After a month or so, I'd say I've compiled enough info to warrant a music post. Judgement is still reserved for the masses, but I'm rather satisfied.
Kicking off with a couple of the more hotly anticipated studio releases from two of the more popular rock acts of the modern era. On one end of the in-your-face spectrum, we have the former gods of independent funk, AFI. I say former, because what was once a raw show of punk fury and emotion has been replaced by something heavier, darker, and much more pop. How do dark, heavy, and pop all come together? Just take one listen to the record, Decemberunderground, and you'll understand. Along with the increased musicality of their instrumentation, you are presented with the same solid melodies of their previous effort, which included the monster hit, "Girl's Not Grey." Davey Havok's range, from the pitchy wail to the buzzsaw scream, goes a long, long way to making these melodies work. While the rawness of their early sound is what made them compelling, it's their devotion to expanding this sound for an emerging audience that makes them engrossing. The standout single, "Miss Murder" is a prime example of how much they've developed. Not bad for a second effort into the realm of mainstream rock.
The other side of the coin comes from the previously posted god of Emo himself, Chris Carrabba and Dashboard Confessional. Some might say Dashboard produces some of the saddest albums to be recorded, but Dusk and Summer takes things into a new direction. Previous releases have been marked by devotion to an intimate, acoustic setting reliant on scarred emotion, but this entry launches an intriguing new direction. The sound, the feeling, everything becomes bigger. Lest anyone throw out the word "important," the central theme is anything but. Subjects of found love, hope, and memory run rampant. Although some of it disappoints, it's a good addition to the discography and shows how much Dashboard has grown from a small one-man outfit, into a band ready for the arena.
We move on from mainstream rock now (ahem) and into some more eclectic sounds. All of you familiar with the awesome might of Radiohead should know who Thom Yorke is. What may surprise some is that he recently recorded and released an album titled " The Eraser." Quite similar in scope to the much-lauded Kid A, his first solo album consists of tunes composed entirely by Mr. Yorke at his own home and mixed through his own methods (most likely on his laptop). It's moody, it's entrenched in melancholy, and it's fascinating. It does sound a lot like anything else Radiohead has produced, but it contains a lot of what Thom Yorke brings to the table in the group, the biting sardonics of his lyrics and a cold paranoid sheen. In particular, "Atoms for Peace" marks the halfway point in which Mr. Yorke feels most comfortable singing behind an Arkanoid bass line. Now, all we have to wait for is the next Radiohead disc and all will be right with the world.
The running gag is that I have a propensity for British groups and artists like Radiohead. Maybe because I've grown accustomed to the new wave sound having grown up to the dulcet tones of Duran Duran and New Order or maybe because I happen to be a follower like that. I like to think that it's not my fault they happen to be great artists. Does it follow that if certain groups can achieve monster success in their own country while American music is quite popular that they should be just as popular here? There must be some bearing, somewhat, although I'm still surprised that the latest barn-ripping disc from the Futureheads hasn't garnered as much attention, seeing that it's ten times better than their first record and maybe one of the best I've heard all year. How shall I count the ways. From the first anthemic strains of "Yes/No" to the closing yarns in "Face" they've built on the harmonic and guitar-driven duplicity of their debut and delivered with their sophomore CD, News and Tributes. One could argue that their vocals are a novelty against a punk rhythm, but it's inherent in their carefully crafted melodies that this is something unique, startling, and satisfying.
Seeing as I've reviewed the Raconteurs show already, it seems redundant to give a brief look at Broken Boy Soldiers. Everyone's ears have no doubt been bludgeoned by modern rock radio's insistent plugging of "Steady as She Goes" by now, with good reason. The song stands not so awkwardly as a good demonstration of Jack White and Brendan Benson's synesthesia of classic rock and classic blues. The guitar solos shred and the interplay of both artists blends flawlessly in their performances. The single is just the tip of the iceberg and when one is finally assaulted with "Intimate Secretary" and "Level" there is no doubt that the White Stripes are a parlor trick compared to the eruptive creativity of the Raconteurs. My misfortune is in being turned off perhaps by the requisite blues tunes on the record, in that I favor their more rock-infested songs. This doesn't mean that it stands as a disappointment, but rather as a work in progress. Given more touring and more recording, I'm confident there will be a classic in the making.
A good haul over the last month, what this means is that I need to back it off for a bit. Luckily, nothing too striking is coming out soon.
Still on deck, not quite sure, but I'm going to look into Stateless and DJ Shadow to see what they've got coming up.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Swing, Swing (part 1)
Once again, we braved the Burbs of Orange County and made our trek to the Orange County Fair to cash in on our tickets to one of the most popular rock acts of the modern era, The All-American Rejects. While we made it to the fair well before the headlining act, we made it a point to grab some fair food for dinner, as it is required of us.
My goal this time around was to nab some of the extra-large onion rings and a strawberry julius. I recently read that most people will throw out their usual diet routine for fair food and I can clearly understand their motivation. Where else does one have the opportunity to devour deep-fried twinkies or avocados? When else are you allowed to consume a giant milkshake and a fiery bratwurst with no guilt?
After a short walk, we reached our destination and assembled a king-sized dinner consisting of some gargantuan onion rings, a strawberry julius, lemonade, a giant smoked turkey leg, and some grilled corn on the cob (2 cobs!). The julius itself wasn't bad, but I'm still preferential of the orange variety. I think it wasn't quite whipped enough and too frozen for my tastes, but still serviceable. As for the rings, they were battered to death and served with ranch dressing. Big enough that I was only able to consume 1 and 1/3 rings, they were impressive, but still just a giant version of the classic ring.
My goal this time around was to nab some of the extra-large onion rings and a strawberry julius. I recently read that most people will throw out their usual diet routine for fair food and I can clearly understand their motivation. Where else does one have the opportunity to devour deep-fried twinkies or avocados? When else are you allowed to consume a giant milkshake and a fiery bratwurst with no guilt?
After a short walk, we reached our destination and assembled a king-sized dinner consisting of some gargantuan onion rings, a strawberry julius, lemonade, a giant smoked turkey leg, and some grilled corn on the cob (2 cobs!). The julius itself wasn't bad, but I'm still preferential of the orange variety. I think it wasn't quite whipped enough and too frozen for my tastes, but still serviceable. As for the rings, they were battered to death and served with ranch dressing. Big enough that I was only able to consume 1 and 1/3 rings, they were impressive, but still just a giant version of the classic ring.
Swing, Swing (part 2)
Here we have Don taking the first bite of the the giant turkey leg. It wasn't quite as tender as the Disneyland version, but the smokey flavor brought out the intensity of the dark meat. As for the corn, one can never go wrong as long as the seasonings are right.
Afterwards, we headed down to the main event. Now, don't get me wrong, but I've been to a few pop concerts before, especially since Grace loves it, so I was expecting the usual screaming teenagers and proliferation of parents thereabouts. I'm familiar with a few of their songs too, so I was there with open ears. Trust me, it isn't the most bubblegum thing I've ever seen, but truthfully, I was impressed with their showmanship and passionate performance. Although there were times where the lead singer really pandered to the audience, they were sincere and very appreciative of their success. The onstage persona the Rejects pulled off was energetic and fun, pretty much everything you would want from one of the most popular radio acts in America. Of course they muscled their way through "Swing, Swing" and "Dirty Little Secret" the former being their first massive hit, both of these whipping the crowd up into an enormous mess of glee.
Admittedly, it was an enjoyable show. Although I saw the lead guitarist whip out 3 more guitars than possibly necessary and despite the overwhelmingly youthful atmosphere of the show (including some shrewd musical chairs employed by the group next to us) it was enjoyable. I think they do deserve their popularity, considering how generic a lot of popular rock acts are these days, they have a very unique flavor of music palatable for all ages. Closing the show with "Move Along" really did go a long way to make our experience memorable.
Afterwards, we headed down to the main event. Now, don't get me wrong, but I've been to a few pop concerts before, especially since Grace loves it, so I was expecting the usual screaming teenagers and proliferation of parents thereabouts. I'm familiar with a few of their songs too, so I was there with open ears. Trust me, it isn't the most bubblegum thing I've ever seen, but truthfully, I was impressed with their showmanship and passionate performance. Although there were times where the lead singer really pandered to the audience, they were sincere and very appreciative of their success. The onstage persona the Rejects pulled off was energetic and fun, pretty much everything you would want from one of the most popular radio acts in America. Of course they muscled their way through "Swing, Swing" and "Dirty Little Secret" the former being their first massive hit, both of these whipping the crowd up into an enormous mess of glee.
Admittedly, it was an enjoyable show. Although I saw the lead guitarist whip out 3 more guitars than possibly necessary and despite the overwhelmingly youthful atmosphere of the show (including some shrewd musical chairs employed by the group next to us) it was enjoyable. I think they do deserve their popularity, considering how generic a lot of popular rock acts are these days, they have a very unique flavor of music palatable for all ages. Closing the show with "Move Along" really did go a long way to make our experience memorable.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
El Gatito Anaranjado
For the second time in a few years, we have found and "rescued" a stray cat from the wilds of Grevillea Ave. This time, instead of finding a kitten stuck inside of some luggage, we found this poor, little fella hanging out in the garage roaming free. Originally, our apartment manager, Alvin, had found him inside of a shoebox. Left alone and unable to escape due to an oil can being placed on the lid, Toby (not sure where I got this name from) was skinny and starving, mewing for someone or something to come get him. Unlike the previously found kitten, Toby was quite curious and friendly, very willing to hang out with people and he made himself quite at home in our apartment. Unfortunately, since I'm allergic and pets are not allowed in our apartment, we're not able to keep him. Anyone out there want a kitten?
In any case, what makes me feel awful is how we found him in the first place. At least in the first case, I can surmise that the kitten got curious enough to find himself stuck in a piece of baggage, but in this case, it's apparent that someone placed Toby in the shoebox to keep him there for themselves. Most likely, it was one of the kids living in our neighbor's apartments wishing for a pet, but I can't assume that right away. The proper thing to do, I guess, would be to give up Toby to animal control. My conscience wouldn't let me do that, so we placed him in cat Paradise for the time being. For now, I know that he'll be happy and healthy until he can find a suitable adoptive home. More details as this story develops.
In any case, what makes me feel awful is how we found him in the first place. At least in the first case, I can surmise that the kitten got curious enough to find himself stuck in a piece of baggage, but in this case, it's apparent that someone placed Toby in the shoebox to keep him there for themselves. Most likely, it was one of the kids living in our neighbor's apartments wishing for a pet, but I can't assume that right away. The proper thing to do, I guess, would be to give up Toby to animal control. My conscience wouldn't let me do that, so we placed him in cat Paradise for the time being. For now, I know that he'll be happy and healthy until he can find a suitable adoptive home. More details as this story develops.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Comic-Con 2006 (part 1)
Comic-Con...
That fabled nerd mecca just south of us which is now dubbed the largest pop culture convention in America just finished up its five-day festival of the fantastic this past weekend. As a bona fide nerd myself, it was inevitable that I would make the trip down to San Diego to take it all in. There were not many surprises for myself, but there are ways in which I can learn to make the experience much better.
For all the interesting sights and amazing artists that were in attendance, the most awful aspect had to be the parking and registration experience. Thinking we'd be able to beat the crowds, I pre-registered online and pre-paid our fees knowing that the same business we completed last year was quite beneficial for our experience. What we saw this year was very different in the form of full parking lots and an hour wait in the sweltering heat and humidity. So many people were attempting to get into the convention halls that convention officials stopped allowing unregistered guests buy tickets after 12:30. It was a horrible start to the day and really affected my mood and patience, but not so much that I couldn't enjoy myself.
The highlights for me, of course, are always speaking with some of my favorite artists which this year included Bryan Lee O'Malley, Josh Middleton, JG Jones, Dustin Nguyen, and Frank Cho. I missed out on seeing some other ones I knew where in attendance, most of the Flight artists and the elusive and talented artist of DEMO, Becky Cloonan. It can be really tough for me to chat a bit with any of these artists, mostly because I have a hard time talking with new people anyway, but also for the reason that they tend to be very busy and often very stressed. I've been lucky, however, that most of them are also quite accomodating and appreciative of their fans. Scoring two small sketches from both Mr. O'Malley and Mr. Nguyen really helps too.
That fabled nerd mecca just south of us which is now dubbed the largest pop culture convention in America just finished up its five-day festival of the fantastic this past weekend. As a bona fide nerd myself, it was inevitable that I would make the trip down to San Diego to take it all in. There were not many surprises for myself, but there are ways in which I can learn to make the experience much better.
For all the interesting sights and amazing artists that were in attendance, the most awful aspect had to be the parking and registration experience. Thinking we'd be able to beat the crowds, I pre-registered online and pre-paid our fees knowing that the same business we completed last year was quite beneficial for our experience. What we saw this year was very different in the form of full parking lots and an hour wait in the sweltering heat and humidity. So many people were attempting to get into the convention halls that convention officials stopped allowing unregistered guests buy tickets after 12:30. It was a horrible start to the day and really affected my mood and patience, but not so much that I couldn't enjoy myself.
The highlights for me, of course, are always speaking with some of my favorite artists which this year included Bryan Lee O'Malley, Josh Middleton, JG Jones, Dustin Nguyen, and Frank Cho. I missed out on seeing some other ones I knew where in attendance, most of the Flight artists and the elusive and talented artist of DEMO, Becky Cloonan. It can be really tough for me to chat a bit with any of these artists, mostly because I have a hard time talking with new people anyway, but also for the reason that they tend to be very busy and often very stressed. I've been lucky, however, that most of them are also quite accomodating and appreciative of their fans. Scoring two small sketches from both Mr. O'Malley and Mr. Nguyen really helps too.
Comic-Con 2006 (part 2)
There is of course, the other half of the convention that I look forward to, which happens to be the immensely-growing urban vinyl contingent. This time around I met Frank Kozik who was in a very good mood, having just had a favorable meet with the folks of Secret Base. His new Labbits are awesome and he also happens to be one of the nicest guys in the business. Although I didn't score a retro metallic Goon by Touma, I managed to snag the newly minted and exclusive 8-inch Dunny designed by clothing designer and graff artists extraordinaire Deph. Being the only figure I bought amongst a gaggle of sketchbooks, it was a great find. Although, I did somewhat think I pulled the trigger on buying the toy too early, unwrapping the little guy made it the more worth it.
So, in essence, the things I learned this year were to avoid the crowds by making it there early, spend more time casing the joint to see the artists I want to, and probably take some more time checking out the toy vendors more carefully. I do want to thank Grace for taking the time to go with me, as it really isn't her scene. I like to think that she had a good time seeing me go bananas over certain things, even if it does make me an enormous geek. SDCC is over, but it will be back again next year most likely bigger and better than this already historic 2006 edition.
More pictures here. Not as many as last year but enough to make me happy.
So, in essence, the things I learned this year were to avoid the crowds by making it there early, spend more time casing the joint to see the artists I want to, and probably take some more time checking out the toy vendors more carefully. I do want to thank Grace for taking the time to go with me, as it really isn't her scene. I like to think that she had a good time seeing me go bananas over certain things, even if it does make me an enormous geek. SDCC is over, but it will be back again next year most likely bigger and better than this already historic 2006 edition.
More pictures here. Not as many as last year but enough to make me happy.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
My Baby's On the Level
Living in Los Angeles has many advantages, depending on how one looks at things. From my vantage point, we are incredibly lucky, seeing as I've been able to see so many bands perform in our fair city these last few weeks. This latest and greatest of shows was one of the most sought-after tickets (after the Radiohead tickets, of course) by all the hipsters and scenesters, and many of the other people wearing ironic sunglasses and moustaches. This show of course, was Jack White and Brendan Benson's co-op, the Raconteurs.
I like to consider the Wiltern (or the LG Wiltern, as they like to call themselves these days) my all-time favorite medium-small-sized venue. There's plenty of standing room to be had on the floor and the theater is always a raucously loud show. This also lends to some negative aspects, but I'll get to that in a second. The Raconteurs, they really did an awesome job capitalizing on the level of intimacy the location imparts between band and audience. Not only were they intensely loud, but the energy dispensed with each song grew and grew to almost death-defying levels. Opening up with "Intimate Secretary" and playing through a few cover songs really doesn't describe what type of performance they put on. It would have been great to see the entire thing.
This is where I complain. First off, the show itself started quite late, with the opening act (!) kicking things off close to 9:15. Not only that, but the second act goes on at 10, leaving the Raconteurs enough time to get onstage roughly close to 10:45. If anyone's doing the math at home, a person who needs to be at work close to 6 o'clock in the morning will be getting quite cranky. Myself, I don't mind too much, but the lateness made me quite antsy. Coupled with the fact that I wasn't too familiar with the opening acts (both solid performances) made for an unhappy waiting game.
If we were only waiting, it would have been better, but we did have to contend with more issues with personal space. I don't know what it is with certain people at shows, but some really have no concept of maintaining a comfortable distance with those around them. Poor grace had some crazy couple practically making out on top of her. If it weren't for these two factors, I think we would have been able to catch the entire show from start to finish.
Unfortunately, with the abbreviated attendance, I can't make a fair call on the entire performance, but from what I saw, I was duly impressed. I still love the Wiltern, but from now on, I'm going to make more of an effort to watch who it is I stand near.
I like to consider the Wiltern (or the LG Wiltern, as they like to call themselves these days) my all-time favorite medium-small-sized venue. There's plenty of standing room to be had on the floor and the theater is always a raucously loud show. This also lends to some negative aspects, but I'll get to that in a second. The Raconteurs, they really did an awesome job capitalizing on the level of intimacy the location imparts between band and audience. Not only were they intensely loud, but the energy dispensed with each song grew and grew to almost death-defying levels. Opening up with "Intimate Secretary" and playing through a few cover songs really doesn't describe what type of performance they put on. It would have been great to see the entire thing.
This is where I complain. First off, the show itself started quite late, with the opening act (!) kicking things off close to 9:15. Not only that, but the second act goes on at 10, leaving the Raconteurs enough time to get onstage roughly close to 10:45. If anyone's doing the math at home, a person who needs to be at work close to 6 o'clock in the morning will be getting quite cranky. Myself, I don't mind too much, but the lateness made me quite antsy. Coupled with the fact that I wasn't too familiar with the opening acts (both solid performances) made for an unhappy waiting game.
If we were only waiting, it would have been better, but we did have to contend with more issues with personal space. I don't know what it is with certain people at shows, but some really have no concept of maintaining a comfortable distance with those around them. Poor grace had some crazy couple practically making out on top of her. If it weren't for these two factors, I think we would have been able to catch the entire show from start to finish.
Unfortunately, with the abbreviated attendance, I can't make a fair call on the entire performance, but from what I saw, I was duly impressed. I still love the Wiltern, but from now on, I'm going to make more of an effort to watch who it is I stand near.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Orange County Livestock
Once again, another picture from the Orange County Fair. This time, we have a picture of the newly born piglet litter that was not even 2 days old at the time we had seen them. They had actually grown quite a bit, I imagine, and were either feeding vigorously or napping. Can you imagine a better life than eat and sleep all day? Then again, most likely some of these poor little beasts will be shipped off to be someone's breakfast at some point. I don't like to think about that very much myself, but it's a fact of life.
Now, this brings us back to the part of the fair many people would sooner avoid if they're more used to the urban sensibility, the livestock. While I find it fascinating to see the cattle, chickens, and other various animals on display, the smell would tend to drive the less curious away from the bins and pens. You do learn quite a bit, like the gestation period of the average rabbit is only around 31 days! They also happened to have a few informative maps regarding the agricultural make-up of the entire state of California. I never knew that San Bernardino County was mostly known for it's dairy, fancy that.
Thinking about it, not much about the fair livestock changes a whole lot. I believe we also managed to catch a sow with her newborns last year as well. Somehow, it doesn't get old. Maybe it's the fact that it's similar to a zoo in that we don't actually see these types of animals in our every day lives. For every llama that I stare at with confusion in my eyes, there's someone's daughter staring wide-eyed as they witness their first live cow and pet the newly shorn sheep. The fair may be about commerce, eating like a madman, and twirling in circles 'til you puke, but it can also be pretty educational.
Now, this brings us back to the part of the fair many people would sooner avoid if they're more used to the urban sensibility, the livestock. While I find it fascinating to see the cattle, chickens, and other various animals on display, the smell would tend to drive the less curious away from the bins and pens. You do learn quite a bit, like the gestation period of the average rabbit is only around 31 days! They also happened to have a few informative maps regarding the agricultural make-up of the entire state of California. I never knew that San Bernardino County was mostly known for it's dairy, fancy that.
Thinking about it, not much about the fair livestock changes a whole lot. I believe we also managed to catch a sow with her newborns last year as well. Somehow, it doesn't get old. Maybe it's the fact that it's similar to a zoo in that we don't actually see these types of animals in our every day lives. For every llama that I stare at with confusion in my eyes, there's someone's daughter staring wide-eyed as they witness their first live cow and pet the newly shorn sheep. The fair may be about commerce, eating like a madman, and twirling in circles 'til you puke, but it can also be pretty educational.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Orange County Fare
Growing up, I never made it out to the Orange County Fair as often as one might think. For one, I'm not a big fan of the spin 'til you throw up carnival rides and for another, it's never really been a top priority since not many of my friends had the absolute desire to go. While many a teenage victim has fallen to being an employee of the fair during the summer, it is definitely more fun to actually attend than work. Besides the obvious fact that you will be labeled a "carny" by anyone walking by, you also get to see some agricultural phenomena not known to many suburbanites. But that's probably saved for another post.
What's always my goal during any sort of festival, is to try at least one new artery-clogging item from the food booths. There's the expected hamburgers and hot dogs, but there's also some more um... innovative fare such as deep-fried avocado and strawberry julius. This time around, I managed to snag the most cringe-inducing sweetness in the form of the Deep-Fried Oreo cookie. Slathered in a Funnel Cake type batter, fried in the healthiest of healthy oils, covered in chocolate or strawberry sauce, and then sprinkled, they really aren't the prettiest things to look at. Tasting it is another matter.
Don, Grace, and I bravely tried these puppies with myself consuming the lion's share. The only way I can describe it is, "Sweet, crispy, and very unhealthy." You definitely can taste the Orea, but the batter is unexpectedly sweet and soft. It's almost as if it were a cookie-filled doughnut. As I proclaimed on Sunday, this is probably the one and only time I will order this item, not because it was terrible, but because it has to have raised my cholesterol by at least 100 points. I swore I could feel my arteries tighten.
Next up: the infamous strawberry julius and onion rings the size of my head.
What's always my goal during any sort of festival, is to try at least one new artery-clogging item from the food booths. There's the expected hamburgers and hot dogs, but there's also some more um... innovative fare such as deep-fried avocado and strawberry julius. This time around, I managed to snag the most cringe-inducing sweetness in the form of the Deep-Fried Oreo cookie. Slathered in a Funnel Cake type batter, fried in the healthiest of healthy oils, covered in chocolate or strawberry sauce, and then sprinkled, they really aren't the prettiest things to look at. Tasting it is another matter.
Don, Grace, and I bravely tried these puppies with myself consuming the lion's share. The only way I can describe it is, "Sweet, crispy, and very unhealthy." You definitely can taste the Orea, but the batter is unexpectedly sweet and soft. It's almost as if it were a cookie-filled doughnut. As I proclaimed on Sunday, this is probably the one and only time I will order this item, not because it was terrible, but because it has to have raised my cholesterol by at least 100 points. I swore I could feel my arteries tighten.
Next up: the infamous strawberry julius and onion rings the size of my head.
Friday, July 14, 2006
A Mark, A Mission...
Chris Carrabba is a rock god.
OK, so he's not metal, but if there were to be a posterboy for the modern-day rock-anthem Jesus, it would be Mr. Carrabba and Dashboard Confessional. You wouldn't doubt me had you seen the Dashboard show last night at the Gibson Amphitheater.
Not necessarily my own personal hero, I really appreciate the sincerity and emotional candor Mr. Carrabba has so faithfully published many times previously with Dashboard. From the first small full-length LP to this recent arena-ready monstrosity, he's managed to create songs that cause teenage girls to cry and grown men to sing like women. This was in full form last night as shrieking 15-year-olds screamed his name at the top of their lungs and men poured their hearts out at the top of their lungs. You would honestly think that this was a Sunday morning gospel and people were testifying to his sermon.
What I saw was an artist who was very comfortable in his celebrity. His performance was solid, he knew when to let the audience do the singing, and also knew what made them connect so well with his words. While our good friend Jenny claims his early demeanor to be friendly and intimate, it's hard to imagine it now, having only seen him perform at the larger venues. Perhaps this is what fame does, it makes it harder to claim intimacy with such a large group of fans.
I will say this though, it was a great show and an engaging performance despite the melodrama and the teenage intensity. Carrabba played many an older song and of course all the big hits that put them where they are today. If there's any evidence that this is a band to remember, it would have to be the singing audience members before and after the show. When I say the people love him, I really mean that they love him.
Good show, maybe I'll see it all again in a smaller setting some day, but that's almost another whole post in itself.
OK, so he's not metal, but if there were to be a posterboy for the modern-day rock-anthem Jesus, it would be Mr. Carrabba and Dashboard Confessional. You wouldn't doubt me had you seen the Dashboard show last night at the Gibson Amphitheater.
Not necessarily my own personal hero, I really appreciate the sincerity and emotional candor Mr. Carrabba has so faithfully published many times previously with Dashboard. From the first small full-length LP to this recent arena-ready monstrosity, he's managed to create songs that cause teenage girls to cry and grown men to sing like women. This was in full form last night as shrieking 15-year-olds screamed his name at the top of their lungs and men poured their hearts out at the top of their lungs. You would honestly think that this was a Sunday morning gospel and people were testifying to his sermon.
What I saw was an artist who was very comfortable in his celebrity. His performance was solid, he knew when to let the audience do the singing, and also knew what made them connect so well with his words. While our good friend Jenny claims his early demeanor to be friendly and intimate, it's hard to imagine it now, having only seen him perform at the larger venues. Perhaps this is what fame does, it makes it harder to claim intimacy with such a large group of fans.
I will say this though, it was a great show and an engaging performance despite the melodrama and the teenage intensity. Carrabba played many an older song and of course all the big hits that put them where they are today. If there's any evidence that this is a band to remember, it would have to be the singing audience members before and after the show. When I say the people love him, I really mean that they love him.
Good show, maybe I'll see it all again in a smaller setting some day, but that's almost another whole post in itself.
Rarified Air
I'm gonna double post to make up for two days of absence. What a whirlwind week we've weathered. I'd like to say that there has been at least one day of rest in there somewhere, but at least this weekend looks like it will slow down. Anyway...
Last Saturday, amongst the throngs of art fans and comic fans of Alhambra at Nucleus, a small group of us took in the fantastic release party for the latest Flight anthology. Now in their third volume, this successful collection has been seen as the greatest introduction to some quite accomplished independent comic book artists.
"But.. but... how was it and who are these guys?" one might ask. I'm happy to oblige. 10 artists from the book made their way to the San Gabriel Valley to celebrate and 10 were kind enough to sign my book and in some cases, throw in a tiny sketch for good measure. I chatted it up with a couple of them (Rad Sechrist, Kazu Kibuishi, and Paul Harmon being the most chatty) and even made away with a great print of the cover which you can see at the top of the stairwell in the embedded photo. Seeing all their work so filled out and accomplished was very inspiring, but even more inspiring was just talking with them and seeing how passionate most of them are about the work.
While I did make some good connections at the show, I enjoyed seeing all the pieces in the gallery in their unfinished glory. While the computer is becoming the weapon of choice these days, seeing the inked line over pencil (or most often, blue pencil) reminds me of how beautiful hand-created art can be. One day, technology will really be able to capture the organic feel of an inked page, but until then, I still appreciate the time and effort it took all the artists to complete their stories.
Now, we just have to wait until Flight 4 to see what they can really do.
Last Saturday, amongst the throngs of art fans and comic fans of Alhambra at Nucleus, a small group of us took in the fantastic release party for the latest Flight anthology. Now in their third volume, this successful collection has been seen as the greatest introduction to some quite accomplished independent comic book artists.
"But.. but... how was it and who are these guys?" one might ask. I'm happy to oblige. 10 artists from the book made their way to the San Gabriel Valley to celebrate and 10 were kind enough to sign my book and in some cases, throw in a tiny sketch for good measure. I chatted it up with a couple of them (Rad Sechrist, Kazu Kibuishi, and Paul Harmon being the most chatty) and even made away with a great print of the cover which you can see at the top of the stairwell in the embedded photo. Seeing all their work so filled out and accomplished was very inspiring, but even more inspiring was just talking with them and seeing how passionate most of them are about the work.
While I did make some good connections at the show, I enjoyed seeing all the pieces in the gallery in their unfinished glory. While the computer is becoming the weapon of choice these days, seeing the inked line over pencil (or most often, blue pencil) reminds me of how beautiful hand-created art can be. One day, technology will really be able to capture the organic feel of an inked page, but until then, I still appreciate the time and effort it took all the artists to complete their stories.
Now, we just have to wait until Flight 4 to see what they can really do.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
My Scary Little Mind
I'm not really sure if I've posted this before, but it will be a little interim post before my Flight 3 show review. On with the show...
There is a moment when the sun stops shining that yellow lemon-bright scented cherry aura and when the creatures living under the stairs and bowels of the earth creep from hidden crevices on six legs, cloven-hooved and baring gnarled teeth, looking for scrumptious aphid-worms while we, ourselves turn out the turgid orange porch light and double lock the rickety wooden deadbolt doors. Night isn't what we call it; it is "their night."
Mist-clad cloud demons rain from green-grey ink, screaming through the sky, yearning for fresh tears from the eyes of first-born calves. They sustain themselves on these tears and breed the dew-devils on morning grass that dance among our sleep-encrusted mucus-tinged eyes. Not for laughter's sake are they cruel, but for pity's sake that they keep each mewling female calf alive to witness a new day before the slaughter of their kin, left alive and breathing in aluminum pens bolted together by the yellow jaws of plaid-skinned fat cats.
For every nightmare Cloud Demon, there were a dozen Dew Devils amongst the morning blades of grass cracking their briny knuckles across dry soil beds, coiled and primed for the first step of an unwitting toddling child. Grabbing at shoelaces and clawing at hangnails amongst the green, they topple the two-year old masters and mistresses of plantations deep amongst the Louisiana tobacco fields. Upon their little body's impact, an explosion of pollinated dust pebbles lets loose into a Devil's maw, with which they fill tiny mason jars adorning their belts, saving them for sinister purpose of which one knows not. Toiling the day for skinned knees and weeping mothers and fathers, evil Dew creatures only make their escape at the strike of twelve, and swiftly clear way for their brethren in the later half of daylight.
These other hobs and haints are worth mentioning, but perhaps another time when your stomach can handle it.
The Beasties in the Grass and Sky
There is a moment when the sun stops shining that yellow lemon-bright scented cherry aura and when the creatures living under the stairs and bowels of the earth creep from hidden crevices on six legs, cloven-hooved and baring gnarled teeth, looking for scrumptious aphid-worms while we, ourselves turn out the turgid orange porch light and double lock the rickety wooden deadbolt doors. Night isn't what we call it; it is "their night." Mist-clad cloud demons rain from green-grey ink, screaming through the sky, yearning for fresh tears from the eyes of first-born calves. They sustain themselves on these tears and breed the dew-devils on morning grass that dance among our sleep-encrusted mucus-tinged eyes. Not for laughter's sake are they cruel, but for pity's sake that they keep each mewling female calf alive to witness a new day before the slaughter of their kin, left alive and breathing in aluminum pens bolted together by the yellow jaws of plaid-skinned fat cats.
For every nightmare Cloud Demon, there were a dozen Dew Devils amongst the morning blades of grass cracking their briny knuckles across dry soil beds, coiled and primed for the first step of an unwitting toddling child. Grabbing at shoelaces and clawing at hangnails amongst the green, they topple the two-year old masters and mistresses of plantations deep amongst the Louisiana tobacco fields. Upon their little body's impact, an explosion of pollinated dust pebbles lets loose into a Devil's maw, with which they fill tiny mason jars adorning their belts, saving them for sinister purpose of which one knows not. Toiling the day for skinned knees and weeping mothers and fathers, evil Dew creatures only make their escape at the strike of twelve, and swiftly clear way for their brethren in the later half of daylight.
These other hobs and haints are worth mentioning, but perhaps another time when your stomach can handle it.
Monday, July 10, 2006
16 M O A D A C
Would anyone expect that a movie based on a theme park attraction would have one of the highest opening weekends in history if not the highest opening weekend in history? Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest did just that. Seeing as the first film was a pleasant surprise to hit theaters (lots of fun if not a lot of substance), it followed that the sequel would promise just as much fun. Really, I wasn't too high on seeing the movie at first, but after hearing a couple good reviews and seeing the trailers, I was intrigued. What was the end result? Big, exploding, Summer fun.
Big really does a great deal to describe the film. While it did take a while to get its wheels up and off the ground, the action was relentless. The set pieces including a rolling chase sequence in a spherical cage made of bones and incredible oceanic sequences while morbid at some points brought forth an originality I think is somewhat missing from what people consider to be the modern pirate film. Cutthroat Island? Not a chance.
The glue to this picture is twofold. What has been said already by Johnny Depp's performance in the first one holds water the second time around. Keith Richards can't even play Keith Richards this well. You tend to wonder what goes in Depp's head to wrap himself in this character so well, but since he pulls it off so well, there's nothing to do but sit back and enjoy. The second half of this exhausting chemical equation is the amazing effects on screen, most apparent in the person of Davy Jones and his elaborate ship and crew. When Bill Nighy opens his mouth through his peculiarly tentacled beard and when the Flying Dutchman reveals itself, the film never stops. For this movie alone, you should expect to hear the name Crash McCreery for years to come.
At two and a half hours, the film doesn't seem quite as long as Superman Returns , solely for the fact that there is so much action. Perhaps there are some problems that present themselves. I, for one, can't imagine how anyone could possibly tie up all the plot threads left dangling at film's end for At World's End. Also, there are moments where Orlando Bloom's Will Turner seems inconsequential. A lot of this movie is about Jack Sparrow and Keira Knightley's Elizabeth, but whenever Orlando is on screen, something just fizzles. That's probably just my own observation.
I would recommend seeing this movie while it's still hanging around in theaters, not the best I've seen so far this Summer season, but definitely one to remember.
Overall Score: 3.5 out of 5 stars
Big really does a great deal to describe the film. While it did take a while to get its wheels up and off the ground, the action was relentless. The set pieces including a rolling chase sequence in a spherical cage made of bones and incredible oceanic sequences while morbid at some points brought forth an originality I think is somewhat missing from what people consider to be the modern pirate film. Cutthroat Island? Not a chance.
The glue to this picture is twofold. What has been said already by Johnny Depp's performance in the first one holds water the second time around. Keith Richards can't even play Keith Richards this well. You tend to wonder what goes in Depp's head to wrap himself in this character so well, but since he pulls it off so well, there's nothing to do but sit back and enjoy. The second half of this exhausting chemical equation is the amazing effects on screen, most apparent in the person of Davy Jones and his elaborate ship and crew. When Bill Nighy opens his mouth through his peculiarly tentacled beard and when the Flying Dutchman reveals itself, the film never stops. For this movie alone, you should expect to hear the name Crash McCreery for years to come.
At two and a half hours, the film doesn't seem quite as long as Superman Returns , solely for the fact that there is so much action. Perhaps there are some problems that present themselves. I, for one, can't imagine how anyone could possibly tie up all the plot threads left dangling at film's end for At World's End. Also, there are moments where Orlando Bloom's Will Turner seems inconsequential. A lot of this movie is about Jack Sparrow and Keira Knightley's Elizabeth, but whenever Orlando is on screen, something just fizzles. That's probably just my own observation.
I would recommend seeing this movie while it's still hanging around in theaters, not the best I've seen so far this Summer season, but definitely one to remember.
Overall Score: 3.5 out of 5 stars
Friday, July 07, 2006
Dinner at the Bowl
A genuine Los Angeles institution, the Hollywood Bowl has to be my favorite medium-to-large sized concert venue. Where else can you crack open a bottle of your fave vino and snack on some classy homemade recipes before taking in a spectacular show under the night sky? For the relatively low, low price of $30 a person, you can see your favorite band bust out your favorite tunes while eating a tasty meal. As The Shins called it last night, it's Dinner Theater at its finest.
Oh, that's who we saw by the way: The Shins and Belle and Sebastian (accompanied by the Los Angeles Philharmonic) in front of a live audience. Under the low dusk of the California sun, The Shins busted out a lot of their most popular material for thousands of adoring fans. Their big break had to have been the inclusion of "New Slang" on the most awesome Garden State soundtrack, but for me, Chutes Too Narrow is where I fell in love with the New Mexico indie flavor. Far from the ear-splitting electric guitar wave I'm used to, their music is quite mellow, subtle, and very well-written. I'd describe it as melodiously harmonic baroque rock, if that makes any sense. The new material they played fit very well in this vein and if it's any indication the direction of the entire new album, I'll be sure to nab it instantly.
Oh, that's who we saw by the way: The Shins and Belle and Sebastian (accompanied by the Los Angeles Philharmonic) in front of a live audience. Under the low dusk of the California sun, The Shins busted out a lot of their most popular material for thousands of adoring fans. Their big break had to have been the inclusion of "New Slang" on the most awesome Garden State soundtrack, but for me, Chutes Too Narrow is where I fell in love with the New Mexico indie flavor. Far from the ear-splitting electric guitar wave I'm used to, their music is quite mellow, subtle, and very well-written. I'd describe it as melodiously harmonic baroque rock, if that makes any sense. The new material they played fit very well in this vein and if it's any indication the direction of the entire new album, I'll be sure to nab it instantly.
Dinner at the Bowl (part 2)
Headlining the event was the ever-so-popular Belle and Sebastian. This Scottish troupe came out to raucous applause and to the swelling strings of the Phil as they unwrapped their normal combination of folksy pop and bubbly guitar rock. This blend works quite well for them, in my opinion and while I'm not entirely familiar with their discography, they put in a very entertaining show. The lead singer interacted very well with the crowd even going as far as borrowing makeup and a spare dress (??) from an audience member. Each song had an undercurrent of irony (at least seemingly) but the sincerity of the performance really went a long way in selling their sound. Most definitely, they are very seasoned and deserve the popularity, but I'm not quite sure if I'm sold on their brand of sound just yet. I'll have to give them a few more listens before I can pass final judgement.
However, the energy they displayed was twice as exciting as what the Shins displayed. I did enjoy both bands immensely, probably the music more of the Shins, but the vivacity of B & S really gave them a run for their money. Being backed up by the Phil really went a long way towards giving it an overwhelmingly positive effect, so that may have been a factor as well. The best part of it all, though, is definitely having seen it all at the bowl.
This is the first of a series of concerts we'll be seeing this Summer and it was a good way to start. Next week, it's an introduction to a band most Emo.
However, the energy they displayed was twice as exciting as what the Shins displayed. I did enjoy both bands immensely, probably the music more of the Shins, but the vivacity of B & S really gave them a run for their money. Being backed up by the Phil really went a long way towards giving it an overwhelmingly positive effect, so that may have been a factor as well. The best part of it all, though, is definitely having seen it all at the bowl.
This is the first of a series of concerts we'll be seeing this Summer and it was a good way to start. Next week, it's an introduction to a band most Emo.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Today, We Celebrate Our Independence...
There's a whole mess of Emmy news this morning, concerning how Lost came up relatively empty, but given that the nominee list is yooge, there's no way I want to spend the time recapping and predicting. I think it's safe to say that Gray's Anatomy will walk away with a few awards though.
That's all beside the point, as what I really wanted to go on about today is the Fourth of July holiday we all celebrate in these here United States as our Independence Day. If you're in the country during the first week of July, you'll be accosted by red, white, and blue in all forms. Perhaps you'll even be struck in the face by a random flag here and there and no doubt there will be many different iterations of Uncle Sam hanging about. Nowhere else is this more prevalent than in Huntington Beach.
Having grown up there, been educated there, and called it my home, HB is exactly the type of staunch beach city with its own storied Fourth of July traditions. Riots notwithstanding, the parade and celebration is over 100 years old, basically as old as the High School it crosses in front of every year. While minor celebrities will always be a part of the parade, there are other aspects of it you can always expect: Shriners, Boy Scouts, and even the requisite marching band. Participating in the parade can be fun, but I think I'm happier now to be an outsider than I was previously.
What's so significant about the city's celebration is how much of it really is a Big Deal. According to Grace "it's like a religion." Really, it is. Bunting and flags abound on this weekend, almost a holy weekend for some, and forbid the fact that anyone not celebrate, because that would be relatively unamerican. Although I really do enjoy several aspects of the celebration, it can be a bit much.
Consider the fact that the local streets are clogged, firework displays right in the middle of the street threaten your own car, and there's no shortage of inebriated public humiliations. Knowing many of the local streets, we were able to escape the traffic in minutes, but I can imagine all those poor suckers stuck for an hour trying to travel two city blocks. It's probably even more harrowing when you have crazed pyromaniacs attempting to set off the random screamer inches from bumper and fender.
Regardless, it was a nice day for us at the beach with family, and with friends. Fireworks were a good show and even with a little drama afterwards, everything worked out. Just another day under the sun...
That's all beside the point, as what I really wanted to go on about today is the Fourth of July holiday we all celebrate in these here United States as our Independence Day. If you're in the country during the first week of July, you'll be accosted by red, white, and blue in all forms. Perhaps you'll even be struck in the face by a random flag here and there and no doubt there will be many different iterations of Uncle Sam hanging about. Nowhere else is this more prevalent than in Huntington Beach.
Having grown up there, been educated there, and called it my home, HB is exactly the type of staunch beach city with its own storied Fourth of July traditions. Riots notwithstanding, the parade and celebration is over 100 years old, basically as old as the High School it crosses in front of every year. While minor celebrities will always be a part of the parade, there are other aspects of it you can always expect: Shriners, Boy Scouts, and even the requisite marching band. Participating in the parade can be fun, but I think I'm happier now to be an outsider than I was previously.
What's so significant about the city's celebration is how much of it really is a Big Deal. According to Grace "it's like a religion." Really, it is. Bunting and flags abound on this weekend, almost a holy weekend for some, and forbid the fact that anyone not celebrate, because that would be relatively unamerican. Although I really do enjoy several aspects of the celebration, it can be a bit much.
Consider the fact that the local streets are clogged, firework displays right in the middle of the street threaten your own car, and there's no shortage of inebriated public humiliations. Knowing many of the local streets, we were able to escape the traffic in minutes, but I can imagine all those poor suckers stuck for an hour trying to travel two city blocks. It's probably even more harrowing when you have crazed pyromaniacs attempting to set off the random screamer inches from bumper and fender.
Regardless, it was a nice day for us at the beach with family, and with friends. Fireworks were a good show and even with a little drama afterwards, everything worked out. Just another day under the sun...
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
It's a Bird...
What is possibly the most incredibly anticipated movie of the summer has finally landed with a giant craterous explosion. It took off over the weekend in a thunderous blast and seems nigh invulnerable at this point to be the box-office champion of the year.
At least that's how I interpret the arrival of Superman Returns.
Finally, after being mired in development hell for over 15 years, the big blue boy scout has made his way back on to celluloid or, in this case, the digital world. While there are a lot of narrative cues similar to what has come before, technology has come far enough that the movie stands out as a testament to what comic adaptations can really be. Many of this can be attributed to Bryan Singer, of X-Men and X2 fame, and his ability to really understand and exploit the strengths of his material. While X-Men was very much being an outsider, this film creates its own themes of strength and relevance.
What we had before, with Christopher Reeve, Margot Kidder, and Gene Hackman , has been updated with younger leads and another Academy Award Winner. Brandon Routh easily slips into Mr. Reeve's boots but shines when he slips on the glasses, Kate Bosworth, while arguably too young for the part, gamely shows resolve and determination as Lois Lane, and Kevin Spacey gnaws at the scenery whenever he's hamming it up as Lex Luthor. All of the supporting actors made the lead performances all the more effective with stellar work all-around. Even if Initial casting did raise some doubts, the final product proves that they may have been right all along.
Most amazingly, where the most strides are made have to be within the story itself. If anyone remembers those moments of epic bliss in the original Superman, you will be pleased with the grandiose protestations behind Mr. Singer's lens. At first glance, you have the story of Superman's outsider status within the world, but what you really end up with is how does Superman fit within the world today and what he represents. So many stories have been written of Superman as savior, as father-figure, as gay icon, as religious deity, but what I interpret the story to mean most is whether there is still hope and majesty in our world. As cynical as today's culture is, with a worldview of "Why the world doesn't need superman," there still exists a need for hopes and dreams. As Superman explains to Lois Lane when questioned if the world really needs a Superman, "I hear everyone... and they're telling me they do."
If there were any complaints, it would be the length of the movie. 2 and a half hours is quite a bit of time to be sitting in the theater, but from the first moment he shreds the sky, you are hooked. There are moments that felt could have been left on the cutting room floor, but the movie doesn't suffer from it at all. Perhaps a controversial choice was to include Lois Lane's son as a plot-line. Although I think it could go either way, maybe his presence was just enough to show how much life had changed with the absence of Superman from the world. Myself, I'm on the fence on that one, it could go either way, but it still didn't take away the fact that I really, really enjoyed this film.
Overall Score: 4.5 out of 5 stars
PS - Having seen it in 3D, I'd recommend the experience. I'll have to see it again in its native aspect...
At least that's how I interpret the arrival of Superman Returns.
Finally, after being mired in development hell for over 15 years, the big blue boy scout has made his way back on to celluloid or, in this case, the digital world. While there are a lot of narrative cues similar to what has come before, technology has come far enough that the movie stands out as a testament to what comic adaptations can really be. Many of this can be attributed to Bryan Singer, of X-Men and X2 fame, and his ability to really understand and exploit the strengths of his material. While X-Men was very much being an outsider, this film creates its own themes of strength and relevance.
What we had before, with Christopher Reeve, Margot Kidder, and Gene Hackman , has been updated with younger leads and another Academy Award Winner. Brandon Routh easily slips into Mr. Reeve's boots but shines when he slips on the glasses, Kate Bosworth, while arguably too young for the part, gamely shows resolve and determination as Lois Lane, and Kevin Spacey gnaws at the scenery whenever he's hamming it up as Lex Luthor. All of the supporting actors made the lead performances all the more effective with stellar work all-around. Even if Initial casting did raise some doubts, the final product proves that they may have been right all along.
Most amazingly, where the most strides are made have to be within the story itself. If anyone remembers those moments of epic bliss in the original Superman, you will be pleased with the grandiose protestations behind Mr. Singer's lens. At first glance, you have the story of Superman's outsider status within the world, but what you really end up with is how does Superman fit within the world today and what he represents. So many stories have been written of Superman as savior, as father-figure, as gay icon, as religious deity, but what I interpret the story to mean most is whether there is still hope and majesty in our world. As cynical as today's culture is, with a worldview of "Why the world doesn't need superman," there still exists a need for hopes and dreams. As Superman explains to Lois Lane when questioned if the world really needs a Superman, "I hear everyone... and they're telling me they do."
If there were any complaints, it would be the length of the movie. 2 and a half hours is quite a bit of time to be sitting in the theater, but from the first moment he shreds the sky, you are hooked. There are moments that felt could have been left on the cutting room floor, but the movie doesn't suffer from it at all. Perhaps a controversial choice was to include Lois Lane's son as a plot-line. Although I think it could go either way, maybe his presence was just enough to show how much life had changed with the absence of Superman from the world. Myself, I'm on the fence on that one, it could go either way, but it still didn't take away the fact that I really, really enjoyed this film.
Overall Score: 4.5 out of 5 stars
PS - Having seen it in 3D, I'd recommend the experience. I'll have to see it again in its native aspect...
Weekend Decompression
After a four-day weekend, I'm going to need some time to collect all of my thoughts. But I do promise that there will be a post-filled week, even if it is short. Hope everyone's Fourth of July was safe, fun, and exciting!
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