uke-centric (and uke-tangential) tracks. Do we make mixes like this because we love you, or out of a nepotisitic desire to inspire our fellow Tragical Hipsters to learn how to play an instrument of such magnificence? Like the origin of the name "ukulele," we may never know for sure.
On the Mixtape:
1) "With My Little Ukulele in My Hand" by George Formby
2) "Taint No Sin to Take Off Your Skin" by Janet Klein & Her Parlor Boys
3) "Ukulele Me!" by Stephin Merritt
4) "When You Were Mine" by Dent May & His Magnificent Ukulele
5) "Little Bit" by Lykke Li
6) "The Opposite of Hallelujah" by Jens Lekman
7) "The Boys Are Back in Town (KCRW Session)" by Jon Brion
8) "You You You You You" by The 6ths
9) "Ram On" by Paul McCartney
10) "Your Arms Around Me" by Jens Lekman
11) "Nothing Matters When We're Dancing" by The Magnetic Fields
12) "True Love is Not Nice" by Yayahoni
13) "Moana Chimes" by Jon Brion featuring Adam Sandler and Emily Watson
14) "Poison and Snakes" by Liz Janes
15) "Such a Color" by Shugo Tokumaru
16) "Keep the Car Running" by Arcade Fire
17) "You Keep Me Always Living in Sin" by Janet Klein & Her Parlor Boys
18) "Elephant Gun" by Beirut
19) "Knock Yourself Out" by Jon Brion
Quick Notes on Select Songs:
*George Formby, a legend with the Ukulele-Banjo, was no stranger to controversy. His song "With My Little Ukulele in My Hand" was banned for "lewdness of lyric" back in the 20's, because... well, let's just say that if you listen carefully, you'll find that the "ukulele" Formby keeps in his hand during this song is a largely euphemistic one.
*Stephin Merritt pops up three times on this playlist, under three different guises and with three different lead singers tackling his songs. Aside from "Ukulele Me!", there's "You You You You You", released under the name The 6ths, and "Nothing Matters When We're Dancing", possibly my favorite song on the mix, released with his primary band The Magnetic Fields. Merritt's unapologetic love for the bizarre and Byzantine naturally led him to a generous use of the ukulele in his various compositions.
*There's something of a glut of cover versions in the rarefied world of ukulelelism; it's an easy lure to take a song that is self-important or distinctively tied to a specific genre (dance, punk, etc.) and then twist it on its head by playing the whole thing on the toy-like ukulele (see Jon Brion's admittedly novel cover of "The Boys Are Back in Town" for a quick example). The problem is that the novelty wears off incredibly quickly. Covers that are still interesting songs in and of themselves, that use the ukulele's unique sound to enhance rather than detract from the song they're covering, are few and far between. But they do exist, as Dent May's cover of Prince's "When You Were Mine" and Yayahoni's take on Jonathan Richman's "True Love is Not Nice" attest.
*Janet Klein & Her Parlor Boys have a regular slot at the Steve Allen Theater on the first Thursday of every month. Klein obliges with the ukulele and vocals, while Her Boys provide the 1920's early jazz-pop backing flavor. "Taint No Sin to Take Off Your Skin" and "You Keep Me Always Living in Sin" are two excellent reasons not to pass up next month's show.
LINKS:
Melodies of the Jumping Fleas Mixtape
Listen to the Banned
by Various Artists (including George Formby)
Paradise Wobble
by Janet Klein & Her Parlor Boys
Showtunes
by Stephin Merritt
Dent May & His Magnificent Ukulele (MySpace Page)
Little Bit (CD Single)
by Lykke Li
Night Falls Over Kortedala
by Jens Lekman
Pieces of April
by The 6ths
Ram
by Paul McCartney
69 Love Songs
by The Magnetic Fields
Punch Drunk Love (Score)
by Jon Brion
Poison & Snakes
by Liz Janes
Night Piece
by Shugo Tokumaru
Neon Bible
by Arcade Fire
Living in Sin
by Janet Klein & Her Parlor Boys
Lon Gisland
by Beirut
I Heart Huckabees (Score)
by Jon Brion
Friday, October 10, 2008
Laugh Riot - Zombie Comedy
Hey guys!
In honor of October being the month of ghouls and goblins (yay!),
this week's Laugh Riot is all about Zombies!
I've gathered several funny bits for you to enjoy and they all involve zombies!
First, a hilarious short piece entitled
"Diary of the Living Dead or: Are You There God? It's Me. Also, a Bunch of Zombies."
Written by Jake Swearingen
Next is a solid little short from the LA kid over at SNL.
For you at work who can't have sound, here's a website with something for the 80's kid in you, the Hollywood gawker and the zombie lover.
Celebrity Zombies
To wrap it up I present a video short to drive home the theme of today's post:
"Zombie Comedian"
In honor of October being the month of ghouls and goblins (yay!),
this week's Laugh Riot is all about Zombies!
I've gathered several funny bits for you to enjoy and they all involve zombies!
First, a hilarious short piece entitled
"Diary of the Living Dead or: Are You There God? It's Me. Also, a Bunch of Zombies."
Written by Jake Swearingen
Next is a solid little short from the LA kid over at SNL.
See more funny videos at Funny or Die
For you at work who can't have sound, here's a website with something for the 80's kid in you, the Hollywood gawker and the zombie lover.
Celebrity Zombies
To wrap it up I present a video short to drive home the theme of today's post:
"Zombie Comedian"
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
"Our Heads Full of Language Like Buckets of Minnows Standing in the Moonlight on a Dock."
What the Doctor Said
Raymond Carver
He said it doesn't look good
he said it looks bad in fact real bad
he said I counted thirty-two of them on one lung before
I quit counting them
I said I'm glad I wouldn't want to know
about any more being there than that
he said are you a religious man do you kneel down
in forest groves and let yourself ask for help
when you come to a waterfall
mist blowing against your face and arms
do you stop and ask for understanding at those moments
I said not yet but I intend to start today
he said I'm real sorry he said
I wish I had some other kind of news to give you
I said Amen and he said something else
I didn't catch and not knowing what else to do
and not wanting him to have to repeat it
and me to have to fully digest it
I just looked at him
for a minute and he looked back it was then
I jumped up and shook hands with this man who'd just given me
something no one else on earth had ever given me
I may have even thanked him habit being so strong
Ray
Hayden Carruth
How many guys are sitting at their kitchen tables
right now, one-thirty in the morning, this same
time, eating a piece of pie? - that's what I
wondered. A big piece of pie, because I'd just
finished reading Ray's last book. Not good pie,
not like my mother or my wife could've
made, but an ordinary pie I'd just bought, being
alone, at the Tops Market two hours ago. And how
many had water in their eyes? Because of Ray's
book and especially those last poems written
after he knew: the one about the doctor telling
him, the one where he and Tess go down to
Reno to get married before it happens and shoot
some craps on the dark baize tables, the one
called "After-Glow" about the little light in the
sky after the sun sets. I can just hear him,
if he were still here and this were somebody
else's book, saying, "Jesus," saying, "This
is the saddest son of a bitch of a book I've
read in a long time," saying, "A real long time."
And the thing is, he knew we'd be saying this
about his book, he could just hear us saying it,
and in some part of him he was glad! He
really was. What crazies we writers are
our heads full of language like buckets of minnows
standing in the moonlight on a dock. Ray
was a good writer, a wonderful writer, and his
poems are good, most of them and they made me
cry, there at my kitchen table with my head down,
me, a sixty-seven-year-old galoot, an old fool
because all old men are fools, they have to be,
shoveling big jagged chunks of that ordinary pie
into my mouth, and the water falling from my eyes
onto the pie, the plate, my hand, little speckles
shining in the light, brightening the colors, and I
ate that goddamn pie, and it tasted good to me.
LINKS:
Parting Words: Remembering Hayden Carruth (NPR)
Hayden Carruth's Obituary (The Guardian)
All of Us: Collected Poems
by Raymond CarverScrambled Eggs & Whiskey
by Hayden Carruth
Monday, October 6, 2008
scenes from a hipster wedding...
Jeremy Troutt and Melanie Gable, October 4th, 2008, Laguna Beach, California..
Thank you so much for allowing us to be a part of such a lovely and unique celebration of love. Congratulations and wishing you many years of love and happiness!!
MIXTAPE MONDAYS: U2 Redux (Boy / October / War Deluxe Edition Remasters)
(Every Monday at Tragically Hipster we'll feature a look at a band, performance, or vague musical concept, with an accompanying virtual mixtape for your listening pleasure. Mixtapes will be kept online only until the next week's column is up, so listen while you can. There's no need to thank us; it's just one more service we like to provide for you, our dedicated readers. Most of whom also write for this site.)
I originally wrote this column two months ago, but an unfortunate quirk of timing saw the Muxtape servers go offline less than half an hour after its initial posting. For this second go round, we've switched to the more reliable and, y'know, actually legal 8tracks service. Since it's a longer-than-normal column this week, you may just want to skip on down to the actual Mixtape portion toward the bottom. Go ahead. We won't judge you.
The first single I ever bought was a double A-side of U2's "New Year's Day" and "Two Hearts Beat as One"1. I didn't know much about the band -- this was in their pre-Joshua Tree mega-stardom days -- I just knew that "New Year's Day" had a lot of bass in it, and I've always had a strange kind of love for that frequently under-appreciated instrument.
I took the single home and played it so often that I all but wore out the grooves. At the time I knew nothing about the Polish solidarity movement that inspired the song (and truth be told, I still don't know much about it), but I knew that there was something haunting about its darkly aggressive opening notes. I doubt I was more than seven or eight at the time -- certainly not old enough to have a real handle on my feelings -- and yet something in me responded instinctually to Bono's yearning croon
That we can break through
Though torn in two
We can be one
And for the next fifteen years or so, U2 was my band.
In a very real sense, U2 taught me how to love music. After I played the "New Year's Day" single down into near-incomprehensibility, I moved on to the album that it issued from, War, and was delighted to discover that the version of "New Year's Day" contained therein was a full minute-and-a-half longer than the one found on the seven inch. The idea of a "single edit," that a song could be cut and cropped for distribution to different mediums, seemed enticingly exotic to me, like I had discovered some secret about how musicians worked that no one else was privy to. I listened to each one of their tracks with an intensive concentration, studying every note lest they should betray some larger, heretofore unhinted-at secret.
There were no further technical revelations to follow, but my attention to detail paid off in other ways. After a while it occurred to me to think about why they would use certain instruments in one song but not in another, to question why a turn of phrase in the lyrics of War's first song would be repeated in its last. And slowly over the years that followed, I began to put together an understanding of music that went beyond gosh I like how this song sounds and delved into issues of intent and meaning, of purpose and art. It was an autodidact's music appreciation course, centered on the albums of four lads from
I became a rabid fan, consuming everything the band released. Not just albums and singles, but guest appearances, charity compilation albums, movies soundtracks with slightly alternate mixes; my selection of U2 bootlegs is larger than my collection of most other bands' albums. In the days before artists' discographies were exhaustively cataloged on internet websites, I became my own sort of mini-expert on the band2.
The set that night had consisted of a hodge-podge of "classic" U2 tracks, mixed with a healthy smattering of tunes from Leave Behind, the first U2 album that I would have defined as "sub-par," but which had proven itself to be inexplicably popular. Just before the evening's mid-point, they launched into "New Year's Day" to a tumult of applause, when a unbidden revelation struck me: U2 wasn't a band any more. They were a nostalgia act.
With a strange, stark clarity, it became suddenly apparent to me that they weren't dusting off old tracks from their previous albums and giving them a healthy workout as they had in tours past; this time they were simply working their way dutifully through the back-catalog, much like a Vegas revival act or, more charitably, a second-generation Rolling Stones. Like the album which the tour was accompanying, this was U2 on autopilot; a giant, pulsing two-hour version of a high school reunion "remember when?" conversation, where you sit around rehashing the details of a shared past not because it was such a glorious time in all your lives, but because otherwise none of you would have a thing to say to one another. There was something achingly depressing about this realization, as though I were one of those stifled housewives in Victorian novels who wake up one day and finally see themselves to be leading a loveless, oppressed existence.
I couldn't listen to U2 for a long time after that. I just didn't see the point.
Every time I put on one of their albums it felt like I was vainly trying to recapture the magic of those early years of infatuation. Maybe U2 was just a phase, and I had finally grown out of them, like being love-sick over an oblivious girl in high school. You grow up; learn not to waste your time on those who don't return your affections; and hopefully move on to fuller, more mature relationships that are still alight with passion, though perhaps not that unique brand of passion that so controlled your world during your teenage years.
When U2 announced last year that they were re-releasing their first three albums in deluxe remastered editions, I wasn't particularly interested. I hadn't listened to a U2 album in six years, and while both Boy and October were interesting records, they were never amongst the best of the band's output to begin with.
But War had been an immensely formative album for me, and my CD copy was scratched and skipping from years of abuse. Almost on a whim I put in a pre-order on Amazon.com. When the album came a few weeks ago, I put it on out of fiscal obligation more than anything else, expecting to hit the stop button before I reached the end of the first track.
I listened to War twice that night, all the way through.
The next day, I listened to it again. And then the day after, once more.
What a fucking great album.
Like every band worth the trouble, U2 evolved over the years through a number of distinct phases. Their first three albums form what I like to think of as their "Christian Warrior" trilogy. These albums feature a kind of passionate aggression not seen on U2's later albums, fueled in large part by Bono and The Edge's intense faith, not simply in religion as a personal experience, but in religion as a transformative political force.
Here "peace" is not an idea or a restive state of being, but a breathing, beating thing that must be fought for, a teething philosophy that is sometimes a struggle to accept, with the easy allure of violence readily at hand. Though it's tempting to dismiss U2's politics as pretentious or eye-rollingly simplistic, I'm struck, listening to these albums decades later, by just how cynical the band really was. Indeed, most of their early songs spit and howl at the injustice of the world around them, and what optimism there is to be found comes not from the naïve belief that activism will make the world a better place, but from the decision to fight on anyway, if only so as to go out kicking:
I believe in the atomic bomb
I believe in the Powers That Be
Lyrically, Bono has always had a gift for album-long metaphors that he plays with and expands upon in each track, without falling into the trap of making a direct "concept" album. On War, he uses a motif of divided lovers as a stand-in for a divided
I doubt I'll ever see U2 in concert again. Their last album, How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, was if anything even less impressive than All That You Can't Leave Behind. When I can bring myself to check out the set lists for their recent shows, they seem filled with the same "hey folks, you might remember this little ditty"-type mentality that finally broke me seven years ago.
But that's alright. Even if my fandom is only an echo of what it used to be, I'm delighted to find that I can still take immense joy from their earlier albums, not as a remember-how-good-it-once-was nostalgia trip, but as works in their own right, still as vital and pulsing today as they were when first released.
And my breathe still catches, just a tiny little bit, every time I hear the opening bass line to "New Year's Day."
1) I Will Follow (%)
2) A Celebration (#)
3) Seconds (&)
4) 11 O'Clock Tick Tock (Single Mix) (%)
5) New Year's Day (7" Single Edit) (&)
6) The Electric Co. (%)
7) Like a Song... (&)
8) Trash, Trampoline and the Party Girl (#)
9) Gloria (#)
10) Two Hearts Beat as One (&)
11) October (#)
12) "40" (&)
% = From the Boy Deluxe Edition reissue
# = From the October Deluxe Edition reissue
& = From the War Deluxe Edition reissue
Quick Notes on Select Songs:
*Martin Hannett was one of the most innovative producers of the post-punk period, putting his indelible stamp on everyone from Joy Division to the Psychedelic Furs. "11 O'Clock Tick Tock" is the only U2 song to be produced by Hannett, and one of only two songs (the other being "A Celebration") that were released as singles but which never made an appearance on any album.
*The original plan for October was to record a series of modern psalms, paeans of faith in a modern world sorely lacking in direction and values. But then the notebook containing the only copy of the as-yet-unrecorded album's lyrics were stolen by a fan during a concert in
*"40" is based on the fortieth Psalm, and hence the title. The Edge and Adam Clayton swapped places for its recording, with Edge playing bass and Clayton the guitar. Back when "40" was a staple of their live act, the two would repeat the swap for the show's finale.
[1] I also purchased a seven-inch of Huey Lewis' "The Heart of Rock and Roll" the same day, but there began and ended my flirtation with The News
[2] Even today, I barely have to reach into my memory to pluck out dozens of tidbits of meaningless trivia, the kind of pointless minutiae that only seems to really matter to you when you're young and in love. With only a cursory look at the tracklistings for the new Deluxe Edition reissues of Boy, October and War, I can tell you that they seem to have left off the instrumental and remixed versions of "October" done for the documentary They Call It an Accident, and that the versions of "Seconds" and "Like a Song..." featured on War are both slightly shorter than the ones on the MFSL "gold" CD pressings done in the mid-90's. I can tell you that in the nearly 30 years since its release as a single, "A Celebration" has never before been issued on compact disc, and that the "remix" version of "Tomorrow" found on October is actually a re-recording done in 1998 for the Common Ground compilation. There are only a handful of bands whose discographies I can claim to have such an intimate familiarity with, and almost without exception they're all bands I started listening to in high school or earlier, back in the halcyon days of my youthful passions.
[3] From "A Celebration," on the October rarities disc.
LINKS:
U2 Redux Mixtape
Boy
Deluxe Edition
October
Deluxe Edition
War
Deluxe Edition
U2 Deluxe Edition Box Set
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Laugh Riot - Kids in The Hall <3
I have tickets on Saturday to see Bruce McCullough’s show at the Steve Allen Theater.
Link to Bruce's show.
I have recently discovered a new guilty pleasure online; fan fiction. Here is one of my favorite pieces. It’s equal parts understated and creepy. My favorite thing about this story is that I get to hear Keanu’s thoughts as well as our heroin’s. Man, the author must REALLY understand Keanu.
Awesome Fan fiction!
Who knew that the rantings of psycho, obsessive fans could be so god damned entertaining? It is my pleasure to present, in honor of Bruce McCullough and my long, long, LONG TIME LOVE for all the alumni of the Kids In the Hall, my own personal fan fiction which is completely based in reality... my reality. What?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kids In the Heart
Molly's heart races as her hand turns off the ignition. The Kids in the Hall Show had been better than she'd expected. After seeing them play previously three separate times on two different tours, she didn't think they could pull out too many more surprises. Their TV show had been off the air for many years and as comedians they had moved on to the solo projects that gave their egos a gentle stroke. Projects that separated them, from each other, and from Molly.
Molly's long supple legs exit the sexy, maroon Camero and drag her up to the door of her own apartment. A neighbor man getting his mail, turns around just in time to see Molly's profile before she enters her front door. "Is this an angel from sexual heaven?" he thought? "My boner says yes." Molly doesn't even notice him. Sigh. The facial expressions that Kevin McDonald used as his punch lines were already fading into the recesses of her mind. Tomorrow she would be paraphrasing setups and in a week all she would be able to say is… "Yeah, the show was pretty awesome."
Fiddle through a pile of Netflix DVD's and try to find one that will deaden her mind. Dull the pain of not being able to just… touch Kevin's hand, if even for a moment in passing to say "It's truly an honor." Sky High? How fitting. Kevin plays a small roll as a teacher. Popping it in she sits on her tasteful couch.
Before the previews even begin, there is a knock at the door. "Who could that be?" No one's expected to come over, and yet Molly's stomach somersaults with a pang of anxiety that bubbles from the guts that reside below her Goucci velour tracksuit. For a second her imagination has gotten the better of her. This wasn't going to be The Kids in the Hall at her door. How ridiculous.
Molly puts her deep seeded evergreen eye up to the peephole and she almost vomits into the soft pallet of her hot, wet mouth. "Oh my God!" That forehead, those eyes… it had come true! Kevin McDonald was knocking on her door. And behind him stood the other four members of the group; Dave, Bruce, Scott, and Mark. A deep breath washes over her tongue and settles into her perfectly sized bossom. (They're not too big, not too small…simply enough) Still as a statue she remains to let the blood come back to her brain. "They're just people, be cool."
"Hello?" Molly's voice was charming and steadfast as the door gave way to reveal their beautiful middle aged faces. Did they notice she was dancing inside her pants? Cause her body was still.
Kevin spoke first. "Sorry to bother you. We're The Kids in the Hall. Our limo just broke down outside your complex and we need a place to stay for the night. I know this sounds insane, but do you think we could crash here? We've got our own toothbrushes." Each man stands holding a pair of bunny slippers and a soft bristled, swivel head. Molly's eyes must have given her away because Kevin smiled. "Don't worry; we'll make the limo driver sleep in the car."
Upon entering the men set out scouring her CD, comic book, and DVD collection. Holding up 4 seasons worth of Kids in the Hall box sets, Mark hollers out "I guess we've got a fan here boys!" "Kids in the Who?" Molly is grinning at her own suave wit. The five men laugh out loud.
Bruce holds up her "Y the Last Man" collection of comic books. "Man, you seem so cool. We should party with you." Scott is pulling up documents on her computer. "Hey, are these your sketches?"
"Yeah, I'm a comedian too." The reply was measured. She didn't want to sound to eager.
Scott's face started to twist into the strangest look and Molly's heart stood still as she expected the worst. "These are fucking hilarious! Guys, come read how fucking funny this chick is." As a gaggle they swarmed the laptop. Soon the room was filled with the howling, open-mouthed laughter of five genius men.
Kevin turned slowly, but even so his limbs flailed about in such a way that Molly couldn't help snort through her nose. "Hey, Molly… you can't be a Kid in the Hall, because we've already branded ourselves. But we think you're the funniest, smartest, coolest, most beautiful woman we've ever met." "Yeah! Even I want to fuck you and I'm gay!" Came Scott's two cents. Kevin's hand found hers in something like a handshake and more like a shoulder massage. "We want to be friends with you and hang out all the time." The other four were in unison behind him. "Yeah! Be our best friend!"
Molly's chest heaving, she took in the first full breath since their arrival. She was ecstatic. Her one good eye locked on Kevin's gaze. Silently, they mentally texted each other. His read, "U R my comedy sol mate." Hers read, "Tuk U long ENUF 2 find me."
Bringing out 6 down pillows, Molly barely had time to pass them around before heads were being smashed and giggles filled the air. You could have called it a fight, but no one was getting hurt. In fact they were all healing each other with love. They were all going to hang out all the time. Forever.
Link to Bruce's show.
I have recently discovered a new guilty pleasure online; fan fiction. Here is one of my favorite pieces. It’s equal parts understated and creepy. My favorite thing about this story is that I get to hear Keanu’s thoughts as well as our heroin’s. Man, the author must REALLY understand Keanu.
Awesome Fan fiction!
Who knew that the rantings of psycho, obsessive fans could be so god damned entertaining? It is my pleasure to present, in honor of Bruce McCullough and my long, long, LONG TIME LOVE for all the alumni of the Kids In the Hall, my own personal fan fiction which is completely based in reality... my reality. What?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kids In the Heart
Molly's heart races as her hand turns off the ignition. The Kids in the Hall Show had been better than she'd expected. After seeing them play previously three separate times on two different tours, she didn't think they could pull out too many more surprises. Their TV show had been off the air for many years and as comedians they had moved on to the solo projects that gave their egos a gentle stroke. Projects that separated them, from each other, and from Molly.
Molly's long supple legs exit the sexy, maroon Camero and drag her up to the door of her own apartment. A neighbor man getting his mail, turns around just in time to see Molly's profile before she enters her front door. "Is this an angel from sexual heaven?" he thought? "My boner says yes." Molly doesn't even notice him. Sigh. The facial expressions that Kevin McDonald used as his punch lines were already fading into the recesses of her mind. Tomorrow she would be paraphrasing setups and in a week all she would be able to say is… "Yeah, the show was pretty awesome."
Fiddle through a pile of Netflix DVD's and try to find one that will deaden her mind. Dull the pain of not being able to just… touch Kevin's hand, if even for a moment in passing to say "It's truly an honor." Sky High? How fitting. Kevin plays a small roll as a teacher. Popping it in she sits on her tasteful couch.
Before the previews even begin, there is a knock at the door. "Who could that be?" No one's expected to come over, and yet Molly's stomach somersaults with a pang of anxiety that bubbles from the guts that reside below her Goucci velour tracksuit. For a second her imagination has gotten the better of her. This wasn't going to be The Kids in the Hall at her door. How ridiculous.
Molly puts her deep seeded evergreen eye up to the peephole and she almost vomits into the soft pallet of her hot, wet mouth. "Oh my God!" That forehead, those eyes… it had come true! Kevin McDonald was knocking on her door. And behind him stood the other four members of the group; Dave, Bruce, Scott, and Mark. A deep breath washes over her tongue and settles into her perfectly sized bossom. (They're not too big, not too small…simply enough) Still as a statue she remains to let the blood come back to her brain. "They're just people, be cool."
"Hello?" Molly's voice was charming and steadfast as the door gave way to reveal their beautiful middle aged faces. Did they notice she was dancing inside her pants? Cause her body was still.
Kevin spoke first. "Sorry to bother you. We're The Kids in the Hall. Our limo just broke down outside your complex and we need a place to stay for the night. I know this sounds insane, but do you think we could crash here? We've got our own toothbrushes." Each man stands holding a pair of bunny slippers and a soft bristled, swivel head. Molly's eyes must have given her away because Kevin smiled. "Don't worry; we'll make the limo driver sleep in the car."
Upon entering the men set out scouring her CD, comic book, and DVD collection. Holding up 4 seasons worth of Kids in the Hall box sets, Mark hollers out "I guess we've got a fan here boys!" "Kids in the Who?" Molly is grinning at her own suave wit. The five men laugh out loud.
Bruce holds up her "Y the Last Man" collection of comic books. "Man, you seem so cool. We should party with you." Scott is pulling up documents on her computer. "Hey, are these your sketches?"
"Yeah, I'm a comedian too." The reply was measured. She didn't want to sound to eager.
Scott's face started to twist into the strangest look and Molly's heart stood still as she expected the worst. "These are fucking hilarious! Guys, come read how fucking funny this chick is." As a gaggle they swarmed the laptop. Soon the room was filled with the howling, open-mouthed laughter of five genius men.
Kevin turned slowly, but even so his limbs flailed about in such a way that Molly couldn't help snort through her nose. "Hey, Molly… you can't be a Kid in the Hall, because we've already branded ourselves. But we think you're the funniest, smartest, coolest, most beautiful woman we've ever met." "Yeah! Even I want to fuck you and I'm gay!" Came Scott's two cents. Kevin's hand found hers in something like a handshake and more like a shoulder massage. "We want to be friends with you and hang out all the time." The other four were in unison behind him. "Yeah! Be our best friend!"
Molly's chest heaving, she took in the first full breath since their arrival. She was ecstatic. Her one good eye locked on Kevin's gaze. Silently, they mentally texted each other. His read, "U R my comedy sol mate." Hers read, "Tuk U long ENUF 2 find me."
Bringing out 6 down pillows, Molly barely had time to pass them around before heads were being smashed and giggles filled the air. You could have called it a fight, but no one was getting hurt. In fact they were all healing each other with love. They were all going to hang out all the time. Forever.
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