If Stupid Were Fatal, They'd All Be Dead

You know what happens when you don't pay attention to your physical Netflix queue?
You get Rob Zombie's Halloween...and you watch it.

Now, I had seen this before and most of it seemed familiar. But, this time, I had some thoughts regarding this remake.

The first question that must have popped up was how in the fuck do we make Michael Myers  the victim? Well, obviously, you make everyone around him worse than a soulless killing machine.
Also, make them white trash*.
No, trashier...little more trashy...more...moooore....okay.
No.
More.
Little more.
Okay, good.
There.
NOW we shall sympathize with little Michael Myers as he kills a whole bunch of people, and I did, until he killed his promiscuous sister with the great ass, there, right there did I stop identifying and rooting for the child psychopath.

A quick aside to state the obvious here: Sherri Moon (Rob Zombie's wife...the lucky fucking whoreson) is actually a really strong actress. She does broken and desperate yet loving very well.

I like the subtle reinterpretation and reintroduction of the trademark Halloween Mask (although, at times, it looks like Henry Winkler and, at other times, Dustin Hoffman, neither of which are William Shatner). The shading and different angels they use on it brings about a depth I'd never noticed before.
Way to go, Rob.

Then, after Malcolm McDowell (the esteemed British child psychologist who is slumming in Bugfuck, Illinois for some odd and unexplained reason) overacts and underachieves with him, little Michael goes from "troubled little boy" to "super crazy little fucker" by stabbing a lazy nurse (who was told to watch the kid who killed four people and doesn't) with a fork.**

Jump forward fifteen years: Michael Myers is grown up, almost seven feet tall, has long, scraggly hair that's always in his face....wait...am I Michael Myers? His only friend in the whole world is a janitor, played by Danny Trejo, which is always a good sign.

Now, another aside in which I shall address typical, stupid horror movie behavior. Some might say that this is sort of a tradition and that's why it's still allowed to happen and, in some cases, even celebrated, but others are smart and see it for what it is: laziness. Don't misunderstand, if you are making an hilarious parody of a horror movies and these stale-ass tropes, say Scary Movie or something like that, and want to have all the stereotypical characters get locked in a stereotypical situation where stereotypical things will happen to them, go for it, but, go big or go home. What is about to happen in this movie, some might consider "going big", but, personally, I consider it "going stupid".

So, in order to juxtapose the quiet, caring figure of Danny Trejo, we have the screamingly stupid, dickhead redneck who, somehow SOMEHOW isn't frightened or even mildly concerned with the fact that Michael Myers is a convicted murderer and fucking eight feet tall. In a less...Rob Zombie movie, this redneck might tease Michael or hit him with a stick or something, pushing him too far until he snaps, but, guys, this is a fucking Rob Zombie movie...go big or fuck you. So, rather than just pissing off Michael, the idiot redneck and his cousin/brother/moonshine pally, bring another patient, a teenage girl, into his cell AND THEN PROCEED TO RAPE HER.
*sigh*
At least they should have closed the door before they got started.
Michael, in a startling turn of events, kills the both of them, some chick and then, sadly, Danny Trejo, who whispers, pathetically, while Michael kills the shit out of him, "I was good to you!"
Well that's it! I am now 100% done sympathizing with Michael Myers.
For now.

Once Michael has officially escaped, there is a scene with McDowell (who hasn't stopped chewing the goddamn scenery since he walked on screen amidst a flourish of trumpets and rose petals) and Clint Howard.
I'm pretty sure it was at that point that this stopped even being a "movie" and descended into "flick" territory.

Next, Michael kills the only black man in the movie, an embarrassingly over-the-top caricature of a human, in a bathroom, and then walks a hundred miles in a very short time to return to his home town where he kills a bunch of teenage girls who were way overdue for killing and who all have lovely breasts and bottoms.*** Speaking of which, thanks to Michael and, I suppose, Rob Zombie, I was given a chance to see if I was aroused or not by bloody boobs. I am happy to report that I am not.****

There is also a random title card that reads "Trick or treat". Throughout this movie, yes, there have been title cards, but they have only been utilized to give context as to the scene (i.e. "Fifteen years later", "October 31st", etc.), so, I don't know, I guess I'm asking Rob Zombie, "Why? What's up with the random title card that says 'Trick or treat'? What the fuck were you thinking?"

Moving on.

Michael starts killing a lot of people, most of who end up crawling around for a few minutes before Michael ends it. At one point, he's chasing one girl who's looking after two kids and, once he breaks down the front door, the girl commands, "Into the bathroom!" which confused me, especially since the bathroom door was mostly made of glass. Although, even if it wasn't made of glass...it's the bathroom, why is that room more secure from mask-wearing serial killers? Just because you poop somewhere doesn't mean it's the safest place in the house.

Eventually, Michael squares off against his mortal enemy: his 16-year old sister, and, after taking, like, six fucking slugs from a .357 at close range and a goddamn butcher's knife to the neck, the big fucker dies.
Totally.
Once and for all.
Then, after he pops back up like an adolescent's boner and attacks the car in which McDowell and Michael estranged sister sit, McDowell utters what might be the most unintentionally funniest exclamation I've heard in a horror movie...Michael smashes through the passenger window and is in the process of dragging his sister out when McDowell yells, "Jesus Christ!!! What the hell is going on?!"
Acting, Malcolm, that is what the hell is going on.
And you are not invited.
In the end, Michael totally dies again, super for real and is now gone for good totally.
Yeah.

The sequel arrives in the mail tomorrow.
I've been told that "Weird" Al Yankovic has a cameo.






* But not regular, sad white trash like in Winter's Bone, no. This is a Rob Zombie movie, so make them White Zombie Trash.

** How come the lazy idiots I work with never get stabbed with forks for their incompetence?

*** Credit where credit's due.
**** I wholeheartedly believe it is good to know such things about one's self.

Like Humans Do

Three days.
For THREE DAYS I have been living among you as a Daylighter.
Waking at 8:00 am, going to sleep before midnight.
Calling my first meal "breakfast" instead of "lunch" or "supper".
And, I have formed a conclusion regarding you who walk in the light: while you may get more done, you are all angry about this fact.
I cannot wait to return to the sweet, silky darkness...

The reason I've been exposing myself to such horrid, quotidian rituals all center around the Acting, to one degree or another. Wednesday and Thursday, it was for two 5-hour rehearsals for tomorrow and Sunday's recording sessions for Electromagnetic Theater, a new podcast/radio play series I'm in and, today, because Carabbas wanted my mouth and the sounds within.
AND I GAVE IT TO THEM.
I've worked with this company before on a Harley-Davidson commercial and...yeah.
Both were commercials.
Right on.
Before the industry shuts down for Christmas and New Years and all that, I have another session with Speakaboos on Thursday which, according to the Executive Content Producer, will be "meaty".
You know I love meat.
You know I love meat!

And now, let's move on to something else.
Specifically four bits of stuff that I have consumed/am in the midst of consuming.

First, after some suggestion from Alan, I have cracked open the first of the Young Bond books, of which there are five. The first one, SilverFin, starts off with Bond's first day at Eton as a 13 year old or something.
I've read about a third and I am utterly unimpressed.
Aside from the fact that this kid will, one day, turn into James Bond and kill some dude with a laser watch, this is pretty boring shit. Also, it appears that SilverFin is some sort of eel man.
I might continue, just to see what the fuck is going on, but I also might not, as Phil's brand new book, the first is his new tetrology, is sitting, hot and steaming, like a blood pie on my windowsill.
That rambled a bit.
I'd much rather read the latest work of fiction from my very good friend then some bullshit about a 13 year old James Bond matching wits with some eel man.

Then, there is American Horror Story, the first season of which Chris and I burned our way through in about four days.
It's like a darker and more in-depth Beetlejuice.
With rape.
And, I'm sorry, but Jesus fucking goddamn CHRIST is Alexandra Breckenridge hotter than lava with a sunburn or WHAT?!*
I love love love that the guys who did Glee did this as well.
Let's see...Zachary Quinto is awesome, the opening credits (visuals by the guy who did the credits for Se7en and music by the former keyboardist from Nine Inch Nails) are amazing nightmare brownie cake and...shit, I don't know, the whole thing is incredible and twisted and I'm gloriously happy that I missed hearing anything about it until now.

But, good TV must, sadly, be opposed by bad TV...and, yes, I'm addressing YOU, Buffy The Vampire Slayer.
So, I missed the phenomenon of Buffy when it was on. My first exposure to Buffy was fucking EVERYONE in my high school overquoting the shit out of it and, if they were a girl, ladyjerking over Spike. I encountered Joss Whedon's writing for the first time (I think) in Firefly, which I loved, then Dollhouse and so on and so forth. Jen made an arrangement with me that if I gave Buffy another chance (I'd watched the first season and was thoroughly unimpressed and puzzled at its popularity and success): just watch a select number of episodes from the second season, and she would, in turn, watch Dollhouse, which she had not touched because of here (completely justified) hatred of Eliza Dushku, the lead character.
While Dollhouse seems to be growing on her (although the core premise makes her rather furious and sick, and rightly so), I am NOT having the same reaction to Buffy.
Some of the issues I'm having:

1. Xander - I can't think of any character that has made me want to crawl inside my TV and make killing more than this pud. I say, out loud, "Shut the fuck up, Xander" several times per episode. And, by the way, before anyone comes back with, "He's written that way on purpose! You're supposed to hate him!", may I offer a retort: AN INTENTIONALLY ANNOYING CHARACTER IS STILL FUCKING ANNOYING.

2. You know...I just don't care enough to list reasons. I'll do my best to watch the five or six more episodes I said I would, "ten millions Americas can't be wrong" and al that. I can't explain it. Maybe this is like my thing with Wes Anderson...everyone I know who has seen all the Wes Anderson movies seems to like every one except one. For me, it's Rushmore. Can't stand it, can't watch it, but, I own everything else the guy has done, and, while I like some (Life Aquatic, Royal Tenenbaums) more than others (Darjeetling Limited, Bottle Rocket), the only one I hate is Rushmore.
Perhaps Buffy is my Rushmore.
Or perhaps I'm putting too much effort into talking about this...

I also watched Disaster Movie.
*sigh*
Can I hire someone to warn me when I start thinking about watching certain TV and movies?
And, here's the thing, I knew what I was in for! I saw Not Another Teen Movie! I saw Epic Movie! This is entirely my fault! Half of this shitty piece of lowest-common-denominator shit was the cast looking puzzled/disgusted/confusing/annoyed/unbelieving/bemused/worried/incredulous at something happening. Then shaking their heads like, "Whoa, what was that, that was weird!!!!!" and then doing it again on a different set.
For 90 minutes.
Two things I enjoyed: the Princess was great and the chipmunks were also pretty great.
But that is about four minuets of funny in an hour and a half long movie.
And I have NO ONE to blame but my fucking self.
This isn't Mystery Science Theater! I AM NOT BEING FORCED TO WATCH THESE THINGS!

And, the last crouton on this shit salad: I played through Lollipop Cheerleader. It's....so substanceless... Or, no, more like a hollow turkey dinner...no...hm...okay, the game's creator, Suda 51, became infamous for his random and somewhat bawdy sense of humor with his utterly out there games like God Hand and No More Heroes and Killer 7, but Lollipop Cheerleader...I don't know, it's like there's nothing there...playing it was a chore, the dialogue was trite and, at times, violently sexist for no reason at all....it's like it doesn't even exist...I can't even put it into words...
So, I won't.
If I'd paid more than $20 for it, I might have been more upset, but I didn't so I'm not.

Moving on...
to nothing.







* I'm a man with a penis. Deal with it. DEAL WITH IT NOW.

A review of Coil's "Time Machines"

This...is going to be a tough one, maybe the toughest.
So, Time Machines (originally released in 1998), according to John Balance, is meant to facilitate time travel and to create time disruption or "temporal slips" for the listener.
I have yet to experience any such event, although, as all of the tracks share their names with hallucinogenic substances, perhaps it's me that's doing something wrong.
You know, I'll just quote Balance on this one:

One of the interesting things with Time Machines is that there's a handful of responses which we've had where what happened to the listeners was exactly what we intended to happen. There would be some kind of temporal disruption caused by just listening to the music, just interacting with the music. The drugs thing is actually a hook we hung it on - it originally came out of me and Drew talking that some of the types of music you listen to - sacred musics like Tibetan music or anything with a sacred intent which often is long ceremonial type music which could last for a day or three days or something. There are periods of time in that where you will come out of time. That's the intention of it to go into a trance and achieve an otherness. We thought can we do this sort of electronic punk-primitive? We did demos with a simple mono synth and we managed it. We sat in the room and listened to it loud and we lost track of time - it could be five minutes in or 20 minutes in but you suddenly get this feeling, the hairs on the back of your neck, and you'd realise that you'd had some sort of temporal slip. We fine-tuned, well, filters and oscillators and stuff, to try and maximise this effect. It was that we were after with simple tones - somehow you could slip through.

So...yeah.
This may or may not be the case, but here is my experience with Time Machines.

The first track, "7-Methoxy-β-Carboline: (Telepathine)", is pure texture. One note which is oscillated and phased and subtly adjusted over the course of twenty-three minutes (give or take a spacial dimension or two). It's sort of like the aural equivalent of the ocean's surface: affected by the wind, the planet's motion, the creatures within it and so on. A phrase came to mind while I was listening to it: "staring at a candle in a completely darkened room, finding total focus and meaning therein."
Then again, I was ingesting a lot of Telepathine at the time.
One thing I will say, when I accedentally bumped my iPod and paused the track, the resultant silence was jarring; there's definately an all-enveloping sound created here and leaving it abruptly is quite unpleasant.

Well...there seem to be only two elements in "2,5-Dimethoxy-4-Ethyl-Amphetamine: (DOET/Hecate)", the parts that ripple and the parts that don't.  Compared to this, the first track is a symphony. Then again, this is only a scant thirteen and a half minutes and I completely understand if they didn't really have time to fully evolve and explore the track like they wanted to.
Can you sense my sarcasm?
Is my sarcasm real?
How can you tell?
Whose eye stalks are growing out of my fingertips?
Let's move on...

The trombone solo at the start of "5-Methoxy-N, N-Dimethyltryptamine: (5-MeO-DMT)" is just stunning.
Just kidding. More of the not-exactly-the-same-but-pretty-much-the-same, although, the note that makes up this track is noticeably higher in pitch and the minute variations are more dramatic (while still being minute) and come more frequently here. There seems to actually be something happening in the background, unless that's just my brain playing tricks on itself. While nothing on this album could really be considered soothing, this one is the least soothing thus far. "5-Methoxy-N, N-Dimethyltryptamine: (5-MeO-DMT)" isn't for floating, unaware, in a pool of ichor in some malignant lagoon or meditating on the cold, black infinity of space, it's for opening one's third eye...and firing optic blasts from it. Clocking in at just over ten minutes, this can barely be considered a song...relatively speaking...I mean, nothing here can actually be considered a song by any sane and established definitions.

The final, epic track of Time Machines, "4-Indolol, 3-[2-(Dimethylamino)Ethyl], Phosphate Ester: (Psilocybin)", is over twenty-six minutes long and, thusly, forced me to look inside myself and ask the hard questions: Is this pool of light in which I'm standing sentient? If not, then how could it have created the shadows which surround it? Is not creation the act of a sentient being? If not, what does this imply about God? Is guava a donut? While the other tracks felt a bit sterile and digital, this one sounds organic enough to give off a distinctly infected feel. Here is the score for a temple full of the dead, in the presence of worms. There arises a persistent, high-pitched tone like a hearing test which is all that remains when the main note fades away and a huge, thrumming, like a faulty generator, begins to float threateningly in from the abyss beyond the windows, doing nothing to make anyone feel better: the power is about to go out, then we'll be left here, alone, in the dark, with the things.
Finally, everything fades away, and we're left with something that sounds a little bit like the first few notes of "Taps". After a bit more distortion, Time Machines ends.

I've never been more afraid of being exposed to a brown note than while listening to Coil*, and I've never been more wary than while listening to this album. But, as I haven't shit myself while listening to them**, I guess it was all in my mind. Throughout this album, specifically on track two, I kept waiting for some simple yet compelling percussion to come in and for Thom Yorke to start keening about something profound. I also kept expecting the world around me to melt away into a waxy, rainbow-colored gruel, revealing the true nature of time and the Universe and the secrets of pants.
But neither of those things happened.***
Maybe I wasn't listening hard enough.
Or maybe I wasn't ingesting mind-altering substances.
Or both.
Who knows?







* Marilyn Manson has always talked about putting brown notes and ultra-high frequency noises into his stuff, but Coil's mindfuckery makes Manson's poor attempt at it look like a fart in a thunderstorm.

** Yet.

*** Although it was very surreal to listen to track four while standing in the heart of Times Square during lunchtime.

A review of Coil's "The Unreleased Themes For Hellraiser"

Decided to give myself a little break after the epic, aural investment that was The Remote Viewer and check out the music Coil composed for use in the 1987 horror film, Clive Barker's Hellraiser. However, it turned out that the studio thought what they had come up with was "not commercial enough" for this movie about demons dragging people to hell and the blurry line between pleasure and pain, so they went in another direction. Whether or not the folks at the studio had ever actually seen the film or not is unclear as Coil's stuff is fucking perfect for a movie like this. And (of course) the majority of the music on this release is so ridiculously tame for Coil, one has to wonder if those same studio folks had ever heard anything by the band before asking them to score the movie.
Anal Staircase? Helllooo?

In the end, the studio went with Christopher Young, who did a very boring and typical job on the score (*slow, unimpressed clapping noise made by lazy hip thrusts which result in my penis slapping my scrotum*), and Coil released what they had created as an album...an incredibly short (six tracks, with nary a one over four minutes) and, for the most part, incredibly tame album.* Along with the six "main" tracks, they included eleven tracks (nary a one over a minute and a half) of very short incidental music with titles like "Perfume" and "Airline 1 & 2" and "Cosmetic 1 & 2". These are so utterly unlike Coil that I kinda sorta don't believe it's them, especially on the final track, "Accident Insurance", which is so melodic and soft and airy and beautiful that it's absolutely jaw-dropping to think it sprang forth from the same diseased mind as did (insert, literally, any Coil track released up to this point in time).
Anyway, onto the album...

Of the six tracks, there are four that are so similar in arrangement and instrumentation that they might as well be the four movements of one, larger piece. All have common elements, such as the same (or very nearly the same) wash of painfully late-80's synth (which were probably thought of as sleek and dangerous back then), a didgeridoo and what sounds like a dentist's drill way up in the left channel. While the first, "Hellraiser Theme", has some stuff in it that's so reminiscent of Mark Snow's work on both Twin Peaks and X-Files (not to mention elements of the score from Labyrinth, mostly the drums) that I was unable to focus, the second, "The Hellbound Heart" features a twangy, broken-sounding piano and a nice progression of sound that work really well.
The third track, "Box Theme", is the first of two diversions from the blendy, sound-alike nature of the menacing 80's synth wash. It's all detuned music boxes, clicking, clanking clockwork and jagged metal bits, ready to cut one's fingers and transmit something nasty into the blood. Anyone familiar with the Hellraiser franchise knows that the puzzle box plays a major role in the mythology and this would have been perfect to usher it onto the screen and into our nightmares.
Then, the synth wash is back on the more subtle and sparse "No New World". Honestly though, "subtle" and "sparse" are just polite ways of saying "forgettable".
Next, the second detour from this shockingly mundane Coil offering, "Attack of the Sennapods."** This right here is another foray into the heart of Silent Hill. The two most prominent sounds are an electronic/mechanical chittering noise and what sounds like a horde of the roiling, unquiet dead heard through a thin door...one which they are actively looking to open and enter through. This track (plus that constant, almost unnoticed, potentially subliminal(?) high-pitched drill noise) might have been what changed the studio's mind when it came to Coil.
"Well, gosh, we don't want to scare people, do we?!"
Fools.
After this little night terror, we return to "Main Theme", the final track and probably the one that utilizes the pervasive 80's frame of mind the best. The instrumentation (sort of a backwards pipe thing) works great with the synth wash and even more so once the drums and piano join in. I'd have been happy with just this and maybe "The Hellbound Heart", as the others that mimic these take something away.

So, there you have it.
Roughly twenty minutes of the most un-Coily Coil music I have ever heard.
Music that, while very un-Coily, is very Hellraiser-y and would have made that movie even more memorable than it already is.
Hm.
This was too easy, too accessible, too enjoyable, but, don't worry, there's nowhere to go from here but down...and next week...I will get down...and, perhaps, travel in time...








* There were four more tracks from the Hellraiser sessions (about ten minutes more total) which popped up later on the b-side and rarity collection, Unnatural History II.

** Which may be a version of the name of the franchise's iconic antagonists, the Cenobites. Pinhead? Helllooo?

A List Of Why Today Is Good (in no particular order)

1. My VO re-record for Lenovo went off without a hitch and was received by the L.A. cell of TransPerfect, also without a hitch.

2. My copy of Lollipop Chainsaw arrived.

3. I have the Fraggle Rock theme stuck in my head and I'm loving every second of it.

4. Didn't feel exhausted after working out.

5. Speakaboos is having me back for a 3 hour session next week.

6. A mind-boggling fifty people have read my review of Coil's Scatology, I think due so some French dude who favorited the tweet in which the link was contained. Vive la France! Vive Coil!

7. The legion of endorphins blasting through my blood stream thanks to number 4.

8. Chris and I are two steps closer to locking down our catering for the wedding.

9. I just found out that Cake is coming to the Bowery Ballroom about two weeks before my birthday.

10. Realized that today is Thursday and not Wednesday.

Like Rinsing My Brain Under A Waterfall

Today, I just put on my iPod and hit shuffle.
No Coil.
It was....so...refreshing...I cannot speak of it...

Back to the Coil Review Project tomorrow.

But...for today...anything but Coil...

It Ain't Easy Being Awesome -OR- It's Actually Pretty Easy And Awesome Being Awesome

First, some victorious self-tooting, if I may.
Without going into too much detail: I had a VO session with a big corporation recently.
The promised rate was $1000.
After the session, the producer told some untruth to my agent regarding me, which I, rather rabidly, refuted.
Next, instead of having me back in to do some more work on the session (which they asked about in an earlier e-mail), they decided to go with another talent (which has happened to me before and doesn't really matter because this was a poorly written internal thing which no one was really going to have seen anyway and, either way, whether they use it or not, I still get paid) and then try to ask for an invoice...for $300.
Hey now wait.
There were e-mails exchanged back and forth, all of which amounted to jack shit, because the contract I received FROM said producer on the day of the session said, clearly, $1000.
Anyway, after some bullshit, this huge and very well-paid corporation found it in their gigantic and love-filled hearts to honor the original fucking contract.
Fucking assholes.
Anyway, hard won victory.
Tastes like the best lobster rolls in Maine.

On top of that, tomorrow and Wednesday I have bookings, one for MCCH...whatever that is, and then I go back in for some more Miriam Hospital stuff.
Plus, last week, San Pelligrino had me back for my third session for their new internal video thing.
It's sexy and sexy and yeah.

Over the weekend, I recorded three episodes of digressive_obscenity (with Ray Zibba Zabba, Alex "Wide Receiver" Pakla and Dawn Brooke Owens, putting me four away from my goal of ten for the first wave. While I have a few potential guests lined up, I'm always looking for more, so, let me know if you have an iPhone and an urge to get digressive with me.

Aside from creative things that I am involved with, there's a bunch of creative stuff that I am not involved with that I am enjoying.

Such as Community (after having it, literally, forced down my throat by Jen and Lisa, I have finally sat down and burned my way thought the first two and a half seasons, leaving me with only 12 or 13 more episodes before they are finished and a part of me dies...until February. On the whole, I have found real enjoyment, and, in some cases, like the paintball episodes and that parallel dimension episode, some profound joy, but, while I haven't disliked any one episode, sometimes the hype doesn't live up to the product. It is, however, immanently quotable. And season three is delightfully batshit thus far.).

I've also just embarked upon the fifth season of Mad Men and...well, things are happening there as well. I continue to love how hateable Roger is. And seeing Alison Brie as both Pete Campbell's wife and Annie Edison is...confusingly arousing or arousingly confusing.
Or both.

Just recently, Chris stumbled across what may be the darkest and most disjointed Brit-com I've ever seen. It's called Snuff Box and is (incredibly) loosely based around these two hangmen, Matt Berry and Rich Fulcher. These guys have popped up in The IT Crowd and Mighty Boosh as well as a bunch of other BBC stuff (I love how incestuous the BBC is...) and...it's pretty insane. I don't really think I can explain it...so...I'd say you should just track it down; it's streaming on Netflix.
If this helps, Christina is convinced that I've written about 80% of it.

Over the weekend, Chris and I also took in Pirate Radio (which, while nothing more than a blow job for all of rock and roll- not that there is a thing wrong with that, rock and roll is pretty awesome- had an amazing cast and some of the best deleted scenes I've seen since Wet Hot American Summer. Sadly, it also had a lot of montages the content of which covered "people listening to the radio while happy", "people dancing while listening to the radio" and "people listening to the radio while sad". Maybe if they had cut out some of these montages, they could have fit some of the forty minutes of deleted scenes back into the film.) and Perfume: The Story of a Murderer (which is based on a book that Marilyn Manson has been fellating since the early 90's. It stars Ben Whishaw (the new Q) and, after seeing this, I truly believe that he should be the next Bond villain. Wow is this dark and well shot and that makes it worse because you can clearly see all the dark and horrible shit going on on the screen. Worth a look if you have the balls and guts and stomach and other parts of human anatomy.).

Along with these, I was almost done re-reading The Langoliers, but got bored when they started refueling the jet, and put it down in favor of re-reading some of the Ian Fleming Bond books, namely Live and Let Die. I've also ordered the first of the Young Bond series from the early 00's as Alan has been going on about them favorablyy for quite a while.

I also have the urge to read more Iron Man...so that may happen as well...if you're lucky.

Shockingly, I haven't been doing much gaming as I'm still waiting for that Resident Evil 6 update that allows Jen and I to finally finish the fucking game. I AM SUCH A GOOD AND PATIENT FRIEND AS I COULD HAVE FINISHED THIS ON MY OWN MONTHS AGO!!!!! I have five brand new, unopened video games (The Amazing Spider-Man, Silent Hill: Downpour, Shadows of the Damned and Assassin's Creed 3 with Lollipop Chainsaw on the way) and all I want to do is finish RE6.
WHY IS LIFE SO UNFAIR?!

I don't know why these things keep happening to me.

But, aside from all this horrible stuff, the plans for my wedding to my One and Only are running smoothly now that the election is over. She's got her dress and, hopefully, this weekend will result in our caterers being booked...hopefully. I am finding that the money-grubbing, love-raping, cold, gray, stone-faced wedding industry is not making me love Christina any less, so I guess that's something.

End of the Month Music Bitchfest - November 2012

Nine Inch Nails

• The release (finally) of some new How to destroy angels_ music with their "An omen EP_". Despite the pretentious and superfluous* punctuation choices, this is a really solid release and makes me even more stoked for the full length album, coming in "Spring 2013"...apparently. Between this, their first EP and that cover of "Is Your Love Strong Enough?", one could cobble together about an hour's worth of HTDA music...if one were so desperate for How to destroy angels_ music inclined. I reviewed it and you didn't/don't want to read it. Also, the band released their music video for "Ice age", directed by John Hillcoat (director of The Road). Not bad; there are some pretty cool visual effects towards the end that seem slightly reminiscent of the video for NIN's "The Hand That Feeds" but cooler. And, is it me, or are Mariqueen's eyebrows COMING OUT OF THE SCREEN TO KILL YOU!!!!!! Take a look.

• The release of the "Theme for Call of Duty: Black Ops II", both the "original" version and the "orchestral" version. What can I say? It sounds like Nine Inch Nails doing a huge and cinematic video game theme song. Check it out.

• Trent Reznor's very first AMA ("Ask Me Anything", not "Against Medical Advice") session over at Reddit. In a nutshell: mostly bad or no news, some cockteasing and cryptic bullshitery and a few breadcrumbs that NIN fans will have to make into twelve course meals for the next decade or so. No surprises there. Put on your Internet Asshole Boots and slog on through, if you really want to.

• But, the most exciting bit of Nine Inch Nails news this month (ACTUAL Nine Inch Nails news, not Trent Reznor, not HTDA) is the procurement of four unreleased remixes that Danny Hyde (a remix artist and occasional member of Coil) created for Nine Inch Nails back in the 90's: one for the remix EP Fixed and three for the remix album Further Down The Spiral (which, I just got learned from the interthing, is one of the highest selling remix albums in music history). It's these remixes (the first two, for "Gave Up" and "Closer" are great, the second two, for "The Downward Spiral" and "Eraser" are less than great) that spurred this "Coil Review Project" that I have foolhardily undertaken. The things Coil does to these songs...in some cases they strip them down to their barest elements and in others, they completely obfuscate and dement everything familiar about them. Theirs are the most interesting (and, at times, unlistenable) Nine Inch Nails remixes to date and nothing since has been as noteworthy. I'll put it another way: you've seen Se7en? You know those amazing opening credits? That's Coil's remix of "Closer". Also in this bundle of music acquired by the Nine Inch Nails discussion board community, Echoing The Sound, are a handful of edits of the remix of "Gave Up" which appear in the new(?) film, Young Americans. If you have any interest, you can find these on The Pirate Bay and...potentially nowhere else.

Eels

E...come on, seriously, this is too much! Mere days after reappearing and announcing a new album, a pre-order page pops up on the official Eels site offering a version of the album with a second disc containing another thirteen tracks! Five are all new b-sides and the rest are live tracks from their wang-rocking 2010 and 2011 tours. Plus, they've put up a brand new track. It's called "Peach Blossom" and it is just delightful. Spoiler alert: the celeste is BACK. Over the next two months, we'll probably see a music video or two and get another one or two songs as well. How do I know? BECAUSE E IS GOD DAMN DEPENDABLE, THAT'S WHY.
Along with this promise of twice what fans were expecting, Eels also posted some initial dates for their 2013 world tour.
Yes, they are coming to New York City (Friday, March 1st, Webster Hall) and, yes, I will be in attendance.



Beck

Beck's "Song Reader" is available now, apparently, although I'm not going to purchase it; it would be like Stephen King releasing a book only in Braille; only a small portion of his fans could enjoy it, and I am not among them. The preface, which sort of serves as his mission statement, has been posted and, while it is very well written and intriguing, I still cannot get behind this project. This really bums me out, but, there you go. I'll see which artists end up officially recording these twenty songs, but don't expect me to do backflips until Beck changes his mind and records the damn thing himself. To witness/take part in the shit show that is this amazing, never-before-seen musical experiment, head over to www.songreader.net and weep a bitter tear...or discover a hot new talent, I don't fucking know, however, if you do go there and you do listen to a bunch of the submissions, I beg of you, don't come back at me with, "You know, these actually aren't that bad..." just keep it to yourself and peddle your burnt and reeking spandex elsewhere.


They Might Be Giants

Still no movement with that fucking pizza...BUT, despite that, work on TMBG's 16th album is going very well according to Flansburgh (the final tracking session was on the 27th). There have also been a few more IFC goodies that I can't tell you about but of which you should be really jealous.
The band has also posted a heck of a lot of song titles from their upcoming album and its inevitable companion album of weird/inaccessible b-sides. Flans stated that the album is tentatively set for a late February or early March release.



Aside from my misguided quest to listen to all of Coil...there's really nothing else to speak of. I suppose, when I'm though with that little project, I'll talk to my contact at Rolling Stone and have it published....or just let them all sit quietly on the internet and die, slowly, from disinterest.
Either way.

*sigh*











* For the moment...maybe this is just the initial phases of some profound and amazing oh never mind.

A review of Coil's "The Remote Viewer"

This week, I decided to jump from Coil's first album sixteen years into the future (2002) and listen to something I've been curious about for years. It's called The Remote Viewer and is made up of five tracks (Remote Viewing 1-5), totaling just over an hour with the longest track (RV3) clocking in at a hair over twenty minutes and the shortest track (RV2), just a hair under eight minutes. There are no lyrics, only sounds. I was expecting some of that unlistenable clangor I keep mentioning, but I was surprised to find little, if any, on the album.

Remote Viewing 1 - Melodic, beautiful and sad. The insectile harmony in the background seems to fade away once the more musical elements are introduced. The bagpipes are abrasive, no doubt, but not intentionally so.* After the halfway point, things separate a bit and open up as the track starts to feel huge and expansive, a vast darkness, like a mine. The fact that this doesn't feel like twenty minutes is a credit to how solidly it's constructed.

Remote Viewing 2 - Okay, so, in the future presented here in The Remote Viewer, the sewer system of whatever megalopolises exist are run by computers. RV2 is the program error that bursts all the pipes and lets the sewage out and the rats in. The electric rats. Then, once we've dripped down and underneath these torn pipes and sparking rats, we find a tribal ceremony...and also a guy making a flobbery lip noise into some machines.** This is a lot more restrained and subdued than the proceeding track, more ambient.

Remote Viewing 3 - This is a dystopian future remix of the first track. The pervasive flutter and flicker of noise sounds like Coil produced and engineered an audio error by extracting badly damaged, almost unreadable data from a hard drive then converted it to sound. Then, the melody comes in and it begins to feel like the neo-Middle East.*** Things change noticeably when a scrambled vocal sample and a new melody are introduced and even more so when the bass comes in. This is a really spectacular moment. After spending some time bouncing around inside this weird place it's created, RV3 blips itself to death.

Remote Viewing 4 - A malfunctioning, robot minister preaches to its glitchy, broken congregation, which responds by raising its voice in unison until the beat comes in and the service begins: heavy, industrial and, like RV 3, slightly Middle Eastern. At one point, everything cools down and fades away in a tide of not-quite-static before those omnipresent bagpipes kick in, and that awesome, driving beat picks back up. Eventually, things finally dissolve into a cloud of dark strings. This is the most immediately engaging track here; while there is some unpleasant noise, it's far less unpleasant that anything else on the album...which is a horrible way to get someone to listen to something, but, there you go.

Remote Viewing 5 - This starts out darkly mischievous, like a prank that will inevitably result in mutilation. Then the fake guitar/keyboard piano comes in and, at first, kind of ruins the mood; it sounds so dated, like a bad Bond movie score or 80's Depeche Mode...but, upon further listens, it works very well with the rest of what's going on, it just seems a bit incongruous with everything that's come before it. The beat is really great. RV5 sounds cold, anachronistic and Siberian.

As a whole, The Remote Viewer was more than just listenable, it was really great; fully realized, well assembled and featuring some very melodic arrangements. RV5 was a slightly disappointing conclusion to what ended up being a surprisingly good and deep album.
If I had to throw out some themes for this album, they would include: insects and robots in church, the Middle East, technology gone wrong, bag pipes...hm, these aren't really themes so much as the sounds that make up RV. Okay, let's try this: the theme is hidden beauty; that, sometimes, you have to sift through the noise and chaos to find the soft, melodic center of things, you have to earn it.
Yeah, I like that better.
The Remote Viewer, when stacked up against everything else I've heard thus far is so shockingly different...it's internal and reflective...miles away from the likes of "Panic", "Circles Of Mania" and "The Anal Staircase".
To put it another way: Normal people might actually enjoy some of this.
Of which I am not one, so, maybe I'm completely wrong.
Ah well.
Thanks for being here.










* I think. My tolerance for Coil might just be getting higher

** I never said this narrative made sense, this is a Coil album.

*** Whatever that is.

A review of Coil's "Scatology"

Yup, "the study of excrement".

And, yup, the album cover is an upside-down cross with a naked ass in it.

Here we go.

This is Coil's very first album (originally released in 1984) and I have NO clue for whom it was intended.

The more I learn about the band and their practices as far as releasing albums and their live shows...well, I seem to actually be learning less about who their intended audience was. So I'm just going to assume that they were making this for themselves, which is a perfectly valid reason for someone to make music. The fact that it somehow got out to the general public is a little harder to understand, but, hey, taste, am I right?

No.

The album starts with "Ubu Noir", a song that would be the perfect background music to a demonic church social/bake sale/sock hop...or maybe a masquerade where, underneath the guests' masks, there are only holes that pass into other dimensions... The looping, somehow swaggering, lunatic horns combined with the tolling of huge, sepulchral bells and the sound of what could be a man undergoing some sort of torture is...well, it's Coil. Pure Coil. This song tends to make the people I have played it for uncomfortable. Something is definitely wrong here.

The next track, "Panic" makes me uncomfortable...because it is so cringingly 80's and badly executed. The drum machine on this very well could be the same one that They Might Be Giants used on their debut album...also originally released in 1986. The handclaps certainly sound familiar... John Balance spends most of this song just yelling stuff and it's awful. It isn't scary or creepy, just really abrasive and obnoxious. And dated. It has a very Mighty Boosh vibe to it.
"Panic" is followed by another straight-up amazing Coil instrumental: the simple yet profound sadness and terror of "At The Heart Of It All". There is something lurking here... I can't think of many better uses of simple reverb and I know there does not exist a more effective and unsettling arrangement of clarinet, keyboard and piano. This is uneasy closure...a funeral for a beloved villain...a sexually abusive father who may or may not have been killed by the focus of his abuse.
"Tenderness of Wolves" combines a repetitive crashing sound, the sound of children in distress*, a badly strummed guitar and those horrible synthesized tooting whistles from the score to IT, which, while still pretty creepy, isn't nearly as epic and profound as ATHOIA. After a minute or so of this disturbing soundscape, we get Balance reciting what might be a nursery rhyme for very, very bad children in an insectile voice that just crawls right behind your eyeballs and starts kicking. It is quite annoying...much like the next track "The Spoiler".
This sound like a rambunctious sea shanty/waltz and, once again, reminds me of something from Mighty Boosh; I can actually see the Hitcher performing this. After about thirty seconds, one gets tired of Balance yelling "Spoilah! Spoooilah! The spooooooilaaaaaah!!", and yet, the song goes on...annoying and grating, the song goes on. I imagine that Rob Zombie really loves this and wants to make a retro-50's horror film based on it.
"Clap" is a little over a minute and I firmly believe that, somewhere, there is a forty-eight minute EP comprised solely of the individual tracks that make up this song. It opens with some of that bendy, shrieking guitar that is also featured in Prince's "Computer Blue", which, believe me, was very confusing. Then, a thumping, monotonous video gamey beat comes in and that's sort of it. This could have become something interesting...or that aforementioned forty-eight minute EP I mentioned, so, I'll just say I'm fine with this being the length it is and move on.
"Restless Day", like "Tenderness of Wolves" also has a nursery rhyme quality to it. It gets better with progressive listens, but not much. It almost sounds a bit like Primus at time... This one really doesn't stand out all that much. The vocals are less insectile and more nasal; I'm not actually sure if this is John Balance or Peter Christopherson on vocals.
Then, another perfect piece of murder music: "Aqua Regis". This is another track where, as soon as it comes on, everything around you becomes more dangerous and broken. If I didn't know better, I'd say that Trent Reznor sampled the massive clanking in this for his track "Reptile"**. This is so completely Silent Hill that one must question Akira Yamaoka's awareness of Coil; it's too easy to picture Pyramid Head slowly making his way into some flooded, subterranean lair while this drones on in the background.
Next, an act of invocation with "Solar Lodge". I really like the simplicity here. The thudding background and squalling guitars seem to matter less as soon as Balance start chanting the lyrics, again and again: they are basic, easy to remember, like a prayer... "See the black sun rise / from the solar lodge"
Dripping sewage and a huge, moaning guitar or horn of some sort coalesce with an occasional skittering hi-hat to form "The Sewage Worker's Birthday Party". Such an evocative title... The huge sound, whether it's a guitar or a horn, remind me of the Nine Inch Nails track "At the Heart Of It All"***. At one point, you can hear someone opening a present...maybe it's soap.
The first thirty seconds or so of "Godhead=Deathead" consists of the sounds of Balance (or someone) opening a package and then...well, that someone making love to bubble wrap. You don't believe me? Listen for yourself. Then, it becomes some bizarre polka, interrupted by Balance's anti-Christina grunting and squeaking, then back to the dance floor at Hell's most popular pub.
The penultimate track, "Cathedral In Flames" (a bit on the nose, eh, gentlemen?) has a huge and pompous (and faux) Grecian feel to it which just makes this already ridiculous song even more so. Although the lyrics, like that of "The Golden Section", have a Biblical feel to them:

Circle within Circle / And when that hour came / From words they passed to deeds / Spires, Spirals, and Stones rise / And in the distance, a cathedral in flames / Given a chance to recover his breath / And exposed to the process once more / The youth squirmed / In a shower of gold / That etched on his skin the words: 'Paradise stands in the shadow of Swords'

Pretty chilling stuff.

And then...the final track of Scatology...a cover of Gloria Jones' "Tainted Love".

Oh man is this the least accessible cover of anything ever. So, when Soft Cell covered this, it focused on the vulnerability of the lyrics, when Manson did his cover, he focused on the anger one might feel in this situation, but Coil's cover? Pure, black, soul-obliterating self-loathing. This isn't a guy with a broken heart pining for his lost love, this is a guy with a broken heart which has been stuffed with dead insects floating in formaldehyde. Add to these themes "death by AIDS (the subject matter of the music video)" and you've got quite the chart topper on your hands. Whew.

Scatology is so binary...you have tracks like "Ubu Noir", "At The Heart Of It All" and "Aqua Regis"; huge, soundscapes which spawn a variety of neverending vists one must never look upon...and then things like "Panic", "The Spoiler" and "Godhead=Deathead" which are just so...my-older-brother's-basement-4-track. After their very first release, the hilariously spare and unlistenable sixteen plus minute How To Destroy Angels EP (which consists of that "song" and then a track called "Absolute Elsewhere", which is a blank vinyl side), some of this fits right in and some of this is so...unexpected and...poppy. 

And I'm still wondering who was buying these albums and going, "Yeah...yeah, okay, I get it..."

While I don't think I'm going to really gain any deeper understanding as I continue my aural adventure, I'm certain that I will start to shit myself more often.

And that should be interesting.

Until next week.

* Something Marilyn Manson borrowed heavily from for hi s"he Hands Of Small Children"

** But I do know better; that the sample in "Reptile" is from The Poisedon Adventure.

*** Totally unrelated to the track of the same name from earlier on this album, although it's been speculated that it might be a reference.

A review of Coil's "Horse Rotorvator"

First things first: Horse Rotorvator. The album is called Horse Rotorvator.

And we all have to deal with that fact.

So, continuing with my self-inflicted masochistic quest to force my ears all the way through Coil's illusive discography, this week I have been chewing on their second full length album...Horse Rotorvator, which was released in 1987.

The first track from this work is something I have been familiar with for years; it's called "The Anal Staircase" and it is fucking ridiculous.

"And the angels kiss/Our souls in bliss/Measure the extent of a dizzying descent/Down the Anal staircase/Put just one foot on the staircase/And the next step you're down here on this face/Down the Anal staircase"

Is it a warning? An invitation? What are the stairs made of? So many questions that I do not want answered. The music is hilariously over-the-top, with swooping strings (taken from Stravinsky's "Rites of Spring"), a thudding drum that could be an actual timpani and (of course) the sound of children laughing.
There's also a lot of industrial stuff that sounds a whole lot like something from Nine Inch Nails' debut album which came out two years later. Hearing this, it's hard to believe that, about ten years later, Coil will make the nightmare that is A Thousand Lights In A Darkened Room, but, hey, evolution, man, right?
Next up is a somewhat annoyingly twangy and bouncy track called "Slur" which sounds like something from one of the less accessible shorts on Liquid Television. There's some interesting stuff floating around on this one.
Things begin to get a bit more intense and less silly with "Ostia (The Death of Pasolini)", which has some surprisingly beautiful violin in it, as well as that ancient, ritualistic feel that can be quite unsettling when listened to in the right circumstances; not terrifying, just evocative. The lyrics refer to Samson and his battle with the lion and also driving one's car off the cliffs of Dover. That name "Ostia" speaks of a city made of bone, and I love the images it conjures.
After a strange little thing called "Herald", there is some straight up industrial shit with "Penetralia"*. This one also has a lot of Nine Inch Nails in it, but with some really nice Middle Eastern horns as well. Everything is going great until the song kind of disappears and gets real creepy before it rebuilds itself with even more industrial shit. YEAH!!!! Good stuff.
After this, with "Ravenous", we're taken to an Arab speakeasy...where they kill and eat people...and where there is a tear in reality...through which one can see lights...
Then, the screaming, open-mic fuckrant that is "Circles of Mania". This features John Balance screaming, laughing, discussing "long, hot, wet tongues licking and sucking and licking and sucking and sucking and (muddled licking/sucking/lip smacking noises)" as well as "fucking the holes in the ground" and then the sound of John Balance either pretending to fuck holes in the ground or the sound of John Balance actually fucking holes in the ground...and then laughing about it. This might be a difficult and obscure pull, but on this track, Balance has the quality of the performance artist's (Vulva, played expertly by David Walliams) sidekick from the episode of Spaced entitled "Art". Much like Staircase, this is way too ridiculous to be creepy and I find myself laughing right along with Balance, although whether it's because I find it amusing or because I have lost my fucking mind, I'm not 100% on; someone show me a hole in the ground and maybe we'll find out together... Whatever the case, the cheesy horns on this are awesome and remind me of the cheesy horns on the first Manson album, specifically in "My Monkey".
The next track, "Blood From The Air", could be a demo from The Downward Spiral. It's Nine Inch Nails without the accessibility. You know how listening to The Beatles makes a lot of pop less impressive and original? Well, this is sort of the same thing with Coil and NIN. It's like NIN took some/a lot of what Coil did and added melody, song structure, hooks, etc., then subtracted the insanity, the ranting and the abundance of songs lasting more than ten minutes and then got lauded as innovators in the field because of it. Hm.
Next up, a Leonard Cohen cover.

Then, "The Golden Section", which features what sounds like an entry from some holy and unwritten encyclopedia on Azrael, the Angel of Death, and his various manifestations to the dying; in the background, an angelic anthem, echoing around some great pantheon.

Finally, "The First Five Minutes After Death"; the album that began with a dramatic and swooping romp about an anal staircase ends with a ritual. Aside from sounding reminiscent of something from Nine Inch Nails' Ghosts I-IV, this also sounds a lot more like the Coil to which I'm afraid to listen in the dark, a very strong and solemn ending.

Something very interesting occurred to me while listening to Rotorvator: of all the bands that Reznor usually cites along with Coil as his influences (Front 242, Ministry, Skinny Puppy and the like), Coil is really the only one I've enjoyed. I find all the others a bit flat and lacking in that special sonic something that Nine Inch Nails brought to the genre of industrial. I think it's the unique and sometimes frightening sound that Coil has, that sense of menace and impending doom inherent in their music that Reznor was able to harness and transpose and combine with the ragged, buzzsaw guitars and cold, chittering drum machines of these other industrial acts that caused Nine Inch Nails to stand out so far from the rest of the genre.

Anyway, while not all great or memorable, Horse Rotorvator has been quite a journey, and I look forward to taking another step, not on the Anal Staircase, but rather, towards my goal, next week.

Thanks for stopping by.

Please, please, wipe your feet.

* Much like "Ostia", a very evocative name for a place I'd prefer never to visit.

Digression: check! Obscenity: check!

Last night, I masticated Dan Delgado for my upcoming podcast, digressive_obscenity, and it went EVERYWHERE.
And, not only that, but it went EVERYWHERE FOREVER.
By the end, my ProTools was hemorrhaging HW buffer clocks and RF data blips like...something that does that.
We clocked in at about two and half hours.
HOT.

Here are three topics we discussed:

1. Hand-crafting boxes in which people can grow lettuce
2. The movie A Serbian Film (considered as bad or worse that the Human Centipede films)
3. Collecting teapots

Also, I know I've only had four people on thus far, but Dan's Zombie Apocalypse Escape/Survival Plan was SO detailed...

I think I've decided how I'm going to release these, as sitting down at a set time every week with someone and then editing and releasing them on a set schedule doesn't really work for me; I'm going to try doing this in waves.
Once I have ten edited episodes ready to go, I'll release that wave, one episode at a time every week until I'm out.
Then, more people, more episodes, more waves, etc.
So far, this has been a lot of fun, and now that I have my free time back, I can focus on this thing for a while.
Such good.

This week has been a bear with a gun, and I'm ready for its end.

A review of Coil's "A Thousand Lights In A Darkened Room"

Since the promise and eventual acquisition of a handful of "lost" Nine Inch Nails remixes created by Danny Hyde over on the Echoing The Sound discussion boards*, I've decided to go back and actually listen to some of Coil's twisted, terrifying and, at times, incomprehensible and unlistenable discography. Luckily, there was a time (probably about six minutes or so after I heard Trent Reznor talk about how amazing they were and how much they inspired and impacted his own sound) when I downloaded their entire catalogue, and it was still right where I left it, gathering whatever the equivalent of dust is for mp3s.

I had no idea where to start, so I went with something titled "Black Light District". After doing some digging**, I learned that "Black Light District" is one of the dozen or so aliases the band had used over its twenty year career, and that the album by BLD is actually called A Thousand Lights In A Darkened Room.
Anyway, I've decided to listen to one Coil album a week, in no particular order, and report back on how it is.

First things first, this album could also have been alternately titled Music By Which Serial Killers Murder Scarecrows In A Dead City To. A lot of this isn't, technically, music, more...horrors. If more horror movie composers tried for this kind of sound, "horror movies" would become "screaming nightmare kill movies". I listened to this while going through my daily commute and my usual jaunts around the city...and it made everything hyper-terrifying...in broad daylight. One should never listen to this at night. I had it playing during the snowstorm on Wednesday, and it turned the winter wonderland that is New York City under a fresh coat of snow into a broken graveyard under which every puffy groundcloud of white lurked a rotting, sentient, starving corpse. COIL DID THIS.
While I originally thought that it would have been awesome to see these guys collaborate with a more melodic, song-based artist, I have since changed my mind; these things that they have created exist on their own and they are perfect in that way (plus, their extensive remix catalogue is a pretty fair example of what that original wish would have sounded like...hint: it sounds like an awesome nightmare). Everything sounds ritualistic, the songs, their titles, the sounds in their songs...
The first time I actually felt afraid while listening to ATLDR was during the third track, "Die Wölfe Kemmen Zurück", which consists chiefly of a droning noise punctuated by some repeated metallic clanking...for ten and a half minutes. FUCK YOU! YOU HAVE TO HEAR IT BEFORE YOU JUDGE ME INSANE! Look, I'll put it this way: have you ever had a scary dream? A scary dream that was so intense and terrible that it actually scared you awake? Now, have you ever tried relating said scary dream to someone, only to find them shaking their head and saying, "I don't get it"? That is what's taking place here. So, I say again, FUCK YOU! YOU HAVE TO HEAR IT BEFORE YOU JUDGE ME INSANE!
It isn't until the fourth track, "Refusal Of Leave To Land", when we finally hear John Balance's voice, and it is just as unpleasant as the sounds surrounding it; creaking and sharp with reverb, almost reptilian, it is a perfect compliment to the "instrumentation" in which it's swaddled. This is also the first track to have any real melody to speak of; some isolated, haunting notes, played backwards on a keyboard, sinking in a mire of noise.
"Stoned Circular II" also has something like melody, although it's more like...repeated sounds that form a phrase that falls somewhere on the musical scale...? Fuck it, whatever, there's a bass guitar in it, okay?
"Green Water" was recorded in a swamp. In R'lyeh***. And it goes clammy, glabrous tentacle in clammy, glabrous tentacle with "Cold Dream Of An Earth Star". I literally shudder to think of what is having such dreams as these...
Then, out of nowhere, a solid, straightforward (if slightly creepy) electronic track called "Blue Rats"...which is, naturally, followed by a minute of jarring, oscillating noise called "Scratches and Dust", before the final track, "Chalice", begins.
"Chalice" is beautiful like a flower arrangement at a child's funeral.
P.S. The child killed itself.
P.P.S. Because it listened to this album.

And that, reader, is Coil's A Thousand Lights In A Darkened Room.
I don't know where you can find it or if it actually exists outside of my mind, but, hey, if it doesn't, then I'm certainly in for quite the time.
I'll be back next week, unless I've eaten my own face to death.









* I'll get into this and my first exposure to Coil during this month's Bitchfest.

** Read: "typing 'coil black light district wiki' into Google"

*** YOU FUCKING PROVE ME WRONG, ASSHOLE.

My Thoughts On The Soundtrack For "The Man With The Iron Fists"

As a personal favor to William Pomerantz and as I have lost the funding for my feature-length documentary on Shock G/Humpty Dumpty, I have taken a listen to the soundtrack for The Man With The Iron Fists, and here are my musings:

First off, I've been listening to the Wu-Tang Clan since 1993 and I've followed them closely ever since...then, once ODB died, I sort of lost interest as the Wu-Tang Clan, in my eyes, did not exist anymore.
I've paid attention to some of their solo efforts, mostly Method Man's and RZA's and, to a lesser extent, the GZA's, Raekwon's and Ghostface Killah's. While most of them have had some pretty solid rap albums with a lot of the Wu-Tang guesting on their stuff, no one's career has been as interesting to watch unfold as much as Robert Diggs AKA the RZA aka Bobby Digital AKA about four hundred other aliases he's shed like snake skins over the years. Rather than just continue making albums and occasionally producing something, he's matured into something I've never seen before in the hip hop and rap industry; he brings something new and exciting to every release he works on, from Ghost Dog to Kill Bill and, most recently, to The Man With The Iron Fists, a film for which he not only did the soundtrack, but which he also directed, co-wrote and stars in.
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.

On to the music...

The stand out tracks for me include the opener (of course) which sets the Black Keys opposite some wonderful hyperbolic rapping from the RZA. It has an excellent beat, as most every RZA song does, but it's marred horribly by the RZA's last line. After a litany of how badass he is ("I look the Grim Reaper in the eye", "I spit in a crocodile's eye", "I tell a great white shark to brush its teeth" etc.), he finishes with "I date rape Beauty right in front of the Beast". Wow. Really? Call me soft or whatever you want, but rape really isn't funny and this line not only goes against the playful vibe of the song, it really ruins the whole thing for me. Seriously, after twenty years in the rap game and you're making light of date rape?
Sadly, there are quite a few instances of really disgusting treatment of women on this album, like "White Dress" and "Get Your Way". I don't know...maybe I've grown up since my days of enjoying rap or maybe rappers have gotten even more horrible with regards to objectifying women in their music, but, man, some of this is just awful.
Anyway, despite that poor lyrical choice up front, there are a few other great tracks on here, such as "Rivers of Blood", an amazing Wu-Tang showcase, "Built For This", "Just Blowin' In The Wind", and "Six Directions Of Boxing", which has one of the best GZA verses I've heard in a while. The thing that always set the Wu-Tang Clan and its members apart from a lot of other rappers for me was how distinct each of their voices were, specifically Ol' Dirty Bastard's and GZA's. No one could ever mistake them for anyone else.
The rest of the album is made up of some pretty functional rap tracks ("Tick, Tock", "The Archer", "I Go Hard"), some R&B (which I have never been a fan of), a 70's funk beat with some Chinese singing done over it and some other stuff I couldn't really get into.

Quite frankly, I'd have loved to see RZA branch out more with his collaborations, because, while there is some great rap on here, it's just rap. I'm not talking about Trent Reznor and RZA*, but maybe more stuff like the track with the Black Keys...minus the rape, of course.
Anyway, whether RZA takes my advice or not, I'm sure of two things: first, that the Wu-Tang Clan, however diminished it might be in the year 2012, still ain't nuthin' ta f' wit and, second, whatever RZA does do next is going to be great and sound timeless and innovative, all at the same time.
I am fully planning to see The Man With The Iron Fists  as soon as I get the chance.










* You thought it, I'll say it: Trent RZAnor

First Impressions of How to destroy angels_, "An omen EP_"

This may be all I say on the subject as I'm boring myself with all this hype...which would totally make you cry a lot, right?

Keep it together
Pretty much forgotten once I realized there are five more tracks behind it. I suppose it's a nice, not-really-groundbreaking start to lull one into a false sense of disappointment? Hm. That's a bit harsh. There are some very cool sounds here, but it's just not as dynamic as I would have liked. Me. So, come on guys, did you not get my fax of "The Ways I Would Like Your EP To Be Dynamic"? Sheesh. Moving on...

Ice age
Wow. "Ice age" actually shocked me, it's so wildly different from what I was expecting. It's so bright and warm and almost Bluegrass! Musically, at least; the lyrics are quite a bit darker. I like where this starts and I like where it ends. This might be the best track on the EP.

On the wing
Something about this kept reminding me of a Depeche Mode song. I very much like the vocal interplay and Reznor's gentleness. Another very solid track that does pretty much everything right. I also dig the piano.

The sleep of reason produces monsters
This starts off with a crisp and clear sound not usually associated with (the seven other songs by) HTDA. Then it loses itself amid an ocean of electronics. The droning voices aren't great, but they seem to work. For me, this is the weakest track on the EP.

The loop closes
This utilizes the same sort of programming (plinking, staccato, almost random arrangement of sounds made into a pattern) as "Ice age" but isn't nearly as fresh or well implemented this time around; although it's different enough to still work well. The vocals, while sung with conviction, are kind of awful ("the beginning is the end and keeps coming around again!" Yow.). Some really great layers here though.

Speaking in tongues
And then we reach the final track...which uses the same programming as "Ice age" and the song that just ended. The feel of this one is much better though, and the lyrics are prophetic and apocalyptic and perfectly match the mood. However, they employ the same distorted noise from their first EP and this is a bit of a problem for me. If they had used a guitar effect or synth voice or whatever, that might be different, but this noise is so distinct that it's actually a bit distracting and takes something away from the evolution of their sound; as in "they've had all this time and they're still using the same, exact sound?" etc. Despite this, this is a great closer to a really solid release.

So, here's what I'm taking away from my first listen: Yes, they have definitely evolved and grown, just as Reznor said, which is always exciting, but, by using the same programming device in three tracks on a six track EP, they've sown some doubts in me with regards to their upcoming LP...coming in early 2015.
I mean 2013.
Totally early though.
Like...February.
Or maybe March.
Or MAYBE April.
Maybe.

Seriously though, the whole thing does sound really great and, as not all of these tracks will actually appear on that full length album  (everything except "The sleep of reason produces monsters" and "The loop closes", I believe), my concerns might be unfounded.
Once again, this was only my first listen and, guess what, I plan on listening to this...I don't know...maybe a few more times?
Like...four.
Or five.
...
THOUSAND.

You can hear "An omen EP_" streaming in its entirety here.

"I MADE HIM SNEEZE."

I'm not an unfriendly person, but, as far as my auditioning, I'm not overly gregarious.
In fact, I kind of hate that schmoozy bullshit that, people keep insisting, is all a necessary part of the business.
What this means is that, if someone talks to me in an audition, I'll talk to them; I won't schmooze or shill or anything like that, I'll talk to them. If some random guy who I'm in direct competition with starts talking to, seemingly, no one and listing how great he's doing and all the stuff he's booking and blah blah blah, trying, poorly, to psyche the other auditioners, I'll quietly roll my eyes and trash him here or write a script and trash him there.
All this to say that I don't talk a whole lot at auditions.
So.
Today, I had an audition at a place I'm more than familiar with and where I have booked a handful of pretty nice jobs. I've also gotten to know the guy that runs the place (Roger) and we have a genuine rapport (as opposed to that typical bullshit everyone always says at every audition...or at least I think I do, he might just be really good at making folks think so*). At the end of the audition, which went all right, I guess, Roger sneezed as I opened the door to the waiting room. There was a little silence, and, as I was heading to my seat to collect my headphones and coat, I suddenly yelled at the room full of guys waiting to audition: "I MADE HIM SNEEZE. I DID. AND IF ANY OF YOU WANT THIS JOB YOU'D FUCKING BETTER MAKE HIM SNEEZE TOO. WHAT?"
Then I left.
It felt pretty great.

Have a good night.











* I have always been...and shall remain, a boiling cauldron of equal parts explosive self-confidence and soul-parching insecurity...behold...an actor!

I Am An Idiot

After too little sleep last nighty and a full day today (booking from 10 to 1, then an audition from 1:30 to 2, then awful, awful work), I have made a very poor life choice.
As I left my booking this morning, I found that Hannah from TransPerfect had sent me a script that needed to be recorded by tomorrow at 6 pm. It's about 6000 words on about 30 pages and is estimated at about three hours of work (word count plus something equals about how long it should take me). The rate would be exactly one tenth of what I had made earlier that morning for the exact same amount of time.
So, I called Hannah, who is totally awesome and sweet and said that, for this amount of job, there's no way I could take what they were offering. She said she totally understood and was able to free up more money for me.
Because I really do love TransPerfect and the folks that work there, as well as the fact that these aren't auditions, these are people asking for me and then paying me, I agreed to do it.
Later on, I read the script.

I am a stupid, stupid idiot.
The script is an eLearning module about Dell's Cloud.
Everything. About. Dell's. Cloud.
The words...they're all words I know, but I've never used half of them and certainly not in the same sentence as each other.
When the fuck am I ever going to say the words "infrastructure" or "virtualization" or "Rationalization/Modernization and Application Migration" (although that last one has a horrid musicality to it)?
Well, I will tonight.
From about midnight until whenever this load of industry jargon fuckwash is finished.
Good thing the ground isn't covered by slush and the pipes aren't knocking in my apartment, causing the kind of background noise that will knock me out of my groove which is going to be incrdibly hard to find with a script this fucky.
Oh, fuck, I'm an idiot.

When (if?) I finish this load of blibber, I might post some, just so you can hear how fucking awesome and professional I am.
Because, no mater HOW much this will kill me (and, friends, it will kill me), in the end, you will think, not only, that I know what in the fuck I'm talking about, but that I'm totally engrossed and entertained by it.

In conclusion.
Fuck.
I'm fucked.

Target Aquired...Me. Target Acquired Me To Do Some Radio Commercials.

WHAT AREN'T YOU GETTING?
GAWD!
But, yes, I am excited to say I'm not just making this up and even more excited to inform you that one of the scripts I'll be recording is about bacon.
Bacon: The Food of Joy.
And it is delightfully, sexily over the top, a state in which I reside, at all times, hence my oft overused hyperbole.
Is there a regular, non-hyper bole?
I'm going to check...

Hm.
According to dictionary.com it's the stem or trunk of a tree.
Hm.

Well, that makes absolutely no fucking sense...
Assholes.

Anyway, yeah, one's about bacon, and one is about popcorn chicken and the third is about tomatoes...but I haven't read that one yet.
I'll do that now!!!

Okay, the tomato one is pretty funny too.
And ALL THIS came from my superhot home studio set up.
WOO!
That's on Wednesday, and, tomorrow, I have an audition for audible.com which sounds kind of bland, but, perhaps I can bring some sizzle.
Because that...is what I do...bring sizzle.
Would you like some sizzle?
:::call me:::

In other news, Hurricane Sandy did nothing to affect me.
Nothing.
It's getting to the point where I am starting to feel guilty about telling people this because so many have been totally fucked by this thing.
But, yeah, nothing.
We had some rain.
And my pizza place wasn't delivering.

Skipping the rest of that; the Halloween party was a success, even though about a quarter to a third of the people there were either friends of friends or friends of friends of friends.
All good people all having good fun.

Special shout out to Fitzy for opening and then pretty much closing the festivities despite knowing a total of two people at the whole thing.
And also for letting me call her "Fitzy".
Say it alud, it's awesome!*
FITZYYY!!!!
Love it.

Jen and I are still carving our way through the zombie (and J'Avo) hoards in Resident Evil 6. We're two final chapters (Leon/Helena's and Jake/Sherry's) away from the "end"**. All in all, I think hearing all that negative shit about the game before I played it helped me to get over it, that, and the fact that a lot of it was just whining about nothing. I will say that split screen is balls for someone with eye problems and the plethora of insta-kill moments get real old, real quick, but, other than those shitty patches, the game has been great, and the complaint that they "tried to put too much into this game" is fucking stupid.
VIDEOS GAMES SHOULD BE A LONG TERM INVESTMENT AS FAR AS ENTERTAINMENT GOES.
That's like complaining about having TOO MANY ORGASMS during intercourse.
Idiots.
So, hopefully, in the near future, Jen and I will wrap this up and find out what in the blue fuck is going on.

But not next Sunday...because I'm seeing the new Bond movie.
And, the day before THAT, I'll be five feet from my apartment, seeing Eugene Mirman and some comics who aren't Eugene Mirman at P.S. 1.

Feeling rambly.
Would like to go home now.

I should have Resident Evil: Damnation waiting for me.
If it is anything like Resident Evil: Regeneration...well, it's going to be unworthy of comment.
Then, once that is out of my house, I shall start getting Community, as everyone in the world has seen it and loves it and shut up I'm going to fucking watch it.

Chris and I recently watched Young Adult, which was...all right, I suppose. Both Charles Thorn and Patton Oswalt did a great job with what they were given, but they weren't given a whole bunch.
The plot focuses around a chick who had a thing with a dude in high school, but as soon as she sees that he's had a kid and is happy with his wife she goes back and tries to "free" him from the relationship.
Has this actually happened to people?
Who would do that?
Then again, who would do space docking?
Enough people that it has a name, so, moving on.

The ignorant wangbanger that has STILL remained here at the Hospital like a tiny clot of feces stuck in one's ass hair is always talking about martial arts.
All the time.
Like he is a master of the arts or something.
He's a fubsy, 50-something, bald Latino guy.
I'd like to hire a ninja to come and kick his ass so I can hear him talk about how exquisite his style was when he inevitably calls his moron, subhuman friend to talk about it.
Ugh.
These guys are so ratty. The way they talk and relate to the world and their voices and the stuff they talk about...just...ugh.
Dog farts.
Those guys are dog farts.
And the one dude's voice sounds like a Yoda made of scabs.
Like, imagine if Yoda was slightly retarded and had a thicker, rougher voice.
This assbag sounds like that.
And every thirty seconds he snorts snot back up his nose rather than blowing it like a human.
Ugh.
The fact that I haven't burned these bastards to death speaks volumes about just how tolerant and loving I am.
But that fact that I think and talk about doing so so often probably does not.

Oh! That's something the fucking hurricane did! I was going to hang with Phil and get him on my fucking podcast b ut shit got so fucked up that it never happened.
Fuckballs.
What a bitch.
Sandy, not Phil.
Phil is eyes deep in editing hell and it's all his fault. Three books in three months...what kind of psycho enters into that Devil's Pact?!
LUDICROUS!!!
MAD LUDICROUSNESS!!!

All right.
It's 10:45.
Fuck off.









*But you MUST say it like a jocular uncle opening his arms to hug a well-loved nephew he hasn't seen for years.

**The fourth and final campaign...Ada Wong's.