End of the Month Music Bitchfest - March 2012

COURTNEY LOVE ON HER PERIOD

Beck
I’m…I’m sorry…what? A new what? A new…Beck song?!
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Yes.
March 20^th, Beck released “Looking For A Sign”, a song recorded for the soundtrack for the new comedy Jeff, Who Lives At Home.
It’s an okay song, feels a bit Mutations, a bit Sea Change.
Nothing to get too excited about, sadly.
But, hey, at least he isn’t dead.
Unless he died and his label released this song posthumously.
Which would be awful.

Cake
Cake released a pretty half-assed video for one of my favorite songs off their latest album. It's 95% fans lip syncing to the song and maybe 5% flickered clips of the band smiling at how clever they are when it comes to music videos that A. don't cost them anything, B. are eco-friendly and C. make them look clever.
Guys, it was pretty novel in 2001, when you did something singular and wacky and non-formulaic for the "Short Skirt, Long Jacket" video, but some time has passed and you're not going to reinvent the medium so HURRY UP AND MAKE A NEW GOD DAMN ALBUM YOU LAZY HIPPY CUNTRAGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

They Might Be Giants
Finishing up their Join Us tour with an amazing show at Terminal 5, They Might Be Giants have certainly earned a rest…which they have declined to take.
Between now and early 2013, the band will release THREE brand new EP’s (two adult and one for kids) and a brand new album (expected early 2013).
THAT is what I’m talking about.
Looking forward to periodic updates from TMBG regarding there “working vacation” and the sporadic perks from becoming a Super President member of this year’s They Might Be Giants Instant Fan Club.
To read said review of said TMBG show, scroll down said.

Nine Inch Nails
So...I guess...maybe Reznor forgot about the new How To Destroy Angels album...?

On March 7^th, Los Angeles’ KROQ played the first single off the new (totally real and actually coming out) album by
Marilyn Manson.
The song is called “No Reflection” and it made, literally, no impression on me.
You ever have that happen?
It’s like you find yourself at the bottom of a page but without being able to remember actually having read it?
This song is like that, but, rather than being distracted and not absorbing the information, as with a book, this was just so…not mentionable.

I gave it a few more tries to see if there was something making it disappear from my mind, but, nope, it’s just not strong enough to leave any sort of impression.
Although, I did, eventually figure out that the chorus sounds almost exactly like the chorus from another forgettable Marilyn Manson song from the equally forgettable “High End Of Low” album, namely “Leave A Scar”.
I would say you should listen to the choruses of both just to see what I mean, but that wouldn’t do anyone any good and you’d have listened to two bad Marilyn Manson songs, so please don’t.
I just hope that “No Reflection” wasn’t the song early reviewers were calling "super catchy… could do the K-ROQ rounds", because, if so, this is going to be yet another squirty fart from Manson’s shitty ass.

On March 23^rd, Manson posted the cover art and track listing for his new “effort”.
I’m not even going to bother posting this ridiculous bunch of song titles because you’ll think I just made them up.
I will, however, make an official declaration: the new Marilyn Manson album will be awful.
Not as awful as “Eat Me, Drink Me”, but perhaps as awful or more awful than “The High End Of Low”.
I’m not just basing this on one song and the track list…here’s a quote from Manson regarding his new album: 

“It's the first record where I repeat verses. I just sing the words in a different key the next time. I've never done that before, because I've always felt like I needed to write a lot of words in the past …”

Wait…what? No, that’s not how it works. What “key”? What “sing”? You haven’t “sung” in “key” since…ever. You lack that ability.
You have different sounds you’re able to make, mostly pertaining to volume and pitch, but you can’t sing, Marilyn…
You can whisper, growl, scream, croak, bark, yell, husk, howl, screech and squeak…but not sing…
*sigh*
Does ANYONE have this guy’s phone number?
I think we need to talk.

Garbage dropped their first single, “Blood For Poppies”, on the 20^th as a free download from their site, www.garbage.com.
And it is VERY…poppy!
BWA HA HAHA HA H AH AH AH AHA HA HA HAHH AH A!!!!!!
No, it’s not that great.
It’s a little too radio friendly (just listen to the bright, shimmery chorus to understand what I mean) and doesn’t stack up to
the majority of their singles they’ve released over the years.
It just doesn’t have that edge usually associated with their music
The band can still play, but nothing about the track really grabbed me.
I’m not judging the book by the cover though as Butch Vig is a god and Shirley Manson is a goddess.
The video for "Blood For Poppies" comes out April 3rd.

At the end of March, the band released their first UK single, "Battle In Me".
Now this, THIS sounds like classic Garbage, but with some modern studio tweaks.
Good stuff.

 
Meanwhile, the E-starved twink buried deep within me (helllooo) had an urge to hear the new Madonna album.
I heard that single and, as much as it made me want to destroy my radio and every device capable of broadcasting said single in a ten miles radius, it was catchy as all get out.
So I listened to the new Madonna album, MDNA, which I thought might have something to do with genetics, but apparently not.

Listening to the new Madonna album can be equated to eating a huge bag of Jolly Ranchers and glitter, then vomiting, then listening to said sparkling, rainbow-colored effluvia while in a club. Her lyrics here reflect nothing of her 12,000 years of pop queendom. In fact, if Britney Spears had recorded and released this album ten years ago, it might have been ground-breaking, but in Madonna’s case…it’s almost like she recalls nothing of her career, it’s like she’s starting over; not in a good or fresh way, on the contrary, it sounds laughably naïve.

This album has depth like a mosquito bite: you scratch it, it feels good in a bad way, then it gets infected and scabby. There are one or two interesting moments on here (“Falling Free” and “I Fucked Up”) and you can not deny the contagious (like the Motaba virus) nature of “Give Me All Your Loving” (I’ll not rape the English language on your behalf, you craggy bint), but I couldn’t help feeling a sense of annoyance while listening to this, as if I were be put upon somehow.

At the end of one of the two songs that grunty, spazzy rapper Nicki Minaj guest stars on, she informs the listener that “there is only one queen” and that “it’s Madonna…bitch.” That last word is almost spat between her gritted teeth, not
sounding emphatic here, like a statement of fact,…only desperate, as if saying it loudly and angrily enough will make it
so…but it won’t. And neither will removing letters from your name.

And, finally, Damon Albarn's latest side project (with Flea and Tony Allen), "Rocket Juice and The Moon", came out on
March 27th.
Okay...maybe I don't like funk, but this whole thing really feels kind of flat.
There are familiar faces from some Gorillaz album guesting on vocal, as well as one or two tracks with Albarn singing (and
every time I hear his voice I picture 2D), but overall nothing is really standing out here.
I'm blaming myself more than the artists involved.
I just don't like Damon Albarn doing funk.
Probably wouldn't like Nine Inch nails doing country either.
I wish this had been something I dug, but, whatever, it's a side project.
Next up: some new Gorillaz.

As it turns out, I haven't been obsessively overlistening to anything this month.
Maybe the medication is working...

A review of They Might Be Giants at Terminal 5, March 10th, 2012

Better late than shut the fuck up and read my review.

Saturday, March 10th marked the end of They Might Be Gants' Join Us tour and their last (real) show until December 2012, and they made it count as such.

Although I and the lovely Christina arrived three hours before doors to attain the best possible placement at Terminal 5, we were among about twenty fifth and sixth in line, respectively.

It was at that point I realized that I'm not as obsessed with They might Be giants as some people think I am...Will.

I also realized that a lot of these people really creep me out and, afterwards, Chris and I had a long discussion about these aspects.

But I won't bore you.

Eventually, we were joined by the Ultimate Tag Team: Jim Potenza and Jen Chua.

We had as good a time one can have in 40 degree weather and, eventually, were allowed in.

Jim and Jen were sent to the rooftop holding area, while Chris and I waited to obtain my special TMBG Instant Fan Club tickets to the show.

Because of a ridiculous lack of communication between the band's people and the venue (with more blame focused on the venue since I've seen this kind of thing work smoother at Madison Square Garden and Terminal 5 is NOT Madison Square Garden) the IFC members were asked to go BACK outside until our names appeared on a list.

While waiting to die slowly of exposure, Sylvia and Bryan showed up and, after a moment of discussion, went inside...the lucky ass bags.

About ten minutes before the normal people were allowed in, the IFC folks got their tickets, special goodie bags (a half-assed t-shirt "designed" by the band's current favorite minimalist graphic designer, Paul Sahre-- think heavily-outlined, day-glo objects placed on a white background and you've got this guy's "style" down pat, MORE window decals and a hand drawn "Certificate of Thanks" for being a member, signed by both Johns, obviously the winner of the bunch) and entrance to the venue.

I am happy to report that we were dead center, on the rail, my favorite place to be at a They Might Be Giants concert.

There was much waiting to be done, but, at some point, Jonathan Coulton hit the stage.

His set was, for the most part, enjoyable and his band totally brought it, playing "Code Monkey", "Still Alive (not as good without GladOS), "Re: Your Brains" and "I Feel Fantastic" as well as "Now I Am An Arsonist" with Suzanne Vega (1).

After a relatively quick set change, TMBG took the stage, opening with "Birdhouse In Your Soul", one of their standards that has yet to get old (for me, at least. Flans once commented in an interview that "if you severed the band members' heads from their bodies, we would still be able to play "Birdhouse"...we're saving that for our final show").

I'm happy to say that I pogoed for the majority of the song, much to the annoyance of the tiny girl to my right, but, seriously, fuck her, if this had been a Nine Inch Nails concert she would have been sliced open and served like smoked salmon where she was.

Then, "Cowtown", the first song Flansburgh and Linnell wrote together, another treat.

Other highlights included a new rendition of "Particle Man" which I'd never heard before and enjoyed immensely (I always marvel at the ways TMBG finds to keep these songs they've been playing for decades sounding fresh), "Snowball In Hell" (which featured an excellent spoken segment performed by the Avatars of They), "Ana Ng", "Don't Let's Start" (always a pleasure), "New York City" (I've probably seen them perform this song fifty times, but not for a few years and it always makes me happy to hear it), "When Will You Die?" (a new song that I hope grows into a live staple...did I already say that?) and just John and John (with an accordion) singing "How Can I Sing Like A Girl?".

Only two flaws on an otherwise perfect gem of an evening were fucking goddamn "Damn Good Times" and the starting-to-get-old show closer "Istanbul (Not Constantinople)".

I can think of, literally forty other TMBG songs I'd rather have in place of the former and about a dozen closers to replace the latter.

I also want them to start doing Factory Showroom shows and John Henry shows...with a FULL horn section, not just Mark "Smugman" Pender.

Anyway, yeah, amazing show; miles better than their lackluster 30th anniversary show back in January.

They're taking a working break as far as touring until December when they plan to do some "holiday shows", so I guess I'll be there, and they have a new album they are currently working on slated for an early 2013 release.

Once again, They Might Be Giants have delivered on the live front, no questions asked.

A Mini-Review of Madonna's "MDNA"

So, the E-starved twink buried deep within me (helllooo) had an urge to hear the new Madonna album.

I heard that single and, as much as it made me want to destroy my radio and every device capable of broadcasting said single in a ten miles radius, it was catchy as all get out.

So I listened to the new Madonna album, MDNA, which I thought might have something to do with genetics, but apparently not.

Listening to the new Madonna album can be equated to eating a huge bag of Jolly Ranchers and glitter, then vomiting, then listening to said sparkling, rainbow-colored effluvia while in a club. Her lyrics here reflect nothing of her 12,000 years of pop queendom. In fact, if Britney Spears had recorded and released this album ten years ago, it might have been ground-breaking, but in Madonna’s case…it’s almost like she recalls nothing of her career, it’s like she’s starting over; not in a good or fresh way, on the contrary, it sounds laughably naïve.

This album has depth like a mosquito bite: you scratch it, it feels good in a bad way, then it gets infected and scabby. There are one or two interesting moments on here (“Falling Free” and “I Fucked Up”) and you can not deny the contagious (like the Motaba virus) nature of “Give Me All Your Loving” (I’ll not rape the English language on your behalf, you craggy bint), but I couldn’t help feeling a sense of annoyance while listening to this, as if I were be put upon somehow.

At the end of one of the two songs that grunty, spazzy rapper Nicki Minaj guest stars on, she informs the listener that “there is only one queen” and that “it’s Madonna…bitch.” That last word is almost spat between her gritted teeth, not sounding emphatic here, like a statement of fact,…only desperate, as if saying it loudly and angrily enough will make it so…but it won’t. And neither will removing letters from your name.

End Of The Month Music Bitchfest - February 2012

BITCH NACHOS.

Nine Inch Nails
On February 11^th, How To Destroy Angels finished mixing their new, full length album.
So…there’s that.

Beck
Mr. Hansen will be performing at the Governor’s Ball this June.
He also “worked on” designing some Oliver Peoples sunglasses which you can buy for just $595.
At this point, I’d hand him the money personally just so I can punch him in the dick.
Fuck your sunglasses, DESIGN SOME FUCKING MUSIC.

On February 23^rd, Gorillaz released a new track called “Do Ya Thing”, featuring Andre 3000 of Outkast and James Murphy of the
recently defunct LCD Soundsystem.
It’s free on www.converse.com and it’s fucking awesome.
One of the best verses from Andre 3000 since The Love Below; lots of energy.
Catchy, ass-shakin’ beats and happy, blippy keys make this an excellent Gorillaz track; hopefully indicative of a new album, but, one can never nail down Gorillaz.
Like I said before: Damon Albarn just loves to have fun and do stuff.
And this track is both: fun and stuff.
Go and get it.
And then there’s the video which dropped just yesterday.
In it, literally nothing happens.
It’s amazing.
You can also find that on converse.com.

Also, in less than a month, Damon Albarn’s NEW side project with Flea and Tony Allen, Rocketjuice and The Moon, will be released.
Very much looking forward to that as well.

And…oh my goodness gracious…
Marilyn Manson posted on his journal about a week ago that he is just beginning his new world tour…he’s calling it…the “Hey Cruel
World…Tour”.
One more time: the "Hey Cruel World…Tour”.
Ladies and gentlemen, Marilyn Manson is now a pubescent girl.
Also, I found some more details about his album, “Born Villain”, which, based on his tour schedule, will have to be out in the U.S. by
the end of April, or else he’ll be performing songs that no one has ever heard.
Mostly, just the names of some songs.
By the way, the names of these songs don’t make me feel better about this album.
Book by its cover and all that, but, as we all know, it’s a cruel world…tour.

• Overneath (The Path of Misery)
• No Reflection
• S-Low Mo-Ti-on

Let me be clear: my hopes are not up, especially since the first title sounds like the over-angsty reflections of a mascara-slathered faux
cutter, the second like a reject from some shitty vampire show…which it is, and the third like some awful “surrealist” spoken word that
Manson wrote while “inspired” by the tooth-rotting excess of absinthe he imbibes each day.
Or, more likely, based on the majority of his last two albums, three songs that sounds so much alike he might as well not have bothered
to give them individual titles.
So, no, my hopes are not up, they are buried in a time capsule with “Portrait of An America Family” and “Antichrist Superstar”, and
THAT is why I’m going to listen to this album at least once.
Maybe.
Some random web site claims that the new (and, again, TOTALLY REAL) Marilyn Manson album will be released on May 1^st.

Garbage posted a video with a snippet of their first single, “I Hate Love”.
On Valentine’s Day.
How very rock and roll.
Hopefully, this was just the chorus, as it sounds kind of…repetitive.
Can’t really tell anything at all about the album based on said snippet, but at least this is proof that there actually is an album
Marilyn, I’m looking at you…
The band shot a video for “I Hate Love” which should be out soon.

During the month of February, I’ve found myself listening to a few songs over and over.
I have listed them here and might continue to do so.

St. Vincent – Your Lips Are Red
From her first album, “Marry Me”. I dismissed most of this album, but there are a few really solid tracks. Landmines, Paris Is Burning,
The Apocalypse Song and this one among them. There’s a barely restrained fury in the first half of this song that makes one afraid of
this 95 pound waif, it’s just terrifying; a great juxtaposition with the last half.
Really wish I hadn’t hesitated in buying tickets to see her at Webster Hall. A mistake I do not intend to make again.

Clams Casino – Waterfalls
Not a TLC cover. This is third and most amazing track from Clams Casino’s “Rainforest” EP. The whole EP is pretty amazing and has a monstrous, enveloping feel to it. Also, each song is just the right length. This is electronic music and artists in that genre tend to…ramble. But I don’t think there’s a song longer than four minutes on this EP. This track is what I want the new Nine Inch Nails to sound like. It won’t happen, but that should give you some indication as to how much I enjoyed it. Another way to describe the music on this release: This is what cyborg ice vampires listen to while fucking in the rain.

Prick - Other People
From their first (and only good) album in 1995. Four of the tracks, including this one, were produced by Trent Reznor and it shows
clearly on Other People. Very mid-90’s industrial with a few Reznor tweaks that make it stand out (some gentle synth to soften the
driving, pounding beat). There’s the incessant bass/drum pulse through the whole song, exploding briefly for the chorus and getting
turned completely on its head during the electro-synth bridge that sound straight off of “Further Down The Spiral”. Interscope
dropped these guys after their first album didn’t make them enough money so they didn’t make a new one until 2002. It’s called “The
Wreckard” and it’s awful.
It might have been cool to see what lead singer, Kevin McMahon and Reznor could have come up with for a second attempt, but, thems the breaks.

Gorillaz – Do Ya Thing
Can’t stop.
Neither will you.

Cavalcade of Links!!!

Gorillaz’ “Do Ya Thing” music video
www.youtube.com/watch?v=yNeF30RverQ
 
Download “Do Ya Thing” FREE
www.converse.com
 
“Your Lips Are Red” by St. Vincent
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vFrCIVoVj7A

 "Waterfalls" by Clams Casino
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0KIQLbZPdIw

“Other People” by Prick
www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQ1iQrBugD8

UPDATE!!!!
Just today, Gorillaz posted the full, thirteen minute version of Do Ya Thing.
This thing goes EVERYWHERE and everywhere is goes is AMAZING.
www.gorillaz.com

My Trip To L.A.

Some pre-flight ruminations:

In the cab, on the way to the airport, I passed so many shitty, little places (Chinese restaurants, Laundromats, delis etc.) with the grandest names imaginable: Olympic Cleaners, Great King Chinese Food, Excellent Deli and so forth.
At some point, I’d like to open these types of establishments, but name them things like Pretty Good Chinese Food, Not Filthy Cleaners and Won’t Give You Leptospirosis Deli.
There was, or maybe still is, a place in the 80’s on Madison called “Ok Market” and there used to be a deli on 98^th and Madison called “Just Another Deli”.
I dug the truth in advertising.

Ever since college, every flight I took departed from La Guardia, which meant I would pass through Queens and that massive cemetery flanking the road.
Some part of me always felt better for having done it because it was as if, by passing through that graveyard, I’d been exposed to a lot of death and that, for some reason, meant that my plane wouldn’t crash.
Or something.
I’m sure that other, people have reflected on that, probably better than me, but, whatever.
I’m also usually up way too early on the days I travel and am sleepy; so, take that into account as well.

While flying over the galaxy of glittering lights that make up Memphis, Tennessee, I reflect that, every one has its own story and that I could not give a fuck about any of them.

Great thing about airports?
No homeless people.

All right, now to The Account.

From Thursday the 26^th to Monday the 30^th of January, I was in Los Angeles, staying with my good friends, Will and his wife, Diana.

Both legs of my flight went excellently, as I was able to get exit rows on each for my dainty, five foot long legs.
The layover in Memphis went as beautifully as anything can go in an airport: I walked off my plane from New York made a pee pee in the toity, walked up to the friendly, heavily accented lady behind the desk who gave me my new seat, then walked on to the plane.
Seamless as a baby.

I then spent most of the flight watching Moneyball, a movie about things with the framing of baseball.
Much like Black Swan, which was also a movie about things, but framed by ballet, it didn’t win me over to the framing device.
I still don’t give a shit about ballet or baseball (although my interest in celebrity lesbian sex scenes has increased a thousand fold).

Between the two flights, everything went so swimmingly, I ended up arriving in LAX (which stands for Los Angeles Xairport…the ‘x’ is silent…) a half hour early.
But LA traffic did a splendid job of fucking that right up.
Eventually, Will picked me up in his Prius, which is capable of launching small satellites, a feature only granted to graduates of the International Space University.
Which is a real place.
We arrived in his home in Glendale, at which point I freaked out his dog, Sampson (or maybe it’s ‘Samson’, I never actually asked the dog…) by being taller than his master and having longer hair than his mistress.
He barked until I sat down and then we were fast friends.
Soon after, Diana arrived home and we all went to accomplish the first item on my short list of things to do in Los Angeles; namely: eat a Zankou Chicken.
A quick aside: all of my LA goals had been gleamed from movies (The Big Lebowski) and music (Beck’s “Debra”), so don’t be surprised when I don’t make a point of going to the Hollywood sign.

Once we arrived and ate at Zankou Chicken, I had a much better understanding of not just Beck’s “Debra”, but the entire Midnite Vultures album.
Their garlic butter was, however, without equal.

We returned to Will’s and then, around 11 o’clock our time and 2 o’clock Phil’s time decided that Philip had to know, via caterwauled guitar/ukulele song, that there was no water on mars.
So we called him, twice, since we didn’t know if he had maybe already found out and panicked or whatever.
He later told us that he was too busy sleeping to answer his phone.
One thing I will say about Phil…he is a professional grade sleeper.
Then, we slept.
Another quick aside: because of my idiotic sleep schedule here in New York, I was able to play it totally normal in LA, blending in like a ninja in a ninja costume factory.
I, infiltrator.

Friday morning, I awoke to find an e-mail from TransPerfect asking if I could record one final line for my on-going Lenovo voice over session I’ve been recording on my home studio stuff. I informed Emily that I was in LA until the 30^th and if it was possible to get it to her by the 31^st.
She then suggested I record it in their studio in Culvert City.
Less than 12 hours in Los Angeles and already I was booking gigs.
Good. Omen.
I bounced the idea off Will and he agreed.

But, first…I plugged Will’s Beatles Rock Band mic into his Mac in order to make something amazing with Garageband.
Mission accomplished.
Throughout my time there, Will and I (and our supa-produca, Samson…I’m pretty sure it’s Samson…) worked on an original piece inspired by our urgent messages to Phil entitled “Water On Mars”.
Expect it some time Q4, 2013.

Will was able to avoid work for the remainder of Friday and we hit In & Out Burger on our way to Culvert City.
Burger = 8
Shake = 8
Fries = - 6
What…the…fuck…is wrong with their fries?*

After this bipolar lunch, we headed over to Culvert City, but not before Will drove me by the “Times Square of L.A.”.
We passed the tourists and maniacs out in front of Grauman’s Chinese theater and, you know what, I could handle never going there again.
There was something just so…greasy about it…
Anyway, we arrived at the studio, I met Emily, said my line (“Eastern Standard Time”) three times in fourteen seconds, racking up the most money for the smallest amount of work done in my career thus far…and then we left. Back to Will’s to continue work on “Water On Mars” and to await the advent on one Mister Dan Delgado AKA “Blades” Delgado, the notorious highwayman and chemist who was to join us that evening for Jay and Silent Bob Get Old, which records every Friday night at Universal City Walk at the Jon Lovitz Podcast Theater.
He arrived and, after a short discussion involving the September 11^th attack on New York City, hurting animals and a smattering of other awful stuff, we left.
But not before I imbibed a delicious ginger pear cider.
Nummy num!

I was dazzled and disgusted by the garish nature of the place which made the Universal City Walk in Orlando, Florida look like an abandoned monastery.
After sitting down and shocking our heavy-drug using tablemate into silence with a TOTALLY HETERO discussion about jerking each other off in the parking lot in order to relieve tension so as to better focus on the show, Kevin Smith and Jason Mewes took the stage.
Then came a thirty minute monologue about how Kevin Smith’s 14-year old dog, Scully, the lynchpin of his family, is dying and, further, how his inability to deal with it is negatively affecting his marriage.
But it was still funnier than Jersey Girl.
I was praying for Mewes to interject something, anything, but this really wasn’t a back and forth kind of situation.
Eventually, Smith lightened the mood (slightly) with a story of how his daughter’s big tortoise, Snappy, has taken to raping her little tortoise, Snipper, by mounting it and making a high squeeing noise.
Yeah.
Then, Mewes told a story about shitting himself while working with a personal trainer and the results of said shart.
Finally, as they do at the end of every Jay and Bob Get Old, they played a game.
Sometimes it’s Let Us Fuck, where Kevin Smith will call out some geeky sexual position (the Boba Fetish etc.) and you and Mewes have to discuss then demonstrate said position, sometimes it’s Acting With Youse and Mewes (where Smith will direct you and Mewes in a scene from a popular movie) and, a few times, it’s been Do You Remember More About The 90’s Than Jason Mewes? (a very simple trivia game which Mewes almost always loses as he was totally fucked on heroin, oxycontin and crack for most of the 90’s).
This evening it was Do You Know More About the View Askew Movies** Than Jason Mewes?
Smith asked for a player from the audience and people started pointing at their friends and yelling at him to pick them, but, at Dan and Will’s urging, I merely stood up and was consequentially called up on stage.
I shook Smith’s hand and told him it was an honor, then did the same to Mewes, who, upon seeing how tall I was, bent over the table, imitating Snipper, the dominated tortoise.
So I fulfilled my role as Snappy and dry humped Jason Mewes while making a high pitched squeeing sound.
Happy Birthday to me.
We were then instructed, since there were no buzzers, to hit the table in front of us with our hands in order to “buzz in”.
If you’re truly interested in the outcome of this titanic battle, I’ll direct you to the recording of said podcast, which should be up around the end of February on Smodcast.com.
Here’s a hint, I was fucking shocked and worried for the majority of my time on stage.
That junkie knows a lot more about the movies he co-starred in than I had thought…

The three of us then made our way to Roscoe’s Chicken ‘N Waffles (another L.A. food staple) where we were joined by Diana.
I was informed by both Will and Dan that the choice wasn’t to have chicken OR waffles, but whether or not your chicken would be served “smothered”.
It was…unnaturally good.
By which I mean bad.
My only problem was that the chicken wasn’t served ON the waffles.
We had an enlightening conversation about the meaning and state of being “mad dogged” and then we retired for the evening.

Saturday morning, Will, Diana and I met up with a friend from Fordham who I wish I’d gotten to know better during our time there, the ever-salacious Graham Slipper.
We were also joined by his silk-dancing assassin girlfriend, Jordan and his absolute pussy magnet of a dog, Mustafa.
Graham has suggested a pleasant little place called Home which provided me with yet another amazing meal.
More excellent food and more excellent company.

Stuffed, we made our way to the Arclight Theater (a Los Angeles landmark) to pick up tickets for the new Mission Impossible then Will and I headed across the street to Amoeba Music (another landmark).
This place made me roll a tear, bringing back all the wonderful memories I’d had at various Tower Records/Video during my time in college.
This place was the fucking Platonic Ideal of Tower.
Sadly, crushingly, now that I’m a filthy deadbeat music downloader, there was nothing I was looking for.
I was thinking how impersonal and unexciting things have gotten with regards to new music these days…
There’s no more lining up at a Tower at midnight on a Monday in order to be one of the first fans to hold in your hands the new thing from your favorite artist/band.
Now it’s all about trawling the torrents sites for the earliest leak with the highest bit rate.
*sigh*
Will, however, had no problem whatsoever finding a panoply of physical media to bring home.
The lucky dog owner.

Then, off to the movie and fresh caramel popcorn.
Even though the movie was pretty straightforward action pap, the experience was pretty great.
I wish I’d seen The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo or something else where the sound was more than just explosions.
Not a bad movie though.

Once the movie had ended, Will and I dropped Diana at home and headed out to UCLA for They Might Be Giants’ thirtieth anniversary concert.
If you’re truly interested in this, I direct you now to scroll down a few inches and read my full review.
Overall, while it was a solid concert, I felt they could have made a bigger deal over this marking thirty years of them playing live together.
Plus the energy felt a bit low, probably because it was a seated venue and they’d done a family show earlier that day.
God damn do I hate seeing them in seated venues when they’ve performed a family show earlier that day…

One thing I will mention, as it has me utterly flummoxed and managed to truly shake my world view: after Jonathan Coulton had finished up and Will and I were waiting for TMBG to take the stage, Will asked me how many times, at this point, I had seen They Might Be Giants live.
I told him it was between 55 and 60 since my first show in March of 1998 in Orlando.
He balked and said that was a huge number.
I countered that there were people there tonight who had seen them more than that, much more, 300 times, at least, maybe more.
He scoffed, did the math and said I was insane.
I then put my money where my mouth is and bet him five bucks that, if he went down to the front row and asked how many times the people sitting there had seen TMBG, that he’d get at least ONE person in triple digits, closer to 300 than not.
I figured since we were in row V and those folks were in row A, well, yeah.
So, Will went down and, a few minutes later, returned, demanding his money.
I asked for the total and he said, after polling the first AND second rows, the highest number of shows seen…was fifteen.
Fifteen.
So, it appears that I am somewhat obsessed with They Might Be Giants.
Who knew?

We got to Will’s and, as the three of us were feeling a bit peckish, whipped up a delicious little meal that included magic sauce for potatoes and fresh guacamole and fajitas.
An upside to not having a 24 hour run-of-the-mill diner a thousand feet from your front door…
Then, more much needed sleep.

Sunday morning was spent with our friend from high school, Hillary who lives in L.A. and brought along her husband, Alex, and her suspiciously adorable kids, Finley and Nico.
Hillary has been doing well in L.A., to put it mildly.
It was truly great to catch up with her and Alex, who I hadn’t seen in about six years or so.
We talked about being handicapped in the industry and how stupid people are and whatnot.
Good times.
Yet another great meal with great conversation.
Things were beginning to feel a bit scripted at this point…

Soon after, Hillary, Alex and their unnaturally cute kids left and the three of us unwound with Memento.
Guy Pierce sounds like it should be a porn actor’s name.

After that, Will and I left to see Eddie Izzard at the Coronet, something that popped up at the last minute a day or so before.
We swung by and got our (amazing) seats then Will took me to the final, insane dinning experience of my trip: a little place called Milk.
After several days of meat and meat and meat, I decided to have a nice, light pasta dish with pesto and other things that weren’t meat…and some chicken.
I’m not a fag, okay?
Then (and this is what the place is known for), I got some dessert, Coffee Toffee ice cream, to be exact.
Haven’t had ice cream that good in quite a while.
Then, off to the Coronet to have my brain blown out the top of my head by the one and only Eddie Izzard.
His set covered why God doesn’t exist, the whole of human existence and why Latin is a dead language.
My two favorite moments were the Latin thing and his joke about picky badgers (which included an amazing impression of bok choy…yes, he did an impression of bok choy…the Chinese cabbage) which culminated in a delicious and truly awful pun.
I’ve decided that I need to see him every single time I can from now on.
I saw him once in Philly with Lauren and Trevor, but he was sick and we were tired (still, an utterly amazing show).
There is just SO MUCH packed into one of his sets that you can’t help but find something so funny that you can’t breathe.
I think I’m ready to declare Eddie Izzard, Patton Oswalt and Stella my favorite comics.
Call someone.
Tell the others.

With that, ostensibly, my trip to Los Angeles was over.
I packed, slept and then, the next morning, bid Will and Diana goodbye as the Super Shuttle pulled up.
On the way to the airport, I began talking with the only other person on said shuttle, a postal worker named Sabin, who waited for me to stop talking long enough to interject stuff I really had no interest in hearing…except for one thing.
I commented that the burgers at In & Out were pretty good, but that the fries were awful.
He informed me that it was because they were natural.
“They fry them in veggie oil, add salt and that’s it.”
An interesting possibility, and yet…no.
These fries were really fucked.

Aside from the typical airport shit and a delicious pulled pork sandwich in Memphis, that was it.

My very first time out there and I can’t imagine anything else living up to it.
I mean, amazing food at every turn, getting on stage with Kevin Smith and Jason Mewes, seeing They Might Be Giants and Eddie Izzard, booking a (hilarious, weensy) gig, collaborating on a hit song, not to mention the amazing friends and the weather and everything else?
Come on!
The only things I didn’t do on this trip were coke, experience an earthquake and punch a supporter of Proposition 8 in the genitals while screaming “THIS IS WHAT YOU’RE DOING TO THESE PEOPLES’ HEARTS!!!”.
The one issue I could see if I ever ended up out there would be the lack of transportation.
Or rather the abundance of shitty transportation.
I don’t want a repeat of Florida, which utterly stripped me of my independence when I was at my most independent.
One of the main reasons I’m in New York is that one does not need anything more than a pair of legs to get oneself around.
And, god DAMN are my legs beautiful…
But, I suppose I can burn that bridge when I cross it.
This was an exceptional weekend, populated by exceptionally friends.
California truly does know how to party.
Yes they do.

 


* I would meet an unlikely someone during my last hour or so in Los Angeles who would posit an answer to my query…

** Namely: Clerks, Mallrats, Chasing Amy, Dogma, Jay and Silent Bob Strike back and Clerks: the Animated Series.

FOR SCIENCE!!!!!!!!!!!

This Saturday, I had me my science party.
Yes, there was science.
Fire and freezing and shattering and a bunch of fun stuff that would have gotten me expelled had I ever dared to do any of it in school.
Aside from having to resort to "poor man's liquid nitrogen" because some monster fuckmaster from T.W. Smith told me I could get the LN2 from noon to fucking four on Saturday forgot to mention that when he said "noon to four" he fucking meant "eight to noon".
God damn cuntflaps.
But, a million thanks to my One and Only who snapped to and tracked down 15 pounds of dry ice.
While not as dangerous or cold (-70 C) as LN2 (-321 C), it still has the capability to maim people, so, at least there was that.
Once I saw some videos of dry ice doing its ting, I stopped throwing my tantrum (and it was the closest thing to a tantrum I've had since I was 5) and the evening got started.
Seriously though, I felt like a little kid who had been promised a clown and who had told ALLLL the kids coming to the party that there was going to BE a clown...but then, at the last minute, the clown was killed by Nazis.
Who then raped the clown in front of the kid.
Laughing.
So, yeah.
But, despite the lack of potential lethal liquid elements, everything went super swimmingly.
Special shout outs (along with Chris) to Jan and Jim who brought a fucking trebuchet that was assembled with liquid quickness by Jen Rock and the Original Jen.
Also, to New Friend, Karyn Joy DeAwesomename, Becca's friend who joined in the science and shattered the shit out of some flowers.
We hope to see more of you guys the next time things get scientific.

The next day, Chris and I had Brunch with Kathy and I ate deep friend bacon for the first and last time in my life.
I can still hear it screaming in my colon just planning how to get back at me for eating it.
Its revenge will include bloody stool, I fear...

Later that day though, Chris and I watched Hunter S. Thompson's The Rum Diary and it was awesome.
The story and acting and everything were all right, but what it was...was amazing...
Rum Diary was basically Batman Begins for Hunter S. Thompson.
It's his origin story and it's pretty incredible to see what went into making him him.
I still miss that guy...
If you're looking for a crazy drug trip with mostly unintelligible dialogue, watch Fear & Loathing, but, if you want a less psychedelic film, and would like to Aaron Eckhart lose his shit, check out Run Diary.

I'm still crafting my account of my trip to Los Angeles at the end of January, so, hold tight...you, one person who is reading this, you'll get your butter tarts soon...

Exhausted today after only getting eight hours or so and waking up for, of all fucking things, an Odor Eaters VO.
Yeah, they still make those.
At least the copy wasn't fucking warm and friendly with a hint of a smile.
They sort of embraced the fact that their product is going to be purchased by people with smelly feet.

All right.
On your way.

A review of They Might Be Giants' 30th Anniversary Show at Royce Hall at UCLA

Had a chance to see They Might Be Giants’ 30th Anniversary Show at Royce Hall at UCLA.
Here’s how it went…

Even though this show had a “Lincoln* theme” and therefore featured a slew of songs I hadn’t heard in a while over my fifteen years of fandom, the whole thing felt a bit lackluster for their 30^th anniversary playing together.
I honestly expected a full horn section, special guests…flaming tigers?
At one point, Robin “Goldie” Goldwasser popped out and joined the band for “Dr. Evil” (probably because she’d performed at the family show earlier that afternoon and had no plans for the evening) and Conan O’Brien’s pet trumpet player, Mark Pender was on-stage for a handful of tunes, but that was all.
This show marked thirty years to the day that these guys (Flansburgh and Linnell) have been playing together.
THREE DECADES.
And all they could muster was one trumpet player and Flans’ wife?Don’t misunderstand, both Pender and Goldwasser are exceptional performers, but this was to be a special night and it felt a bit flat.John and John offhandedly mentioned the significance of the evening once and that was it.I wasn’t looking for a VH-1 Storyteller’s session, but, come on, this band has been around for longer than some of its fans have been on the planet!It’s a massive achievement and I was a bit puzzled they didn’t take three minutes to pat themselves on the back is all.

Aside from the indifference towards this momentous occasion, the show was excellent. The Avatars of They came out and performed a song from their upcoming EP (a jingle for a new, fake drug called PANDOR) as well as the bridge of “Snowball In Hell”, a high point of the show. Some other great moments included a rallying game of Apes Vs. People (people won) as well as a John/John/accordion rendition of “How Can I Sing Like A Girl?”, plus some of the best tracks off of Lincoln (“They’ll Need A Crane”, “Pencil Rain” and “Ana Ng”) and their latest single from their second most recent release, Join Us, the shimmeringly aggressive, “When Will You Die?”.
Personally, I would have replaced the ridiculously overplayed “Damn Good Times” with “New York City” or “Don’t Let’s Start” or “No One Knows My Plan” or “The Lady and The Tiger” or “The Guitar” or even just three minutes of old school John and John banter, but that’s just me…and me thinks that they should stop playing that song.

Overall, the energy felt a little low, whether because of the afternoon show or the fact that this was a seated venue, but, other than that and the aforementioned failure to make a big deal about themselves, it was, like I said, an excellent show, as pretty much all They Might Be Giants shows are.
After thirty years, these guys can still sell out a venue and have their audience standing and stamping their feet for an encore.

This was the second date on the last leg of their Join Us tour and I’ll also be seeing them on the last date of said leg in March at Terminal 5.
There will be no show earlier in the day, the audience will be standing the whole time and it’s going to take place a mildly expensive cab ride away from the Johns’ homes in Brooklyn; in other words: no excuses.

See you in March, gentlemen.

*Their second album, released in 1988.

End of the Month Music Bitchfest - January 2012

Happy New* Bitch.

Nine Inch Nails

Despite releasing the epic, amazing etc. etc. etc. Girl with the Dragon Tattoo score, Reznor and Ross were NOT nominated for an Oscar.
Which doesn't really matter because it was still released and is still amazing, but, you know, it feels good to know that other people enjoy good music as well.
Makes one feel like the world might not be ending in 530+ days.
But, let's look on the bright side: maybe he'll spend less time making music for films and more time making Nine Inch Nails music.
Apparently, the deluxe Fragile and the full length How To Destroy Angels album are coming out this year (the HTDA this quarter, according to things).
I'll believe it when I'm slamming them repeatedly into my earholes.

They Might Be Giants

Their final leg of the Join Us tour started on the 28th in Los Angeles at Royce Hall with a Lincoln show.
And I was there to see it.
It wasn't a full-on, front-to-back Lincoln show, but they played 14 of the 18 tracks off the album.
A few tracks I'd never heard which were pretty awesome live, and some that felt a bit slapdash.
All in all, for the show celebrating their very first live performance together, thirty years ago TO THE DAY in Central Park as El Groupa De Rock N Roll.the show was a bit of a let down.
I expected at least a full horn section, maybe some special guests, I don't know.but there was only Robin Goldwasser, who popped out to sing "Dr. Evil" and then Mark Pender, Conan's pet trumpet player.
And they are still fucking playing "Damn Good Times".
I will also be at the last show (according to Flans himself) of 2012, March 10th at Terminal 5.
And the rest of the year? Spent relaxing and raising their children?
"Fuck that," says the band, "we're going to write and record (and hopefully release) TWO brand new
albums (plus an EP by our puppet alter egos, the Avatars of They)!"
Here's hoping they have nothing to do with children.
The albums, not the band.
Although, as we've seen with certain bands named Nine Inch Nails, kids can REALLY fuck up an album release schedule.
Am I right or am I right or am I right???!!!
Yes.

Note: Okay, for 2012, I'm just going to cut back on the wasted energy and simply not write anything if the other three bands (Cake, Beck, and Eels) don't do anything.
A. It isn't like they'll happen to read this and then feel guilted into making music and B. I need to save my energy for my parkour training.

So, that said.

Beck

Beck remixed a Feist song.
And I took a huge shit the other day.
I'd rather listen to the latter.

Marilyn Manson.ha ha ha.
Never you mind about Marilyn Manson.

Just a few days ago, Garbage launched their new site.
So far, they have posted a sort of mission statement, some tour dates (all festivals and non-U.S. dates) a teaser for the new album, which now has a title and a release date.
The new Garbage album, the first in seven years, will be titled "Not Your Kind Of People" and will be released on their own label on May 15th.
W00t.
The band keeps saying that it sounds like their first two albums without sounding like their first two albums.so yeah.
Apparently, we're going to hear their first, as-of-yet-untitled single in January.which didn't happen.
At least not in this quantum eventuality.

Nothing from Tweaker, either, although, I forget if I already "reported" this, but Vrenna has officially left the greasy, undertalented clutches of Marilyn Manson.
Halle-fucking-lujah.
Here's hoping they've got something good to show us.and soon.

And, now, an addition to the list of bands/artists that aren't in my top five but who I am looking forward to their next release list.Damon Albarn.
Here's my brief history with regards to Mr. Albarn.
I liked one or two Blur songs, then listened to their greatest hits collection then liked three or four of their songs.
I liked one or two songs off of the first Gorillaz album and then the majority of the second Gorillaz album and then I liked Damon Albarn.
One of the reasons I like him, even if I don't love every one of his many, many solo and side projects is that he is clearly an artist who is doing what he wants and having a great, goddamned time doing it.
Blur? Whatever.
But then he created a band with artist Jamie Hewlett based on the concept of how fake the industry is.
Not only that, but he's taken things so far with Gorillaz that they've become a world wide phenomenon, bigger than Blur will EVER be.and they don't really exist.
Then there's the aforementioned other projects, such as The Good, the Bad and the Queen, the music for the stage play, "Monkey: Journey To The West", the opera written about Doctor John Dee called "Doctor Dee", the recently released DRC (Democratic Republic of the Congo) Music collaboration, "Kinshasa One Two" which was recorded in Kinshasa in five days with a slew of Congolese musicians and some huge ass producers including Dan the Automator, Richard Russell, Marc Antoine, Jneiro Jarel, T-E-E-D (Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs) and Kwes.
And, something I recently discovered by accident,; a project he did back in 2002 called "Mali Music"
with a group of Malian musicians.
It's some of the most interesting, rich and textured music I've heard in a while.
Some of it would fit perfectly on the next Gorillaz album, whenever and whatever that might be.
Then there's his upcoming project, Rocketjuice and the Moon, a funk side project consisting of him, Tony Allen and Flea.
Yeah.
This guy is having fun.
And listening to him is fun so, bang on, Damon Albarn; I look forward to what comes next from you.
I also highly recommend checking out that "Mali Music" album. The music ranges from dusty and atmospheric (like the unsettling ghost waltz sound of "Spoons", which reminds me of a darker version of that huge ballroom scene from the Magic Kingdom's Haunted Mansion ride), to happy-walk-through the-jingle-with-a-friendly-sloth-holding-a-coconut jaunty ("Le Hogon"), to very Gorillaz-esque melancholy ("Sunset Coming On" ).
Check it out, you've not heard anything like it before.

All righty.
Welcome to the New Year.
It still sounds like Bitch..

*Old

It's Been A While

Fuck you, Staind.
You've managed to ruin a phrase that people say all the time.
Also, your name is misspelled and you sound like a MORE awful Limp Bizkit.
But, hey, at least Fred Durst died from that exploded appendix...the one I sent him that was full of hand grenades and needles covered in hep-C.
So, Happy New Year after all, I suppose.

I have been in quite a busy state.
The Grind Show audio book project, which has sort of had no real deadline, suddenly has a very hard, very real, very fast-approaching deadline.
But, after a solid weekend of rerecording and editing, I am almost done.
I need to edit my rerecord of chapter 2 (the original chapter was not as action packed as it should have been) and then, barring some huge, computer-related cataclysm, the Grind Show audio book is finished.
Cannot WAIT for people to hear this...
More information coming soon.

Then there is my upcoming trip to Los Angeles.
I'll be attending They Might Be Giants' 30th anniversary concert, seeing a recording of Jay and Silent Bob Get Old (as will Will's lovely wife, Diana, who, thanks to Will, has NO IDEA what she is in for) and, hopefully hanging out with Grahme Skipper and Dan Delgado, he of the terrifying, knobbly word cock.
When I return, I will be a mere four days from my 31st birthday party...which will feature liquid...motherfucking...nitrogen.
There will also be other awesome science things to do.
I plan to wear a lab coat and quote Portal all evening.

When I find the time, I have been playing my copy of the Metal Gear Solid HD collection which has cleaned up, prettier versions of MGS 2, MGS 3 and MGS Peace Walker.
I've always loved these games, but was reminded of why after playing Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater, the first, chronologically speaking, Metal Gear game.
The depth to these games is...incredible...
The entire series is based, not on running in guns blazing, but in staying hidden.
You can potentially, if you're amazing and Japanese, play every single game in the series without being seen by the enemy and by taking them out with non-lethal force.
It requires skill and patience, but it's possible, and you're rewarded for both.
And then there is the story...
I'm planning on playing the whole series in order just to get a clearer pictuire at the ridiculously convoluted, super-Japanese plotline.
I say "clearer picture" because that's really all you can get when it comes to Metal Gear.
That should carry me into 2013 nicely...

Aside from reliving my fondest tactical stealth action memories, Chris and I have been watching the sixth season of Dexter, which, despite the inclusion of such television and movie stars as Tom Hank's son and Commander Adama from BSG, was really awful.
Except for the last thirty seconds.
Again, if you want something cool, just watch the last thirty second of Dexter, season six.
With the events of that thirty seconds, season seven promises to be good.
HAS to be. 

Along with all this, I've recorded some VO for new friend/collaborator, Phil Maniaci, who was a co-producer "Bitter Sweet", the short film that was too scary for Steve Buscemi, rerecorded some Lenovo VO for TransPerfect and, tomorrow, I have my third session with Speakaboos, in which I will finish where I left off in my recording of the alphabet.
I was on "G".
Which stands for "green".
The color, not the fad.

Very exciting times.
Very exhausting, exciting times.

The Most Interesting Voice We've Ever Heard

A few days ago, I was contacted for an audition which, due to my recent illness, I was unable to attend.*
Here's what the client was looking for:

The most interesting voice we’ve ever heard. He’s likeable and authentic. Distinct. Masculine. Confident. Comfortable in his own skin. Someone you look up to. A storyteller.

The most interesting voice we've ever heard.
While I know the client (it's a very mainstream product for very mainstream people) and their previous ad work (it's fucking everywhere all the time in New York), I'm not going to say the name, just in case, but, one thing I will say: in the end, this ad will not feature the most interesting voice anyone has ever heard.
But, Paul, they said they were looking for the most interesting voice they've EVER heard! It's right there in the spec!!!
Yes, Other Me I'm Making Sound Like An Idiot For The Purpose Of Proving My Point, I know, but, you have to understand, when people like this say something like that, they don't mean interesting to everyone, they mean interesting to their trudging, brain-dead demographic.
So, if one were to go in with a for-real-and-true interesting voice, these folks would probably grimace, say "weeeeeird-ooooo" and move on (after high fiving in assent).
Not that I consider my voice interesting. I believe it can do some interesting things, but I've never had anyone say "you have an interesting voice".
It's deep and rich like buttered sex leather (I actually have gotten that before) but I would not say it's interesting.
Crispin Glover has an interesting voice.
Alan Rickman has an interesting voice.
Emo Philips has an interesting voice.
But the idea of any of these actors doing a voice over for THIS company?
I can feel their wallets shriveling at the thought of trying anything so...risky.
God forbid that someone other than their demographic thinks something they do is interesting! Why, that might get them more customers and what kind of business wants that?!
More money? Thank you, sir, but, no, we'll do just fine with our brand of not-actually-interesting interesting.
Another hint as to how this will not, in any way, be interesting: all the words in that description: "likeable", "authentic", "distinct", "masculine", etc. are what's known as "bullshit".
These words appear in almost every voice over description out there (along with my top three favorites: "warm", "friendly" and "not announcery").
You see where I'm going with this?
How are you going to do something interesting if you only use old and tired buzz words?
There's no math to it...
Anyway, I can't wait to see what these guys think of for "the most interesting voice they've ever heard".
I'm willing to bet you'll forget this commercial before it's even over.

* But please believe me when I promise you this is not a "sour grapes" thing by any means. I go on enough auditions to not let these things bother me.