tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75762432972515824262024-03-14T02:14:05.527-05:00A Talent for IdlenessIra Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.comBlogger114125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-27749695571267084772022-03-02T18:44:00.003-06:002022-03-03T09:49:01.214-06:00Lou Reed's Greatest Cover Song: "Tarbelly and Featherfoot" by Victoria Williams<p><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFcEFJKeDsGVB7Z-JBaH4OioRSD6fiLGx0ijomPAQyVySHonv3THEN7skcUOUs98fmpxp63uarpqO4tXNPBcenkir4wzv45iC-QRKKHf_V8bUbc3Uf3D95KAzkzQRsu9tUsU3bCXmYcKJKe8IO-nHnSYvZuJD2FtdrDagt14Xz2H8UDGJBvx9J2VMrXA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFcEFJKeDsGVB7Z-JBaH4OioRSD6fiLGx0ijomPAQyVySHonv3THEN7skcUOUs98fmpxp63uarpqO4tXNPBcenkir4wzv45iC-QRKKHf_V8bUbc3Uf3D95KAzkzQRsu9tUsU3bCXmYcKJKe8IO-nHnSYvZuJD2FtdrDagt14Xz2H8UDGJBvx9J2VMrXA" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br />You couldn't exactly call Lou Reed a prolific covers artist. As with a lot of folks who pride themselves on their songwriting abilities, Lou seems to have had a lot more interest in playing his own songs than in coming up with new interpretations of other people's work. That's a bit of a bummer, both because I love unorthodox covers and because Lou Reed was pretty good at them. </span><p></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-99358893-7fff-376d-26a1-bcfca0123f61"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">But that reluctance to give his blessing to other people's work just made it all the more meaningful when Lou did digress to recording a cover. I read it as a show of the utmost respect, reserved for artists who he considered influences or equals. </span></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I was able to put together <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6mrrynvMGdUDAOe5BUEtEv?si=0496646d37424a44">a playlist of what I think are all the Lou Reed covers</a> available on Spotify. It's only nine songs long and two are different versions of the same song, but it gives a good picture of the level of artists who got his stamp of approval: Kurt Weill, Bob Dylan, Buddy Holly, Doc Pomus, Peter Gabriel, and the like aren't exactly lightweights. (He also performed at a couple of John Lennon tribute shows despite his publicly professed disdain for The Beatles. Hating the Beatles and loving solo John Lennon is such a Lou Reed move.)</span></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><iframe allow="autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; fullscreen; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="380" src="https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/0XVTqkYvT1oML2lYI76rfh?utm_source=generator" style="border-radius: 12px;" width="100%"></iframe><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It's a uniformly good roster of songs. Lou puts a distinctive stamp on each track, whether that means turning staples like "Peggy Sue" or "This Magic Moment" into fuzzed-up rockers or finding the introspective dirges beneath "Solsbury Hill" and "September Song." For my money, though, the greatest cover Lou Reed ever recorded is the one that's probably least known in its original incarnation. </span></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Victoria Williams was a well respected but not hugely famous Americana singer-songwriter in the early 1990s when she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Her profile was raised immensely by </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sweet Relief</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, a 1993 tribute album organized to help pay for her medical expenses because our healthcare system was somehow even more broken then than it is now. The all-star lineup pulled in 14 superstars of alt-rock and alt-country performing covers from Williams's </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Happy Come Home</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Swing the Statue! </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">albums. Both of those are stellar albums but the latter is Vic's masterpiece, a sunny piece of songwriting genius with haunting glimpses of darkness lurking in its corners.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/YFC00BJ8mLQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="YFC00BJ8mLQ"></iframe></div><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sweet Relief</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, which was co-produced by Sylvia Reed, Lou's wife and manager at the time, is fantastic across the board. It definitely benefited from catching Pearl Jam at the peak of their powers, laying down an iconic version of Williams' "Crazy Mary" that propelled the album to becoming a staple of Gen X CD shelves. Unsurprisingly, though, my favorite work on </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sweet Relief </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">came from Lou Reed and his take on the inexplicable "Tarbelly and Featherfoot."</span></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">"Tarbelly and Featherfoot" is a weird song in its original incarnation, telling the story of two people who could be friends, enemies, lovers, siblings, or some combination thereof. All we know for sure about their relationship is that they're sharing the same physical space, and Featherfoot wants to leave. That's easier said than done, as Tarbelly is an immovable object whose primary interest seems to be standing in the doorway drooling. The song ends with the titular game of Swing the Statue, which sees Featherfoot flinging Tarbelly far into the distance and then ruminating on the nature of love. </span></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">All of that oddness is right in Lou's early '90s wheelhouse, and he manages to crank it up another couple of notches. Riding on a chugging guitar riff that would fit right in on "New York" or "Magic and Loss," he transmutes Victoria's inimitably optimistic chirp into a snide drone of a vocal. It's a hugely effective shift that makes the song feel less like a confoundingly quirky fable and more like an equally inscrutable cautionary tale. You can almost hear the rueful head-shaking in Lou's delivery of "Thump thump, down the stairs he came" and "All the while, Tarrrr-belly stood in the door." He adds in some oddball specifics that just make the whole encounter all the more surreal, with Featherfoot taking the time to trim his toenails and chug a bottle of Absolut. I 100% get why Lou would choose this, of all Victoria Williams songs. It's a kindred spirit to absurdist story songs like "Last Great American Whale" or "Animal Language."</span></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/r_Hip54xM1Y" width="320" youtube-src-id="r_Hip54xM1Y"></iframe></div><div><br /></div></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The weary New York-ness of '90s Lou Reed is diametrically opposed to the Louisiana cheer of Victoria Williams, yet their work is somehow perfectly suited for each other. He's a laconic Tarbelly, she's an energetic Featherfoot, and together they're a combination that just plain works. On an album full of stellar interpretations of some of the era's finest songs – I hold Victoria Williams as one of the greatest lyricists of her generation – "Tarbelly and Featherfoot" stands out as not just the most distinctive track, but also the one that best weds the unique sensibilities of singer and songwriter. You can hear that Lou is recording this cover not out of mere obligation or even respect, but genuine love. </span></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The one time I got to see Lou Reed perform live, he had Victoria Williams as his opening act. I've written before about my complicated memories of that concert, including how Vic more or less stole the show. It was a pairing that shouldn't have worked – the gulf between the buoyant uplift of something like Victoria's "Frying Pan" and the grime of Lou's "Rock Minuet" should be too much to bridge. Somehow, though, their yin and yang formed a perfect circle every time they collaborated. That kind of sympatico pairing is a rare thing to see, and it's why "Tarbelly and Featherfoot" holds a place of singular esteem in both of their catalogs. "You can't get love without giving it away" indeed.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><br /></span>Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-90314606793819461602021-03-02T11:28:00.012-06:002021-03-02T12:07:15.845-06:00A polite round of applause: on The Velvet Underground, Lou Reed, Low, sickness, fire, expectations, and a year without music<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z2D_CGSkpE4/YD50EGA7exI/AAAAAAAAS1A/bvNeJG--i3A5M9ZfY3UaDSf_Tz_A999rACLcBGAsYHQ/s503/low%2Bvelvet%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="Low performs at Hook & Ladder in Minneapolis" border="0" data-original-height="379" data-original-width="503" height="301" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z2D_CGSkpE4/YD50EGA7exI/AAAAAAAAS1A/bvNeJG--i3A5M9ZfY3UaDSf_Tz_A999rACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h301/low%2Bvelvet%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i>The members of Low perform Velvet Underground songs, October 12, 2019</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>In October of 2019 I went with my friend Matt to see the members of Low play a one-night-only set of Velvet Underground covers, in honor of the 50th anniversary of the Velvets' lone Minneapolis concert. The show was at Hook & Ladder, a former fire station converted into a pleasantly shabby performance venue just off Lake Street in Minneapolis. For that night at least, it carried exactly the right dingy vibe to suit a faux Velvet Underground concert by my favorite active live band. <br /><br />
It was, predictably, a transcendent experience. (I've never seen Alan Sparhawk provide anything but, and I've seen a lot of Alan Sparhawk performances.) I can't think of many bands more capable than Low of recreating the austere yet ragged intensity of the Velvets without veering into parody, or worse yet, handling the material overly reverently. While the four Velvet Underground albums are legitimate holy texts for music lovers, playing them as such would rob the songs of the dangerous energy that makes them vital.
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Low got it just right, lurching through the hits and the deep cuts with equal ferocity. They brought out the reliably amazing local violinist Gaelynn Lea to handle the John Cale string arrangements. They did a live rendition of "Lady Godiva's Operation," for pete's sake. Who plays "Lady Godiva's Operation" live? Alan Sparhawk even managed to exude some of the aloof-cool wit of a young Lou Reed, although there's no hiding the fact that Alan is a nicer guy than Lou by magnitudes. <br /><br />
It was, in short, about as perfect a live Velvet Underground experience as a person could have hoped to see in late 2019. There was no way of knowing then that we were just a few months away from live music ceasing to exist for a year and counting. That the Hook & Ladder would narrowly avoid the righteous flames that would swallow the block across the street later that summer. That I'd soon be sitting on my porch watching Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker put on their brave faces as they tried to make the best of streaming live sets in a musical landscape where artist and audience are forever separated by screens.<br />
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I've thought a lot this year about what live music truly means to me. Turns out it's a lot! And as much as I've grudgingly come to accept that not going out to see shows won't physically kill me, I also haven't stopped staring wistfully out the window of my home office in the direction of Turf Club. It's a genuine pain, and the closest I've been able to come to empathizing with the folks who've been agitating to go back to their in-person church services. They're still wrong, of course, but I understand the pain of being physically cut off from your houses of worship. The amounts I would pay to see Low play a Velvet Underground cover show right now could be best described as "unreasonable." <br />
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I've been listening a lot lately to The Complete Matrix Tapes, a sprawling box set covering two nights' worth of live Velvet Underground performances from 1969. As with any four-disc collection of live music, it has its hits and its misses, but in my book it's much heavier on the former. The undeniable highlight of the collection is a jittery rendition of "Sister Ray." That song is a 17-and-a-half minute masterpiece of churning squalor in its album version, and here it gets to blossom into a 37-minute epic that never comes close to wearing out its welcome. It's just an impeccable piece of work, starting with a slow chug of gentle Moe Tucker beats and meandering guitar and almost-whispered Lou Reed vocals, all steadily building to a frantic-yet-controlled swell that climaxes with Moe pounding out gunshots on her kit as Lou deadpans couplets about Cecil and his new piece and an electric organ gurgles menacingly. It's a thing of glory, a document of a band at the height of its powers pushing the envelope anywhere they can cram it. And, as I mentioned, it goes on for a full 37 minutes.<br />
<br /><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_RPCI2H1sV4" width="560"></iframe> <div>It's a common music nerd trope to fantasize about what concerts you would choose if you had a chance to go see any band in history. While I love too much music to ever give you a definitive answer, that performance of "Sister Ray" is absolutely near the top of my list. As joyous and visceral as it was to watch a band I cherish recreate the Velvet Underground experience in 2019, being front and center in 1969 watching the genuine article mess with people's heads for 37 minutes sounds like legitimate bliss. Even now, listening on a pair of cheap Panasonic earbuds as I write this, this extended "Sister Ray" is tearing my head apart. I have to imagine witnessing it live would reduce me to tears at the very least.<br />
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But here's a curious thing: when "Sister Ray" finally ends after the Velvets have spent one-39th of a day playing it, the crowd doesn't erupt in applause. They don't sit in stunned silence or start shouting angry insults either. They do something much more baffling than any of those options: they clap politely. <br />
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Now, I understand that it was 1969 and those were different times, but I've heard more than enough concert recordings of the era to know that uproarious applause was definitely an option. If the San Franciscans watching that show had been sufficiently moved by the previous 37 minutes, they would have screamed and hollered and demanded more. But they weren't. They watched one of history's greatest musical combos destroy the parameters of what a live song could or should be, and their reaction was to give them a nice hand. <br />
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Obviously the folks attending that show back in 1969 didn't know they were bearing witness to history, that the band they put down a few bucks to go see would eventually stand alongside the defining artists of their era. They were just out to see that hip New York band who palled around with Andy Warhol. A good portion of that crowd probably went out to the venue that night not knowing quite what to expect and were therefore unprepared to watch 37 minutes of repetitive improvisation. I would guess many of them didn't know quite how to react to what they saw on stage, and a good number of them were likely bored or unimpressed by it. In that light, a tepid round of applause makes a bit more sense. <br />
<br />When I go out to see a buzzed-about newer act, I evaluate their shows in a similar context. I don't go in expecting to be blown away the way I would with, for instance, a Low show, where I have a deep knowledge of the band's musical catalog and years of seeing them slay live on which to base my expectations. That mindset can either elevate or detract from my show-going experience. <br />
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For instance, I regard King Tuff at Turf Club as one of the best live shows I've seen in recent years, but I know that's partly because I started dipping into his music only a week or so before seeing him play and came in not knowing quite what to expect. On the other side of the coin, I was mildly disappointed seeing Wolf Alice, largely because I'd spent the weeks leading up to the show watching footage of the band playing electrifying sets at massive outdoor festivals, and that specific energy is hard to translate to a weeknight indoor set at First Avenue. <br />
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The crowning example of this phenomenon for me is the sole time I was able to see Lou Reed live. If you're bothering to read this, you likely already know that Lou is my all-time musical guidepost, an artist whose work grabbed me by the soul as a young teenager and has twined through my life at every stage. I would not exist as you know me today without Lou Reed. Obviously, that equates to some unreasonably lofty expectations for a live performance. <br />
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I couldn't have been more hyped when I got to see Lou play the Orpheum in Minneapolis on his <i>Ecstasy</i> tour in 2000, even though I had fairly lousy seats in the balcony (I was 21 and working in a sandwich shop at the time, so affording tickets at all was an indulgence). In hindsight, I realize that the evening could only have gone two ways: either Lou would nail me to the wall with a life-changing performance, or I'd come away mildly disappointed but glad to have had the experience. Of course it turned out to be the latter. It was a good show and I remember it clearly, but it didn't transform my soul or open the doors of perception. Lou played the hits and the new album, bantered minimally, and got the job done. I couldn't reasonably have asked for more from him, no matter how much I wanted to. When the show was over, I applauded politely. <br />
<br /><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/znMiSKupLHM" width="560"></iframe> </div><div>(On the other hand, Lou's opener that night was Victoria Williams, another artist I revere but didn't place nearly as high an expectation upon, and she absolutely killed it with a warm and witty and genial show that made me feel like I was just hanging out in her backyard.)<br />
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So where am I going with this ramble? I'm not entirely sure. This most uncertain of years has had a way of shifting my focus, making things that once seemed like hard truths more malleable than I would've thought possible. I suppose what I'm trying to get at is how much a year without the succor of live music has made me reflect on exactly what that experience means to me. Seeing how quickly something that means so much to my personal identity and well-being can simply disappear, seeing the institutions I love the most shuttered by sickness, seeing Turf Club looted and flooded, the Hexagon Bar gutted by flames, Hook & Ladder and the Schooner Tavern narrowly avoiding the same fates, watching the artists I love reduced to streaming awkward sets from their living rooms and closets and empty nightclubs… <br />
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It all makes the relativism of what is and isn't worthy of vigorous applause melt away, at least temporarily. I know I'm far too much of a crank and a critic to ever say that I'm going to follow Warren Zevon's advice and enjoy every sandwich once the music venues open back up. I'm sure it won't take long for me to fall right back into my usual practice of grousing about set lists and bad crowds and sound mixes. But I can say without reservation that whenever I do get the privilege of setting foot inside Turf Club once again, it won't matter who is on stage or what kind of show they put on. I am going to cheer as loud and long and earnestly as I would after watching the Velvet Underground reel off 37 minutes of "Sister Ray" on a Thursday night in 1969. I'm going to cheer as if my life depended on it, because damn it, a good portion of it does.
</div></div>Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-37079663882431836232020-03-02T00:22:00.000-06:002020-03-05T22:58:28.938-06:00Let's check in on "Sick of You," Lou Reed's most prophetic protest song<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">Lou Reed's <i>New York</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">One of the bigger challenges with
writing a protest song is that there aren’t many genres that age more poorly.
Write in broad enough strokes to make your song evergreen and you risk making
it feel trite and generic. Include too many time-stamped specifics and you risk
tying it so tightly to its era and issues that future generations will view it
only as nostalgia or history. Sure, there are plenty of examples of timeless
protest tunes, but they’re the exceptions to the rule. For every blistering
snapshot of angst and injustice like Neil Young’s “Ohio” there are a dozen
clunky reminders of bygone zeitgeist like Neil Young’s “Let’s Impeach the
President.”</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">That brings us to </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">New York</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">, simultaneously one of the most beloved and the
most dated albums in the Lou Reed canon. Released in 1989, it’s intentionally a
work very much of its time and place. While it isn’t quite a concept album, it is an inextricably interwoven tapestry of songs about Lou Reed’s home city as it was in the final throes of its grimy, pre-Giuliani existence. </span></span><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">As such, a lot of the album is so deeply nested in the specifics of 1989 as to be
borderline indecipherable to modern audiences who have no idea who, say, Jimmy Swaggart or Kurt Waldheim were. That’s part of the charm for music fans with a sense of history — you don’t need to be a Nixon scholar to appreciate Gil-Scott Heron slipping a song into John Mitchell’s suggestion box, or be well-versed in fringe political cults to dig Bob Dylan lashing out at the John Birch Society — but it can also be a little daunting for the casual observer.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">With all of that in mind, let’s take a look at “Sick of You,” one of the most reference-heavy tracks from</span><span style="color: black;"> </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">New York</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">.<span style="color: #444444;"> </span>As a grotesque protest song that sprays scattershot digs at an array of New York politicians and public figures of the late 1980s, “Sick of You” should hold up fairly terribly. And yet, via some twisted act of fate or bad karma, it stands as a largely relevant, and even prescient, work of cultural observation that’s almost as pertinent today as it was three decades ago. Not all of it holds up to a modern audience, and in fact some of it was fairly inscrutable even at the time, but hell, what oracle doesn’t forecast a few hazy futures every now and then?</span></span><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="color: black;">Verse one</span></b></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I was up in the morning with the TV blaring</span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">brush my teeth, sitting watching the news</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">All the beaches were closed, the ocean was a Red Sea</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">but there was no one there to part it in two</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>There was no fresh salad because there's hypos in the cabbage</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">Staten Island disappeared at noon</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">And they say the Midwest is in great distress</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">and NASA blew up the moon</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">The ozone layer has no ozone anymore</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">and you're gonna leave me for the guy next door</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>I'm sick of you</i></span><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">Right off the bat, we’re hit with some grim environmental observations. Water-based environmentalism is a running thread throughout </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">New York</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">, popping up in “Romeo Had Juliette,” “Last Great American Whale,” and “Hold On” as well. Red tides and mass fish die-offs certainly haven’t tapered off in the past 30 years, so we can count this as pretty timeless. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Somewhat less so: the reference to Moses, which in 1989 would almost certainly have doubled as a dig at late NRA figurehead Charlton Heston. Not that Heston’s
legacy has aged the least bit well, but he’s not at the forefront of many people’s thoughts nowadays.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">Tainted food is as big a concern as it has been for decades, with the current
administration gutting the FDA’s oversight of the industry. And of course genetically modified food products remain a hot-button issue on both ends of the spectrum, especially as Midwestern farmers face multiple levels of distress. The ozone layer, on the other hand, wound up going down as one of the bigger success stories of ‘90s environmentalism. As for NASA blowing up the moon, it’s hard to say what that’s all about, but perhaps we can withhold a verdict until Space Force is up and running.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="color: black;">Verse two</span></b></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">They arrested the Mayor for an illegal favor</span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">sold the Empire State to Japan</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">And Oliver North married William Secord</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">and gave birth to a little Teheran</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">And the Ayatollah bought a nuclear warhead</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">if he dies he wants to go out in style</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">And there's nothing to eat that don't carry the stink</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">of some human waste dumped in the Nile</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">Well one thing is certainly true</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">no one here knows what to do</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>I'm sick of you</i></span><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">Here we start off dated with a slap at longtime mayor Ed Koch (who was never, it should be noted, arrested for anything of the sort), and a reference to America’s brief but intense fear of/fascination with a supposed Japanese takeover via technological innovation and savvy business practices. </span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">Then it’s on to Reagan-era hatchetman Oliver North, loathed by the left as a traitor and lionized by the right as a patriot. Of all the players mentioned in “Sick of You,” North would seem one of the least likely to have maintained relevance for all these years, but there he is, still riling up the base as a right-wing radio host with an abundance of abhorrent opinions. Why exactly Lou married him off to William Secord, founder of a NYC gallery of 19th-century dog paintings (!) and probably the album’s most hyper-specific name-check, is anybody’s guess. Even that reference, though, is infused with some unexpected modern-day resonance thanks to Laurie Anderson’s gorgeous film </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Heart of a Dog</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">, which uses the deaths of her beloved pet dog and her husband Lou Reed as a framework for examining the meanings of art, spirituality, and life itself.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">Speaking of folks with unexpected staying power, the Ayatollah may have changed but the issue of Iranian nuclear capability sure hasn’t gone away. In fact, those particular sabers are currently rattling almost as loudly as they were back in </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">New York </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">times. And going back to water pollution, the Nile remains plenty troubled.</span></span><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="color: black;">Verse three</span></b></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">The radio said there were 400 dead</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">in some small town in Arkansas</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">Some whacked-out trucker</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">drove into a nuclear reactor</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">and killed everybody he saw</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">Now he's on Morton Downey</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">and he's glowing and shining</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">doctors say this is a medical advance</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">They say the bad makes the good</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">and there's something to be learned </span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">in every human experience</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">Well I know one thing that really is true</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">This here's a zoo and the keeper ain't you</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">And I'm sick of it </span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;"><i>I'm sick of you</i></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s been a while since we had a good old-fashioned nuclear accident, but the success of <i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Chernobyl </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">last year shows that it’s not that far removed from our collective consciousness. Whacked-out people using trucks for homicidal purposes, on the other hand, are considerably more prevalent now than they were in 1989. </span></span><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Morton Downey has been dead for years and is about as 1989 as a reference gets, but he’s arguably one of the founding fathers of the current age of online journalism. Downey would have thrived in the age of clickbait. It’s not hard to imagine any number of YouTubers fighting it out to give a forum to a radioactive mass murderer, nor is it tough to picture the establishment scrambling to explain to us why this is in fact a good thing for us on the whole. Yet again, Lou traffics in universals.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="color: #222222;">Verse four</span></b></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">They ordained the Trumps</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">and then he got the mumps</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">and died being treated at Mt. Sinai</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">And my best friend Bill</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">died from a poison pill</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">some wired doctor prescribed for stress</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">My arms and legs are shrunk</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">the food all has lumps</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">They discovered some animal no one's ever seen</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">It was a inside trader eating a rubber tire</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">after running over Rudy Giuliani</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">They say the president's dead</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">but no one can find his head</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">It's been missing now for weeks</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">But no one noticed it</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;">he has seemed so fit</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #222222;"><i>and I'm sick of it</i></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">OK, now we’re in the thick of it. Donald Trump was a big deal back in 1989 and has gone on to some notable personal successes in the subsequent decades. Neither he nor his then-wife Ivanna has, to my knowledge, thus far been ordained by any sanctioned religious body. There has, however, been the occasional suggestion that his partisans have come to regard him with a certain deity-ish dedication — some manner of “chosen one,” if you will. As for the mumps business, Lou seems to have missed the boat on this point, although it should be noted that this piece is being written on the cusp of a pandemic.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #444444;">Speaking of epidemics, that doctor-prescribed poison pill Lou mentions? I'll refer you to your local opioid task force.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Moving </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">right along, remember inside traders? They were all the rage in 1989 but Martha </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Stewart effectively killed the brand back in ‘04. But about that guy said </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">trader ran over — at the time of “Sick of You,” Rudy was a flashy U.S. </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Attorney who’d presided over some high profile cases, including a celebrated </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mafia takedown. He was also in the process of running for mayor of New York </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">City, a job he’d ultimately lose to David Dinkins. But folks, Rudy casts a </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">mighty long shadow. He eventually recast himself as the destroyer of much of </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">the seedy New York weirdness that Lou Reed chronicled so love/hatingly. He is </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">currently tasked with helping the president find his head, and is plainly doing </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">a bang-up job of it. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">So what do we make of all of this Lou Reed prognostication 30 years on? And what would Lou himself think about the ongoing relevance of <i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">New York </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">in the post-Dinkins/Giuliani/Bloomberg/Bush/Clinton/Bush/Obama/Jeter/9-11/Sandy/Lou Reed era? </span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Only Lou’s wandering ghost can say for sure, but I’m going to guess he’d be sick of it.</span><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-16456264408224507992019-03-02T00:00:00.002-06:002021-03-02T16:52:08.106-06:00Let's talk about Lou Reed yelling about possums for 18 minutes<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">I’ve never in my life anticipated an album release more eagerly than I did Lou Reed’s </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Ecstasy</span></i><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="white-space: pre-wrap;">. For starters, it was only the second album Lou had put out since I’d been old and aware enough to get excited about new albums. Of course I’d purchased </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Set the Twilight Reeling </span></i><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="white-space: pre-wrap;">the day it dropped in 1996 at my local Electric Avenue store (because Best Buy bizarrely had it labeled as “You must be 18 to purchase,” presumably because it contained a song called “Sex with Your </span><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Parents”), but my self-hyping in that case was limited to reading reviews in </span><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="white-space: pre-wrap;">music magazines and watching Lou make the rounds on the late night talk shows. When </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Ecstasy </span></i><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="white-space: pre-wrap;">was coming out in 2000, on the other hand, I had </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">the internet</span></i><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Unsurprisingly, Lou Reed had a sizable web presence in those nascent days of home computing. His website was updated regularly with tidbits and teasers for the forthcoming album, and I ate it all up. I listened to the primitive pre-release streams of “Paranoia Key of E” and “Modern Dance” obsessively and checked the page multiple times a day. I’m certain my then-girlfriend (and current wife), who’d long since given up on feigning enthusiasm for my Lou Reed fanboyism, was almost as eager for <i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Ecstasy</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> to drop as I was, just to stop my constant stream of speculation.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">When it finally hit, it was, probably inevitably, everything I’d been waiting for and simultaneously also a bit of a letdown. Remember when <i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Kid A </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">came out and half your hipster friends were like, “It’s really good but it’s no </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">OK Computer</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">” and the other half were like “This makes </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">OK Computer</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> totally irrelevant”? It was kind of like that, except with </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Ecstasy </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">vs. any number of previous Lou Reed records standing in for the two Radiohead albums and me taking both sides of the argument because I’m pretty sure I was the only 21-year-old in the year 2000 attaching Radiohead-level expectations to a new Lou Reed album. </span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I loved most of it right out of the gate, of course. “Paranoia Key of E” was exactly the kind of literate, grimy rock groove Lou did best. “Future Farmers of America” was a sardonic flurry of social commentary. “Baton Rouge” was the saddest, prettiest song Lou had recorded since the Velvet Underground days. On the other hand there was “White Prism,” which opens with the line “There’s a white prism with phony jism / Spread across its face” and only gets more cringey from there. And there was “Rock Minuet,” an overblown wallow in depravity and degradation that’s always struck me as Lou trying way too hard to write another “Street Hassle.” (It was also, I believe, Lou’s favorite song on the album, which makes all kinds of sense.)</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">And then there was “Like a Possum.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">“Like a Possum,” in which Lou Reed yells about possums and rollerbladers and “one-night fucks” for a solid 18 minutes over a churning drone of distortion that never varies. “Like a Possum,” filled with imagery of crack-smokers and used condoms and “women with the butt that hurts.” “Like a Possum,” which exemplifies every accusation of ego and pretension Lou Reed detractors had been leveling against him for 45 years.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I fucking <i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">love </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">“Like a Possum.”</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I don’t believe I’m exaggerating if I say that, much as I love <i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Ecstasy </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">and regard it as a minor classic in the Lou Reed pantheon, I would love it just as much if not more if it had been just a full hour of “Like a Possum.” Lou’s opening bark of “Good morning! It’s POSSUM DAY!” should by all rights be a beloved American catchphrase. There should be theses written on Lou’s very gradual progression from feeling “like a possum” to feeling “calm as an angel.” </span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Hyperbole aside, I really do regard this song as a masterpiece. It combines the aggro sonic experimentation of <i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Metal Machine Music</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> with the bleak cityscapes of </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Street Hassle</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">, the doomed majesty of </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Berlin </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">and the defiant mourning of </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Magic and Loss</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">. It’s four Lou Reed masterpieces boiled down into one 18-minute, aurally challenging package. </span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Lyrically, it’s fairly familiar Lou Reed territory: a litany of ugly images of people doing ugly things in the ugly corners of New York City. That sort of thing was Lou’s stock in trade since the early days of The Velvet Underground, but few people ever did it better. The biggest thing setting “Like a Possum” apart on that front is the framing device. Before we get to the druggies and hustlers strolling the banks of the Hudson, we spend five minutes listening to the singer’s vision of himself as a possum, complete with “Possum whiskers, possum face, possum breath and a possum taste.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s never clearly defined what it means to be like a possum, nor whether that’s a good or bad thing to be. Given that possums are nocturnal scavengers who tend to creep around unseen, I feel I can make a reasonable guess, but the ambiguity is part of the appeal. There’s a lot of naked juxtaposition as the song churns on, blending crass couplets (“I got a hole in my heart the size of a truck / and it won't be filled by a one-night fuck”) with picturesque exclamations (“wouldn’t it be lovely?” and “calm as an angel”) and passages of terrifying introspection (“You know me I like to dance a lot / with different selves who cancel out one another”). The contrast between these lines is never presented for the sake of irony or shock value. They’re just the stream-of-consciousness truths of a human possum living on the edge.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">The most obvious knock someone could make against “Like a Possum” is that it does not, under any condition, need to be 18 minutes long. I can see people taking that position (especially regarding an album whose cover is a photo of Lou Reed masturbating), but my personal take is that, </span></span><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="white-space: pre-wrap;">a few live renditions notwithstanding,</span><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> it could not possibly be a second shorter. Lou Reed had a long history of putting out long, difficult songs, and each one served a different purpose. “Heroin” is a slow, loving build into chaos that mirrors a narcotic episode. “Sister Ray” is a frantic churn of madness that pushes the listener into an escalating frenzy. “Street Hassle” is a short story and a mini-opera told across multiple movements. “Metal Machine Music” is an endurance test of beautiful brutality.</span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">“Like a Possum” doesn’t fall neatly under any of those umbrellas, and I’d guess it has fewer defenders than any of those songs. I say it’s the equal of all of them. Yes, it’s a droning, repetitive trudge, both lyrically and musically, but that’s exactly the point. “Like a Possum” envelops you, pulls you inside its grimy orbit. There comes a moment where you’re fully inhabiting the song, and vice versa, and you forget what it was ever like to <i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">not </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">be listening to “Like a Possum.” Once you’ve crossed that threshold, you get it. You’re a possum. You’re calm as an angel.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I didn’t know it back in the year 2000, of course, but <i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Ecstasy </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">would turn out to be, in my estimation, the last true Lou Reed album. He put out three more studio albums, sure, but </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">The Raven </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">is a passion project that’s as much a theater piece as it is a record, </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Hudson River Wind Meditations</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> is a niche side project, and </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Lulu</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> is, y’know, all Metallica’d. </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Ecstasy </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">was the last time Lou Reed went out and did his full-on weird, unapologetic Lou Reed thing.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Maybe that’s another key to why I love “Like a Possum” so much: it’s such a deeply, thoroughly Lou Reed thing to do. It’s a song that makes zero attempt to win you over. You’re either in or you’re out. You’ll know for sure which side you fall on within the first two minutes, and then guess what? The song is going to keep on going for another 16, and if you disliked it in minute two, you’re going to <i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">hate </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">it by the end. And Lou doesn’t care, because it’s not for you. It’s for him and all the other possums out prowling the streets. It’s the epitome of Lou Reed in all his grimy glory.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">Good night, everybody. It’s possum day.</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-72763002213003128122019-02-05T11:11:00.003-06:002019-02-05T11:53:19.219-06:00The legend of DeWitt Lee, Arizona's mysterious homegrown double-threat<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bzRTRcuntvM/XFEA99ygYUI/AAAAAAAANYA/7KUpsI9bVHk2dYQfJDxesnhbRwNJBftfACLcBGAs/s1600/DeWitt%2BLee%2Bin%2BThe%2BLegend%2Bof%2BJedediah%2BCarver.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="DeWitt Lee in The Legend of Jedediah Carver" border="0" data-original-height="765" data-original-width="997" height="245" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bzRTRcuntvM/XFEA99ygYUI/AAAAAAAANYA/7KUpsI9bVHk2dYQfJDxesnhbRwNJBftfACLcBGAs/s320/DeWitt%2BLee%2Bin%2BThe%2BLegend%2Bof%2BJedediah%2BCarver.png" title="DeWitt Lee in The Legend of Jedediah Carver" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DeWitt Lee in <i>The Legend of Jedediah Carver </i>(1976)</td></tr>
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I'm a great fan of the output of Mill Creek Entertainment. They're the people behind those ultra-budget DVD sets you'll sometimes find in a bin at Walgreens or Menards and other places you don't generally think of as entertainment outlets, the ones with names like "50 Drive-In Classics" or "Flying Fists of Kung-Fu" or "John Wayne: Western Hero." These collections generally consist of forgotten films of bygone eras whose distribution rights can be had for cheap. While these packs almost always contain a few underrated gems, for the most part they're low-quality prints of equally low-quality movies. That being one of my favorite genres of cinema, they're tailor-made for creeps like me.<br />
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One of my favorite things to do with a Mill Creek set is to play a kind of movie roulette. I reach into the case and pull out a disc at random, pop it in my DVD player, and watch whatever comes up while I work out on my basement elliptical. That's how I came to watch <i>Apache Bloo</i>d, a 1975 film included on Mill Creek's "A Fistful of Bullets" spaghetti western collection. As it turns out, <i>Apache Blood</i> is not a spaghetti western at all, but rather an Old West survival story filmed in the deserts of Arizona, written by and starring a man by the name of DeWitt Lee. In the couple of weeks since I viewed <i>Apache Blood</i>, DeWitt Lee has occupied an ever-growing portion of my thoughts.<br />
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<i>Apache Blood</i> is not one of the aforementioned underrated gems. It's a cheaply made, thoroughly familiar, verrrrrry slow-moving story of a white tracker who gets mauled by a bear, left for dead by his Army buddies, and hunted across the desert by a vengeance-minded Apache warrior. (It's apparently taken from the same source material as <i>The Revenant</i>, which I haven't seen because I devote my time to watching things like <i>Apache Blood</i>.) The only notable name in the cast other than Lee is <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ray_Danton" target="_blank">Ray Danton</a>, a solid character actor who flirted with leading-man status in the early '60s. Here he's tasked with a non-speaking and racially problematic role as the titular Apache. Unsurprisingly, Danton retired from acting after this film and moved into a steady career as a TV director.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-msoqvnaB4jg/XFhvgtcVcMI/AAAAAAAANb4/hUyInIHDOMs3Togm3aFrigWRoj4VaO_LgCLcBGAs/s1600/Apache%2BBlood%2B1975.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="DeWitt Lee rises from his grave in Apache Blood (1975)" border="0" data-original-height="765" data-original-width="998" height="245" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-msoqvnaB4jg/XFhvgtcVcMI/AAAAAAAANb4/hUyInIHDOMs3Togm3aFrigWRoj4VaO_LgCLcBGAs/s320/Apache%2BBlood%2B1975.png" title="DeWitt Lee rises from his grave in Apache Blood (1975)" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DeWitt Lee rises from his grave in <i>Apache Blood </i>(1975)</td></tr>
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Even though it's decidedly not a very good film, <i>Apache Blood</i> is just the kind of regionally produced, shoestring-budgeted, handmade project that I hold dear. This was clearly a labor of love, a notion that was reinforced when I did a little research and found that DeWitt Lee followed it up with a 1976 film called <i>The Legend of Jedediah Carver</i> that seemed to have a near-identical plot. Lee, it seems, <i>really</i> wanted to tell the story of a dude barely surviving in the desert.<br />
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<i>The Legend of Jedediah Carver</i> is even more obscure than <i>Apache Blood </i>(TMDB didn't even have a listing for it until I created one), but I was able to track it down on YouTube. As it turns out, it's pretty close to a scene-for-scene remake with a new cast, save for Lee in the title role. The most noticeable differences are a larger (though still scanty) budget and DeWitt Lee replacing Vern Piehl in the director's chair. It isn't saying a whole lot, but Lee proves a much more technically skilled director than the barely competent Piehl. <i>Jedediah Carver</i> is decidedly the better-made film, but its (very) comparative slickness makes it slightly less engaging for a trash cinema lover such as myself.<br />
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Having dug this far, I was more or less compelled to keep the ball rolling by watching <i>Ransom Money</i>, a 1970 thriller that is the only other film credit I've found for DeWitt Lee. It's the only one of the three where Lee wears just one hat, making his directorial debut while neither writing nor acting. It's also the most star-powered of his three features, with aging Oscar-winner Broderick Crawford headlining as a legendary and grumpy detective called in to investigate the kidnapping of a wealthy widow's young son from the Grand Canyon. Future Maytag man and <i>WKRP</i> star Gordon Jump plays the Phoenix detective heading up the search, which is complicated by the kidnapper's godlike command of cutting edge technology.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xalxr0B8EM4/XFhwyIs_6XI/AAAAAAAANcE/7KrtbZoW7uQkzmBvAnCUqvgItJ9jonuQACLcBGAs/s1600/Ransom%2BMoney%2B1970.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="The dynamic duo of Gordon Jump and Broderick Crawford in Ransom Money (1970)" border="0" data-original-height="924" data-original-width="1228" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xalxr0B8EM4/XFhwyIs_6XI/AAAAAAAANcE/7KrtbZoW7uQkzmBvAnCUqvgItJ9jonuQACLcBGAs/s320/Ransom%2BMoney%2B1970.png" title="The dynamic duo of Gordon Jump and Broderick Crawford in Ransom Money (1970)" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gordon Jump and Broderick Crawford in <i>Ransom Money </i>(1970)</td></tr>
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<i>Ransom Money </i>is quite watchable but pretty dumb, and the tiny bit of information I've found about it online suggests that it was a bit of a bummer for DeWitt Lee. One unsubstantiated anecdote claims that Broderick Crawford was so displeased with his experience on the shoot that he quit mid-filming. (That would explain why his character is abruptly killed off in an off-screen car accident late in the movie.) Still, Lee comes off as a competent director with a good feel for his Southwestern surroundings. Lord knows I've come across plenty of far worse directors with far better-known bodies of work.<br />
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With <i>Ransom Money</i>, I'd reached the end of the DeWitt Lee filmography, at least according to every database I've been able to find. I did, however, unearth a different branch of his trail.<br />
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Turns out film wasn't DeWitt Lee's only artistic avenue. He released at least two Country-Western singles in the 1960s. The first, from 1960, features a blatant but quite enjoyable knock-off of "16 Tons" called <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8cq07_qagk&t=9s" target="_blank">"Poor Man,"</a> backed with a goofy little party tune called <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d6W7G0jFhP4" target="_blank">"How Nice."</a> Lee's second single, from 1967, goes a little more straitlaced with the mournful cowboy ballad <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OgkTaoJtM0I" target="_blank">"Six White Horses" </a>(not to be confused with Tommy Cash's 1970 hit of the same name) backed with a folk-tinged number called <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=emhBBW3J8mE&t=74s" target="_blank">"Call Me Mister Blue."</a> None of these songs is groundbreaking stuff, but they're all solid, workmanlike entries in the '60s country canon.<br />
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These singles are clearly the work of the same DeWitt Lee. I can tell this not only because they were released on Arizona-based labels and maintain a similar fascination with Western themes, but also because "How Nice" pops up on a car radio in <i>Ransom Money</i>. As a great fan of low-budget directors slipping plugs for their other work into their movies, I gotta love that hustle.<br />
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Beyond those three films and two singles, the legend of DeWitt Lee seems to be enveloped in total obscurity. Did he retire from filmmaking after <i>Jedediah Carver</i>? Did he do more creative work under a different name? Is he still living? Still obsessed with desert survival stories? Did he see <i>The Revenant</i>? I don't have answers to any of these questions, and I may never.<br />
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Regardless, I'm glad that I've been able to delve into his work over the past month. (Heck, at this point I may be the world's leading authority on the DeWitt Lee canon.) While it's true that I wouldn't recommend his movies to 99% of my social circle, and his music is probably of interest to Classic Country heads only, I cherish both bodies of work. I'm endlessly impressed with artists working outside of the system with modest means who manage to get their visions realized. Whatever your take on their quality, DeWitt Lee made three feature films and at least four songs on his home turf, and they're all still in some form of circulation today. That's something on which to hang one's hat. I'm thrilled that I could bear witness to that legacy. I live for this kind of thing.<br />
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<br />Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-85388068445609373742019-01-14T18:39:00.000-06:002019-01-21T17:45:12.417-06:00A requiem for "Spontaneanation," Paul F. Tompkins' podcast utopia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DP6CnNeBo_k/XD0qWvA6TvI/AAAAAAAANPQ/PIPykLL_SIsLuUzfcTV6yFaB_M9MNniVQCLcBGAs/s1600/spontaneanation_logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: #cccccc; color: #444444;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DP6CnNeBo_k/XD0qWvA6TvI/AAAAAAAANPQ/PIPykLL_SIsLuUzfcTV6yFaB_M9MNniVQCLcBGAs/s320/spontaneanation_logo.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: #cccccc; color: #444444; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I started today the same way I have nearly every Monday for the past five years or so, by opening up my podcast app and downloading the new episodes of </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Comedy Bang Bang</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Spontaneanation</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Next week will be the last time I’ll be able to say that, because next week Paul F. Tompkins is bringing </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://www.earwolf.com/show/spontaneanation-with-paul-f-tompkins/" target="_blank">Spontaneanation</a></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to an end. I am more than melancholy about this prospect.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cccccc; color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-88a262a4-7fff-bcf4-96e9-b3c53b48326d"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline;">I first got into comedy podcasts via the same route I presume most people take: via an undemanding day job involving plenty of mindless tasks and downtime. I started out listening to the audio of old </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline;">Dr. Katz </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline;">episodes on YouTube, which led me to dig into the guest comedians’ other material, which led me to some of Paul F. Tompkins’ stand-up sets, which led me to Paul F. Tompkins playing characters on </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline;">Comedy Bang Bang</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline;">. I don’t recall exactly what my first PFT clip was — knowing my own clickbait parameters, it was probably one of his bits as Ice-T or John C. Reilly — but I was sold pretty much immediately. </span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Discovering</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Comedy Bang Bang </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">was easily the most important development in my comedy education at least since the debut of </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Arrested Development</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, and probably reaching farther back than that. Scott Aukerman’s dizzy blend of casual conversation, bone-deep irony, and untethered improv rewired my brain and tickled funny bones I never even knew I had. It was nothing short of a religious experience for me. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Other than Aukerman himself, no performer played a bigger role in my conversion than Paul F. Tompkins. An effortless and seemingly tireless improviser, PFT has spent much of the last decade building a reputation as </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">the</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> podcast comedian. He’s been on everybody’s show, from reliable chart-toppers to relative obscurities. He’s both a ubiquitous presence and one of the industry’s best gets — I’ve heard a number of hosts mention that his appearances are far and away their highest-rated episodes.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Over the past nine years PFT has been the most frequent guest on </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Comedy Bang Bang</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, usually playing a character ranging from a playfully snobbish take on Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber to a buttoned-up rendition of Captain “Sully” Sullenberger to my personal favorite, a sad-sack “soup-bubble artist” named Big Chunky Bubbles. No one is a more reliably hilarious guest, even on a show that regularly features certifiable improv geniuses like Andy Daly, Lauren Lapkus, Brendon Small, and an inexhaustible list of other names that make comedy nerds swoon.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When Tompkins launched his very own improv podcast in the Spring of 2015, then, I was giddy with anticipation. I was too late to the table for his beloved previous venture, </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Pod F. Tompcast</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, but I was a great fan of his work hosting the English-major catnip </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dead Authors Podcast</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. My anticipation for </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Spontaneanation </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">was probably unreasonably high, but the show wound up meeting and even exceeding my expectations. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unlike his previous podcast, which involved a great deal of editing and post-production, Tompkins devised </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Spontaneanation </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">explicitly as a “free-form conversation” — several of them, actually — that would flow naturally into a long-form improv scene at the end of the show. A standard episode opens with a brief, improvised monologue, often touching on pet Tompkins topics (tompics?) like linguistic oddities, weird chapters in history, or the nefarious secret lives of birds. Next up is a one-on-one conversation with a special guest about a topic suggested by the previous episode’s guest, followed by short interviews with the week’s roster of improvisers (usually a three-person crew but ranging from one to six). The final 20 minutes or so is a continuous long-form improv scene that usually draws on topics discussed in the interview segments. And it’s all scored on piano by Mr. Eban Schletter, a fantastic composer and musical improviser whose ability to pick up a verbal cue and shift into an allusive tune is astonishing.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s a pretty simple format, elevated by the uniquely charming presence of Paul F. Tompkins. Beyond being one of his era’s most gifted comedians, the man is a natural interviewer who seems to be genuinely liked by nearly everyone who comes into his orbit. His interview subjects are mostly comedians, but can encompass anyone from writers to wrestlers to musicians like Robyn Hitchcock, Aimee Mann, and Open Mike Eagle. PFT guides each interview with the deft touch of a journalist, intuitively sussing out the most interesting avenues to follow and keeping his guests candid and comfortable. Even when the intro question doesn’t resonate with a particular guest, Tompkins can almost always steer the conversation into fruitful territory. (The most notable and hilarious exception being a young spelling bee champion who would </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">not</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> be coaxed into anything beyond monosyllables.)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I used to harbor the standard artistic fantasy of what I would say on stage when I accepted my first Oscar. A few years ago I changed focus to what question I’d ask the following guest when I appeared on </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Spontaneanation</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, along with how I’d answer each week’s new question. Those questions have ranged from the benign (“What kind of small business would you like to own?”) to the evocative (“Does everyone deserve to be heard?”) to the barely coherent (“What about baseball?”) and every one has given me plenty to think about. However unlikely, I always harbored a hope that I’d accomplish something noteworthy enough to find myself sitting across the table from PFT, providing fodder for some of the world’s finest improvisers.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve always been the type who identifies too much with my choices of entertainment, thinking about characters from books and TV shows almost like real friends. Podcasts take that delusion to a different level. There’s a specific intimacy that comes with inviting a familiar group of voices directly into your ear canals on a weekly basis. That makes me genuinely distraught at the thought of losing my weekly appointment with not just Paul F. Tompkins, but also his cast of recurring improvisers.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Some I was already acquainted with from their other podcast and comedy work (Matt Gourley, Marc Evan Jackson, Sarah Burns, Craig Cackowski, Erinn Hayes, Eugene Cordero, Chris Tallman, Mark McConville, Gary Anthony Williams). Some were new commodities with whom I became quickly infatuated (Amanda Lund, Maria Blasucci, Coleen Smith, Carl Tart, Tim Baltz, Tawny Newsom, Jean Villepique, Chris Grace. Little Janet Varney!). Throughout the show’s run, and in the last couple of years especially, PFT has shown a strong dedication to providing a forum for comedians of color, LGBTQ* performers, artists with disabilities, and anyone else who’s traditionally underrepresented in the comedy arena. I’m going to miss every one of them.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">t isn’t as though I’m going to be hurting for entertainment in the absence of </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Spontaneanation</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. I currently have at least a dozen comedy podcasts in my weekly rotation, many with deep archives that I haven’t worked my way through yet. I have complex emotional relationships with each of them, but there are times when I'm simply not mentally ready to dig into the gonzo experimentation of <i>improv4humans</i>, the arch irony of <i>Hollywood Handbook</i>, even the infectious optimism of <i>Off Book</i>. That's a big reason why </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Spontaneanation </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">has occupied a particular place in my heart f</span></span><span style="background-color: #cccccc; color: #444444; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">or the past four years</span><span style="background-color: #cccccc; color: #444444; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">More than any other podcast, this one has been a stabilizing presence for me, a true hangout show that comforts me in times of trouble. It’s definitely not a show that avoids dark comedy or adult themes, but it’s by and large a friendly, welcoming kind of comedy that I can wrap myself up in like an audio blanket. It’s the show I turn to during traumas and bouts of depression, when I need an hour or so away from the demands of the real world. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">On election night of 2016, for instance, my brain wouldn’t allow me more than a couple hours of terror-sleep. Everything seemed soured and grim. I couldn’t watch TV, couldn’t listen to music, couldn’t even fix myself a drink. I got out of bed at 3am, opened my podcast app and loaded up four hours’ worth of back episodes. I spent the morning before my family woke up cleaning the house obsessively as I immersed myself in the only nation that seemed to make sense anymore: a place called </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Spontaneanation</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m excited to see what Paul F. Tompkins does next, but I’ll be feeling this gap for a while. Thanks for all the good times, Paul, and </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">semper in praesenti</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to you and yours.</span></span><br />
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Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-32814856907912449692018-12-24T23:02:00.005-06:002020-12-19T13:27:23.473-06:00Please welcome "Christmas with Dennis," your new favorite holiday tradition<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> <iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9QEa4bmcefo" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen></iframe> <span style="background-color: #cccccc; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m going to state with confidence that Dennis Awe isn’t part of your annual Christmas tradition. If you’re in the demographic that’s likely to read this blog, you probably have no idea who Dennis Awe even is. My friends, I’m here to rectify both of those situations.</span></div></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" id="docs-internal-guid-cfe343f1-7fff-7f56-cb70-cb3c0cad3163" style="background-color: #cccccc;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">See, earlier this week I stumbled upon a 1988 video release entitled </span><a href="https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2cdlqp" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Christmas with Dennis</span></a><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, and my take on holiday entertainment will never be quite the same again. </span><span style="font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Christmas with Dennis </span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">is a thing of wonder, a weird, hypnotic product both endearingly handmade and impressively professional. I’ll warn you right now: the words and images I’m going to share with you here are going to make you think I’m celebrating this film ironically, but I assure you I am not. I love </span><span style="font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Christmas with Dennis </span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">from the bottom of my heart.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kspDfVMQleo/XCG1YC6mDfI/AAAAAAAANGQ/42T_7po0MAsq38JOCDr_9SZUPsrBFsPCQCLcBGAs/s1600/Dennis%2Bsmiles.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="606" data-original-width="811" height="239" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kspDfVMQleo/XCG1YC6mDfI/AAAAAAAANGQ/42T_7po0MAsq38JOCDr_9SZUPsrBFsPCQCLcBGAs/s320/Dennis%2Bsmiles.png" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: x-small;">This is Dennis, and he will make your season bright.</span></td></tr>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">A bespectacled man in a frilly, sequined suit exuberantly plays Christmas standards on an electric organ in a faux-living room. The camera occasionally zooms, fades, and/or very slowly dissolves to the dozens of mildly tacky Christmas decorations surrounding him. A toy train circles listlessly in the background. Dennis beams and gyrates and legit kills it on the keys. It is all mesmerizing.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dHLjx2Wh-04/XCG2RMkIDBI/AAAAAAAANG0/yyuvEjTCcusFjY3T_exri1wmp6CntDJDQCLcBGAs/s1600/Dennis%2Band%2Bpuppet.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: #cccccc; color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="603" data-original-width="809" height="238" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dHLjx2Wh-04/XCG2RMkIDBI/AAAAAAAANG0/yyuvEjTCcusFjY3T_exri1wmp6CntDJDQCLcBGAs/s320/Dennis%2Band%2Bpuppet.png" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;">There are puppets in this.</span></span></td></tr>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: #cccccc;"><br />Then 17 minutes in Dennis starts bantering with a stuffed monster puppet and the world explodes. The monster sings a duet. A stuffed yeti wobbles around a rug. Dennis's sister DyAnne drops by in an equally sequined cocktail dress to play a couple of numbers. We watch her feet working the pedals for what seems a very long time. There is an indescribable appearance by Frosty the Snowman. In the final 30 seconds we get some even less describable special effects. It's a downright psychedelic experience.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jn88goqd4tY/XCG1rQ3vSvI/AAAAAAAANGc/2AQ4NNVGEVEZ0xpL42KmVnDK18uk0lt4wCEwYBhgL/s1600/Angel%2Bdissolve.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: #cccccc; color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="800" height="246" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jn88goqd4tY/XCG1rQ3vSvI/AAAAAAAANGc/2AQ4NNVGEVEZ0xpL42KmVnDK18uk0lt4wCEwYBhgL/s320/Angel%2Bdissolve.png" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: x-small;">There is a lot to unpack in this and every frame of this film.</span></td></tr>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><br /></span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="white-space: normal;">Do not think for one moment that I'm being ironic when I say this is one of my favorite things I've seen all year. I sat down to this movie thinking, "Oh, this'll be an interesting little thing to have on in the background while I do other things" and then stayed riveted to my screen for 70 minutes. My jaw physically dropped more than once watching this.</span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-asVAZhu33tI/XCG2c4CCSRI/AAAAAAAANG4/SD3dLGmXbUAkvxCIoEIA1hL5XjrKr5fLACLcBGAs/s1600/Dennis%2Bdissolve.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: #cccccc; color: black; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="793" height="245" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-asVAZhu33tI/XCG2c4CCSRI/AAAAAAAANG4/SD3dLGmXbUAkvxCIoEIA1hL5XjrKr5fLACLcBGAs/s320/Dennis%2Bdissolve.png" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: x-small;">A classic double-Dennis-exposure.</span></td></tr>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-21787331-7fff-e48a-f1b0-2ffce6713699"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: #cccccc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="white-space: normal;">Strange stuff happens in </span><i style="white-space: normal;">Christmas with Dennis</i><span style="white-space: normal;"> and it's beautiful. You'd think you can maybe skip ahead during some of Dennis's organ solos (95% of the film is Dennis's organ solos) but you </span><i style="white-space: normal;">can't</i><span style="white-space: normal;"> because you </span><i style="white-space: normal;">will</i><span style="white-space: normal;"> miss something remarkable, be it a slow fade to a vaguely discernible field of snow, a slow zoom on a Bing Crosby ornament as </span><i style="white-space: normal;">White Christmas </i><span style="white-space: normal;">fades out, DyAnne flashing you a soul-stealing wink the moment you least expect it, or one of the many nightmarish half-dissolves superimposing Dennis's hands over Dennis's face.</span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gr-H_c3l3Vc/XCG13BRJjBI/AAAAAAAANGk/I2dbToD1pfA23DBtXFmAc_lqTTYbB1u0ACLcBGAs/s1600/DyAnne%2Bwinks.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: #cccccc; color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="613" data-original-width="792" height="247" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gr-H_c3l3Vc/XCG13BRJjBI/AAAAAAAANGk/I2dbToD1pfA23DBtXFmAc_lqTTYbB1u0ACLcBGAs/s320/DyAnne%2Bwinks.png" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: x-small;">DyAnne has got your number.</span></td></tr>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: #cccccc;"><br />And it all works because Dennis <span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">— </span><a href="https://dennisawe.com/" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">who still performs and maintains an active web presence</span></a><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> —</span>and his crew mean every breath of it. You can call it outsider art if you want, but it's unmistakably a professional production. There's not a flubbed note nor a missed cue to be found, because this is what Dennis does. This is what Dennis is. This film exists at the crossroads where unbridled schmaltz turns the corner into aching sincerity. You can laugh at <i>Christmas with Dennis</i> if you need to. Dennis won't care. Dennis is here to <i>entertain</i>.</span><br />
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="background-color: #cccccc;"><br />Dennis is the realest shit you will ever see on screen.</span></div>
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Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-45056365895017396032018-03-02T00:02:00.000-06:002018-12-20T15:03:01.268-06:00Here are 13 songs about Lou Reed<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Luke Haines' "Lou Reed Lou Reed"</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><i>Considering how many artists have
been influenced by Lou Reed over the past five decades, it’s somewhat
surprising that there haven’t been a couple of hundred songs written about the
guy. Still, quite a few musicians have paid homage to, taken potshots at, or
otherwise name-checked Mr. Reed over the years. For my annual Lou Reed’s
birthday offering, I’ve compiled a smattering of the most interesting (which
doesn’t necessarily mean “best”) songs about Lou.</i></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;"><b>Luke Haines - “Lou Reed Lou Reed”</b></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">A snide shard of New Wave attitude, this cut from veteran British weirdo Haines’s stellar 2014 </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">New York in the ‘70s</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> album actually feels like something Lou would have given his seal of approval. The big hook is Haines chanting “Lou Reed, Lou Reed” over and over while backed by droning synthesizers, a bouncy guitar line, and a drum beat Maureen Tucker would write off as too primitive. It’s fun as hell. (I recommend watching the music video, incidentally. It’s delightfully silly.)</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;"><b>LoveyDove - “Lou Reed (Don’t Leave)”</b></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">Gosh, this one’s pretty. L.A. duo LoveyDove pays tribute with a plaintive yet rocked-up dirge for a departed hero, delivered with gutsy indie rock sincerity by singer Azalia Snail and fading out with a driving chorus of “Walk on the Wild Side” doot-de-doots. I especially like that their a-Lou-sions dig for slightly deeper cuts like “Crazy Feeling,” “Coney Island Baby,” and “Rock & Roll Heart.” I mean, sure, I’d be even more impressed if a band was to shout out, say, “Like a Possum” or “What Becomes a Legend Most,” but I’ll take this any day.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;"><b>The Hot Buttered Elves - “Lou Reed Xmas”</b></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">I’m inclined to appreciate a novelty rock band that took their name from a Letterman Top Ten List and traffics exclusively in off-center Christmas songs. Plus, they’re from Philadelphia, so I assume they're friends with The Dead Milkmen. Here they cast Lou Reed as a slightly edgy Santa Claus “handing out gifts and breaking laws.” It’s actually rather a plaintive, lovely song that also sketches portraits of a goth girl who volunteers at the children’s hospital and a homeless guy who still respects a sprig of mistletoe. They’re folks who’d be right at home in a Lou Reed song, and that’s about as fine a tribute as you could ask for.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;"><b>Animal Electricity - “Lou Reed”</b></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">This cool, gothy cut from little-known Denver psych-rock combo Animal Electricity is a damn fine memorial tune, name-checking a handful of Lou’s early songs (“I have a perfect day / I have my own sweet Jane”) on the way to a haunting climax of “They say Lou Reed is dead / October 27 / But we are not certain / We can still hear him sing.” They’re the one band on this list that you’re least likely to have heard before (I sure never heard of them before I started researching this post) and I’d </span></span><a href="https://animalelectricity.bandcamp.com/"><span style="color: #1155cc;"><span style="-webkit-text-decoration-skip: none; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">advocate for changing that</span></span></a><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;"><b>Television Personalities - “You, Me, and Lou Reed”</b></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">Perpetually self-destructive British post-punk legends Television Personalities pay tribute, I think, to one of their influences in a way with which Lou could really get on board: by being dicks to a dude who’s earned it. The lyrics mock a wannabe scenester who “ain’t no Roger McGuinn” and claims to have been born during Hendrix’s set at Monterrey. Even as frontman Dan Treacy taunts the poser for telling tall tales about hanging with the Grateful Dead and Rolling Stones, he reassures the guy that “I dig your scene, baby, you know what I mean? You, me and Lou Reed.” It’s a “Dirt”-style scalding takedown that would do Lou proud. </span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;"><b>Korea Campfire - “Lou Reed Says” </b></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">It’s a mighty clever concept, really. Take Lou Reed’s oft-quoted thesis statement - “Rock and roll is so great, people should start dying for it. You don't understand. The music gave you back your beat so you could dream… The people just have to die for the music. People are dying for everything else, so why not for music? Die for it. Isn't it pretty? Wouldn't you die for something pretty?” - set it to a </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">White Light/White Heat </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">era Velvets-style arrangement, and presto! You’ve got yourself a </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Mermaid Avenue</span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> for the nihilist hipster set. </span></span><a href="https://soundcloud.com/kcampfire"><span style="color: #1155cc;"><span style="-webkit-text-decoration-skip: none; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">Swedish art-rock collective Korea Campfire </span></span></a><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">really nails something with this grimy yet catchy as hell bit of imitative flattery.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;"><b>Pixies - “I’ve Been Tired”</b></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">In which Frank Black discovers that “I wanna be a singer like Lou Reed” is actually a pretty good pick-up line, and one that may lead directly to a “real left-winger” sticking her tongue in your ear and whispering, “I like Lou Reed.” Of course, given that his intended doesn’t walk out of the joint as soon as he starts making wisecracks about “losing my penis to a whore with disease,” it’s possible that she’s not setting the bar super high.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;"><b>Violent Femmes - “Death Drugs”</b></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">Buried on the Femmes’ barely released, massively undervalued</span><span style="color: black;">* </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Rock!!! </span></i></span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">album, “Death Drugs” is a raging little heroin ditty that finds the narrator in </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">the market for long-sleeved shirts because “I gotta hide the marks where I </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">stick the works.” In a brazen appeal to authority, he cites “Bobby Dylan and </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Louie Reed / You never see them in short sleeves.” Of course, the fella’s a </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">little off base on a couple of points: Lou spent most of his last three decades </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">on Earth in tank tops, and while he did indeed write the definitive heroin </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">anthem, by most accounts amphetamines were his go-to during his druggie days.
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<i>*Undervalued to the extent that I can’t find any recording of this song online to share with you. Come by my place some time and I’ll play you the CD. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;"><b>Eli Braden - “Nobody Bought the Lou Reed/Metallica Album”</b></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">Eli Braden is a comedy musician and, I’ll acknowledge, not my cup of tea. His stuff used to turn up on the old Comedy Death Ray podcast from time to time, back when Scott Aukerman still played comedy songs on the show. I’m not inclined to give much credit to this fish-in-a-barrel takedown of the much-maligned </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Lulu </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">album, but I’ll give the guy props for a lyrical structure that sort of mirrors Lou Reed’s own “Rock and Roll.” I’m still gonna say this is pretty lame, though.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;"><b>David Bowie - “Queen Bitch”</b></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">It seems very Bowie that his purported tribute to Lou Reed sounds suspiciously like an attempt to outdo Lou at his own game - and rather a successful one at that. Whether or not the titular bitch is really a Lou stand-in, Bowie’s vision of New York City’s glamorously sleazy mean streets is full of Reedian imagery that arguably outstrips the originator. “If she says she can do it, she can do it” indeed.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;"><b>Lloyd Cole and the Commotions - “Andy’s Babies”</b></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">English singer-songwriter Lloyd Cole wants us to understand that he’s got no beef with Andy Warhol himself - he’s “fine,” and “a saint.” All the Warhol acolytes and wannabes slouching around the mid-’80s art scene, though - Lloyd’s had about enough of those babies. Noted Warhol protegee Lou Reed enters the scene in the last verse, when Cole gripes that “It’s 8 in the morning / Still you can’t get no sleep / On account of ‘Perfect Day’ / And all this ‘White Light/White Heat’ / Aw, isn’t that sweet?” There’s no accounting for fans, of course, and Lou emerges unscathed from what’s an underrated gem of ‘80s indie pop.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;"><b>The Dictators - “Two Tub Man”</b></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">Well, here’s a swaggering punk tune that opens with old-school pro wrestling taunts and goes on to trace its drunken hero’s unhinged stroll through the city streets. Among his non-sequiturial boasts: “I got Jackie Onassis in my pants,” “I think Joe Franklin’s real flash,” and “I think Lou Reed is a creep.” The fact that this song likely wouldn’t exist without Lou Reed’s influence is probably not lost on the Dictators, even if their DNA leans a little more to the Iggy Pop side.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;"><b>The Little Willies - “Lou Reed”</b></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black;">Here is a song from Norah Jones’s alt-country side project about a band driving through West Texas at dusk and spotting Lou Reed in a field tipping cows. When they call him out, his very Lou-ish response is, “Go screw.” It’s pretty dumb.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-78279358241956369342017-05-23T22:16:00.000-05:002017-06-01T18:55:19.346-05:00A brief note on Lisa Spoonauer, 'Clerks,' and lightning in bottles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Lisa Spoonauer died today. She played Caitlin Bree in <i>Clerks</i> and then moved on to what sounds like a quiet, normal life with her family. Not many people would know her by name, but for those of us of a certain age, she was part of something genuinely momentous.<br />
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I've encountered quite a few younger film folks who are baffled that <i style="box-sizing: border-box;">Clerks</i> is regarded as any kind of classic, and I sorta get where they're coming from. Everything that seemed so radical about it at the time was quickly copied and compromised by both the mainstream and indie film industries (I worked for a sizable film festival in the late '90s and roughly one out of every three short film submissions we got was a blatant attempt at Kevin Smithery). I can definitely see how someone coming to it after growing up with all of its progeny, not to mention a working knowledge of post-success Kevin Smith, would be underwhelmed by watching shaky actors make dirty jokes in a convenience store for an hour and a half.<br />
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But man, when <i style="box-sizing: border-box;">Clerks</i> first hit video stores, I sure as hell had never seen anything like it. There were probably other filmmakers doing more with even less than Kevin Smith had, but their movies weren't on the shelf at my small-town Wisconsin video shop. Watching it for the first time was one of those "Oh, you can <i style="box-sizing: border-box;">do</i> that?" epiphany moments that means a ton to the folks who experienced it but seldom translates across generational lines.<br />
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All that is to say that Lisa Spoonauer played a vital role in something truly special to a generation of people, even if it seems to have been a footnote in her real life. That's a better legacy than just about anybody can hope for.</div>
Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-23752439930687794392017-03-08T23:35:00.002-06:002017-03-09T13:58:24.390-06:00Tonight I saw Patti Smith play "Horses"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When she hit the peak of "Birdland" I started crying. I cried several more times throughout the night. I've never cried like that at a concert.<br />
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She sang "Birdland." She sang "Land." She sang "Gloria" and "Kimberly" and "Dancing Barefoot."<br />
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She sang "When Doves Cry."<br />
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She listed loved ones she has lost over the years at the end of "Elegie" and asked us to do the same. I whispered two names and cried again.<br />
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She had us sing "Happy Birthday" to John Cale over her smartphone.<br />
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She thanked women everywhere and told the women of the world to misbehave in peace and screamed, "I am woman, hear me fucking roar!" as she shredded a noise-guitar solo. She apologized for working on International Women's Day but said <i>Horses</i> is beyond gender.<br />
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She played "Citizen Ship" for what she said was the first time in decades and forgot the words and joked about her Stockholm performance and had to start over and then came blazing back until the crowd was on its feet as she recited the inscription from the Statue of Liberty.<br />
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She did a Chris Farley impression.<br />
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She tore the strings off her guitar one by one and threw them to the crowd. <br />
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She introduced the band and reminded us that Lenny Kaye and Jay Dee Daugherty have been with her from the beginning, and t<i></i>he other guitarist is her son. <br />
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When she started the preamble to "Land" the room was so intense that I squeezed my hands together until my knuckles were white. She turned the poetry break into an angry yelp of freedom led by Johnny and his jacket full of knives.<br />
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She and Lenny Kaye and Tony Shanahan traded vocals on "My Generation" and then it built into a frenzy while Patti told us how her generation believed in love and revolution and that they could make the world a better place, and then she said, "Look what it got us: Donald Trump." But then she shouted, "But Donald Trump is 70 fucking years old! BUT SO AM I!" and assured us that she wasn't going anywhere and that she wasn't going to stop misbehaving peacefully and that she was going to live as long as she fucking possibly could.<br />
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She waved to the balcony and it felt like she really meant it.<br />
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When the band kicked in on "Gloria" and she belted the first, "Do you know how to Pony?" a wave swept through the auditorium and we were awash in an aura of the kind of intensity with which one occupies a room only a precious few times over the span of one's life and when she said rock and roll was our greatest weapon we believed it as surely as if she'd struck us down on the road to Damascus. <br />
<br />Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-50254913943801694782017-03-02T20:55:00.001-06:002017-03-04T21:52:03.918-06:00Lou Reed, Half-Price Books and the end of things<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-50fdc8b0-9214-3479-44c1-b6671c1fde4f" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My local Half-Price Books has a pretty good selection of Lou Reed CDs right now. They have the ones you’ll find in just about every used section, sure - </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Transformer</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Rock 'n' Roll Animal</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">, a smattering of those shoddy Greatest Hits comps - but also a few that don’t show up on most casual fans’ shelves - </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The Bells</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Rock and Roll Heart</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">, a bootleg of a </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">New Sensations</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">-era radio concert whose liner notes repeatedly refer to the source album as </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">New Directions</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">. I’m not really a potential buyer at this point, as I’ve owned multiple copies of most of these albums for nearly two decades. But there’s still a pleasant nostalgia to standing in a crowded store with all of those familiar CD spines gazing up at me.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It’s also something like muscle memory for me. Every time I step into a music retailer, I reflexively head for the “R” section to check out what Lou Reed albums they happen to have on hand. I’m under no illusion that I’m going to stumble upon any mysterious holy grails. Setting aside various live bootlegs, I completed my completist’s mission long ago, and there’s not going to be anything emerging from the vaults without my prior knowledge. But there was a time when every trip to a record shop carried the potential of adding another piece to the puzzle, and it’s the memory of that thrilling pursuit that keeps me digging through the crates for old time’s sake.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’ve written <a href="http://atalentforidleness.blogspot.com/2013/10/some-loss-to-even-things-out-goodbye.html" target="_blank">before</a> about the odd circumstances that led to me buying my first Lou Reed cassette on March 2, 1994, Lou’s 52nd birthday, and how I’ve made it a point to buy one of his albums on his birthday every year since. But if I’d limited myself to just one record a year, I’d still be piecing together his discography today. And so for much of my teens and twenties, it was a sacred mission of mine to track down every Lou Reed album wherever I could find them. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I came of age in rural Wisconsin in the primordial days of online retail, which meant that once I’d snatched the sole copy of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Lou Reed Live </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">from the $3 bin at the Pamida discount store, the local well was tapped out. Half-an-hour’s drive to Deaf Ear Records in La Crosse or Best Buy in Onalaska expanded the hunting some, though I quickly gobbled up the scanty Lou selection at all of those outlets. My Columbia House Records membership yielded a few more titles, including a hugely discounted Velvet Underground box set. (Mock those old "12 for a penny" mail-order music clubs if you will, but I discovered a </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">ton</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> of fantastic stuff digging through their deep catalog in the mid-’90s.)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The real hunting, though, was reserved for rare trips to bigger cities like Madison and Minneapolis, where stores like The Exclusive and Cheapo Records not only carried an extensive selection of used Lou albums on CD and vinyl, but also import copies of CDs that were out of print or hard to find in American editions. Heading into those stores was sweet torture for me as a low-wage high schooler and later collegiate. I was faced with a sudden bounty of goods and very limited funds. I can’t tell you the hours I spent agonizing over the choice of, say, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Growing Up in Public</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> or </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Coney Island Baby</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">, knowing it would be months before I’d get a crack at the other. And of course a fellow can’t live on Reed alone, so I’d reluctantly set myself a one-Lou limit and gather up enough other punk, jazz, and soul obscurities to relegate myself to another month’s diet of Success Rice and spaghetti noodles. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Once I’d tracked down all of the official Lou Reed albums, I moved on to the weird extremes of the true completist, clawing through the dusty confines of the Soundtrack and Various Artists racks in search of one-off songs recorded for charity releases and obscure-ish ‘80s and ‘90s movies. (Con: I own the soundtracks to </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Perfect </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">and </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">White Nights</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">. Pro: I own the soundtracks to </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Get Crazy </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">and </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Blue in the Face</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">.) </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">All of this might sound like a miserable, minutia-obsessive, mind-numbing way to conduct one’s fandom, but my god, I loved every moment of it. I loved the thrill of the mission, the disappointment of coming up empty, the ecstasy of finding a long-missing piece. And of course the incomparable satisfaction of coming home with the shrink-wrapped heft of a shiny new Lou Reed CD in my hand. I cherished every one, not just for the music encoded within but for their physical presence. They were the fruits of my labor, the spoils of my hunt. I marveled at the symmetry of the dozens of multi-fonted LOU REEDs forming a phalanx in my black plastic CD tower. These weren’t just pieces of my music collection. These were my treasures. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And now here they are, the forgotten siblings to my cherished treasures, gracing the CD bin of Half-Price books and retailing for a six-buck price-point that’s still well above what most anyone is willing to pay. This just isn't a selection that would have existed in a resale shop back in my completist heyday - the rarer titles would've been scooped up immediately, supposing the people who cared enough to buy them in the first place would've parted with them so easily. It's bizarre to see them all gathered here so nonchalantly. My own collection is still safe at home, of course, but packed away in Pampers boxes and tucked into the closet under the basement stairs. Even without their prior place of prominence, nothing can take away from what those CDs mean to me. And honestly, standing here in the Half-Price Books and realizing that these borderline holy items are now little more than space-fillers, barely a step above garbage, I actually find myself tearing up. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">But those were different times. I understand that technology, tastes, and trends are forever shifting, and that every generation is doomed to watch its sacred cows get ground into slurry to feed the Next Big Thing. Like Lou himself said, “the only thing constantly changing is change, and it’s always for the worse.” I don’t want to be the guy who clucks his tongue and talks about how these kids are never going to know the joy of stumbling across a German import of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Take No Prisoners</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> in the last shop you duck into before leaving State Street. The kids are all right. They’re going to have their own cherished discovery stories that will be every bit as valid for them as mine were for me. Hell, I myself have half-a-dozen Lou Reed-themed Spotify playlists on regular rotation, and all of those treasured CDs are packed away mainly because I long ago converted them to MP3s. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">But I think I can be forgiven for shedding a tear for the extinction of one of the defining rituals of my formative days. It’s not an experience that can last forever, and it’s certainly not one I could expect everyone to share in, but damn it, it was one that meant the world to me, and I’m sad to realize it’s gone forever.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline;">Sha-la-la, man. Why don’t you go slip away?</span>Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-81797771968282832742016-12-24T01:28:00.001-06:002016-12-24T09:15:45.951-06:0011 immutable truths I've learned about Christmas music<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xJx_QRvsxOI/WF6MnBnv1SI/AAAAAAAAIII/X_jBgxwPCr4-3zcisB_mUaFh4dC1BsawQCLcB/s1600/mud%2Bin%2Bmy%2Bsaddle%2Bshoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xJx_QRvsxOI/WF6MnBnv1SI/AAAAAAAAIII/X_jBgxwPCr4-3zcisB_mUaFh4dC1BsawQCLcB/s1600/mud%2Bin%2Bmy%2Bsaddle%2Bshoes.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I wouldn’t call holiday music one of my primary genres of interest, but I happen to have a child who is enamored of Christmas and has almost as broad a musical appetite as I do. I can’t not go overboard when it comes to hooking my kid up with art, so I’ve spent a lot of this season digging into the bottomless reservoir of Christmas music, looking for unknown nuggets and giving old standards a deeper analysis than I’ve ever bothered to before. I’ve reached a lot of conclusions over that time, and I’ve deigned to make you privy to ten of them.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1. Low knows Christmas</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s my understanding that they still have Christmas in places without snow, and I’m sure they do a fine job of it. You’ll forgive a Minnesotan, though, for feeling a little smug about spending the most wintry of holidays in the most wintry of states. That’s why I hold that Duluth’s very own Low gets Christmas from a different angle than any other band that ever put out a Christmas album. Their aptly titled </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Christmas</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> EP opens with the cheery indie pop of </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IippcraBPKA" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Just Like Christmas,”</span></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> then dives into chilly, almost mournful reflection for the next seven tracks. Whether they’re repurposing old standards like </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_bCge-JzkWU" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Blue Christmas”</span></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOZwvRzPvz8" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Silent Night”</span></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or crafting striking originals like </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0WkNP-LQvBw" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“If You Were Born Today” </span></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFIbb5Sjqsk" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“One Special Gift,”</span></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> they display an innate grasp of the specific melancholy that defines the season at least as much as peace on Earth and good will toward men. I was fortunate enough to make it out to their annual Christmas show at First Avenue this year (on a night of negative-20-degree weather for extra street cred) and can attest that Alan Sparhawk, Mimi Parker and various bassists have a much deeper understanding of Christmas than you.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Merry Christmas from Sesame Street </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">is a stone classic</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Although it’s not the most celebrated Muppet-affiliated Christmas property, this 1975 TV special soundtrack was a pillar of my childhood and it sounds just as good today. Oscar the Grouch’s misanthropic </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ai6pdG_xPDk&list=PLlvMbcw78z3Cc7ekShrPIEBL7IHfQ7yzS&index=4" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I Hate Christmas”</span></a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> is justifiably the best-known cut here, but there’s not a bad track in the bunch. You’ve got Bert and Ernie delivering my favorite rendition of my favorite carol (</span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOoYJ26gL0k&list=PLlvMbcw78z3Cc7ekShrPIEBL7IHfQ7yzS&index=6" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas</span></a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”), a spirited </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GibJKwCGkk8&list=PLlvMbcw78z3Cc7ekShrPIEBL7IHfQ7yzS&index=7" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“12 Days of Christmas”</span></a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> culminating in Snuffleupagus forgetting what present he got, the lovely original </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2i88ZBMs4lY&index=14&list=PLlvMbcw78z3Cc7ekShrPIEBL7IHfQ7yzS" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Keep Christmas With You (All Through the Year),”</span></a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and David (remember David?) delivering a proto-rap </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RjpaMx3-LX0&list=PLlvMbcw78z3Cc7ekShrPIEBL7IHfQ7yzS&index=9" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Night Before Christmas on Sesame Street.”</span></a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Stir in a couple of fantastic sketches - Prairie Dawn directs a Christmas pageant starring a reluctant Bert as The Tree, and Bert, Ernie and Mr. Hooper reenact </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=szpEcyDrIR4&list=PLlvMbcw78z3Cc7ekShrPIEBL7IHfQ7yzS&index=5" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The Gift of the Magi”</span></a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> - and you’ve got something timeless that could only come from the peak era of Hensonian creativity.</span><span id="docs-internal-guid-68a9f4b8-3151-32f1-6114-688a5347ffd1"></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">3. “The Little Drummer Boy” is very good</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I think I first became aware of mankind’s general hatred of “The Little Drummer Boy” while reading one of several </span><a href="http://articles.chicagotribune.com/1991-12-22/features/9104240905_1_pum-uncle-dave-index-of-people-living" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dave Barry columns</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> bemoaning “a song, lasting longer than most dental appointments, in which a chorus of high-voiced women shriek ‘Rum-pa-pum-PUM, rum-pa-pum-PUM.’” Barry’s knack for drawing humor from overly literal nitpicking of popular songs has since been rendered redundant by the entire internet, but his sentiment stands. People haaaaate “The Little Drummer Boy” to a near “Wonderful Christmastime” degree. I don’t get it and never have. The staccato beat; the relentless, almost threatening progression of events; the somewhat saccharine but narratively sound arc of the story - this is a great damn Christmas song, whether it’s being performed by the aforementioned </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ai-5tDAuYWU" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Low</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or the latermentioned </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5Tru2YmXjk" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jackson Five</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FIo7hPfbsNE" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Temptations</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qOe6REmAf8g" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bob Seger</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or a Christian hair metal band. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">4. Christmas proves Springsteen knows Springsteen</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band playing “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” is the type of thing that should be good for a quick goof, but damned if it isn’t a genuinely great performance and a deserving entry in the Christmas canon. The first time I heard it I wasn’t sure if I was listening to Springsteen or a spot-on parody, and therein lies the greatness. Springsteen plays this song exactly the way someone parodying Bruce Springsteen singing “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” would, from his opening line about it being cold down at the beach to the brief shifts into doo-wop to needling Clarence Clemons about asking Santa for a new saxophone. Springsteen’s a good dude by most accounts, but he’s got such a carefully maintained image that it’s nice to know he’s not afraid to take himself down a peg.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">5. Christmas is for Michael Jackson</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ll confess that I’ve never been much of a Michael Jackson fan. I like the hits well enough, but his music has never stirred my soul the way that it did for most of my agemates. If I had to pick a favorite Michael Jackson era, it’d easily be his earliest work with The Jackson Five, and if I had to pick a favorite piece from that era, it’d easily be </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Christmas with the Jackson Five</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. While young Michael’s powerful-beyond-his-years vocals can come off a little creepy when he’s singing about romance and yearning, his Christmas songs overflow with a childish enthusiasm that can only be captured by, well, a child. His adolescent voice and delivery really are among the great wonders of the rock era, and they seldom got a better vehicle than this collection of holiday standards. Michael Jackson’s “rooty-toot-toot and rummy-tum-tum” alone is worth any number of aging crooners’ Christmas cash-ins. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">6. Christmas is for novelties</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m pretty fond of the 1960s heyday of novelty rock songs, and possibly even more fond of the Christmas-themed sequels those hits frequently spawned. Maybe most famously, David Seville’s “The Witch Doctor” spawned the Christmas anti-classic “The Chipmunk Song,” but that was far from the last time a chart-topping weirdo found the yuletide spirit. The Royal Guardsmen’s “Snoopy vs. The Red Baron” spun off into <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jlf---13Q0g" target="_blank">“Snoopy’s Holiday,”</a> in which the aerial aces declare a holiday truce. Sheb Wooley’s Purple People Eater </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWNPyEMKOT0" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">teamed up with Santa Claus</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to stop a runaway Sputnik satellite. Even Bobby “Boris” Pickett’s decidedly non-Christmassy “Monster Mash” gang hatched a plot to hijack Santa’s sleigh only to be foiled by the irresistible force of generosity. Those were different times, I reckon.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">7. “Here Comes Santa Claus” is the ultimate Christmas crossover</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For the longest time I grouped Christmas songs into four distinct groups: Santa, Jesus, Winter, and General Christmas. Santa and Jesus might get name-checked in a Winter or Christmas song, but the overtly religious carols tend to eschew Santa and vice versa. This year, though, I paid close attention to Gene Autry’s lyrics to “Here Comes Santa Claus” for what must have been the first time and realized that there are references to Santa loving the rich and poor equally because he “knows we’re all God’s children” and exhorting us to “follow the light” and “give thanks to the Lord above.” Turns out Santa and Jesus are playing for the same team, I guess. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">8. The California Raisins hold up</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Look, there are times in history when cutting-edge clay animation, misguided advertising campaigns, and vaguely racist characterizations dovetail into something that captures the pop-cultural zeitgeist. I can neither excuse nor explain the existence of the California Raisins as a concept, but I can aver that the crass promotional tie-in albums released under their name are pretty dang good. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Christmas with the California Raisins</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> does what the band (fronted by legit rock legend and former Hendrix bandmate Buddy Miles) did best: crafting slightly updated, surprisingly authentic renditions of Motown-style tunes you know by heart. The Christmas album is full of soul-slathered standards, plus a rap version of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” that by all rights should be cringey but instead kinda rules. Apparently this was quietly reissued as </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Buddy-Miles-Greatest-Christmas-Hits/dp/B000003A5P" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Buddy Miles’ Greatest Christmas Hits</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, which gives credit where it’s due but is also somehow a little less fun.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">9. Just because you shouldn’t do a Christmas song doesn’t mean you should</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The dank back alleys of Christmas music are riddled with singles and albums whose main and perhaps only hook is “Can you believe ___ did a Christmas song?” With very few exceptions, these songs are good for one ironically amusing spin and very little else. I’m thinking here of endless CD samplers with titles like </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r_UEHRuAlqk&list=PLZAngsn6Gao1XqAb9u4tqrOW3Ny6VV9iU" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Punk Goes Christmas</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3eVnsMC6Oc" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We Wish You a Metal Christmas</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, or even, lord help us, </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2PEDuPdgA3A&list=PLFI8A9A3KR6rokUSWvGMmi2YMRzsFcUpj" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Prog Rock Christmas</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. I won’t say these albums don’t sometimes feature a few gems - heck, seeking out gems from unlikely sources is one of my principal occupations - but by and large the gag’s shelf-life runs out in the time it takes to read the title.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">10. “Christmas is Coming” owns </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A Charlie Brown Christmas</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I love “Linus and Lucy” and “Christmas Time is Here” as much all good-hearted people, but for my money the best thing about Vince Guaraldi’s justly beloved piano jazz score is the bouncy, propulsive “Christmas is Coming.” You know the tune even if the name doesn’t ring a bell, but it’s nowhere near as iconic as those other two. I think that’s part of its strength - even though it’s deeply embedded in its source material, it can also live independently of it. It’s the difference between “Hey, it’s that Charlie Brown song!” and “Say, isn’t this that Charlie Brown song?” In my book (and maybe my book alone) that’s a meaningful distinction.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">11. Seriously, Low</span></div>
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Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-79130957530510771292016-03-02T01:17:00.001-06:002016-03-02T12:38:40.269-06:00Knifing Around with Lou Reed<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9fCkBGQ7Zjs/VtaTQp3aZeI/AAAAAAAAHsU/zsPxVsAWa5A/s1600/lou%2Bsword.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9fCkBGQ7Zjs/VtaTQp3aZeI/AAAAAAAAHsU/zsPxVsAWa5A/s320/lou%2Bsword.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve been blogging about the weird nooks and crannies of Lou Reed’s musical career on his birthday for quite a few years now. You might think by now I’d be running short on topics, but as this year’s entry illustrates, that would be grossly underestimating my creepy eye for minutia. At this point I can’t imagine why anyone else would want to read this stuff, but I know I want to write it and that’s all that really matters. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A while back my friend Stefa tweeted me asking for the name of the Lou Reed song where a guy is killed with a knife. It took me a few moments to answer “The Gift,” not because I couldn’t think of it, but because I could think of so many songs that fit the description. I’d never really thought about it before, but Lou Reed wrote a lot of songs about knives.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As I’m prone to doing when struck by a revelation, I immediately <a href="https://open.spotify.com/user/123851389/playlist/0M91SJ1Jv9UfqLOzpSWDI0" target="_blank">made a playlist about it</a>. Pulling from Lou’s entire catalog beginning with the Velvet Underground, I assembled every song that mentions knives, swords, razors, stabbing, cutting and/or slicing. The playlist wound up being more than two hours long. If I’d included hypodermic needles it would be even longer, but I decided there’s enough of a distinction there. Here, then, is an annotated documentation of Lou Reed’s long and bloody history of knifing around.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Kicks”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Delivered in a second-person street-jive, this slow-burning wad of sleaze follows a homicidal dude with a blade on an evening prowl, luring in gay bar pickups and murdering them with his knife. The lyrics make no bones about the motivations. “When the blood run down his neck / You know it was far better than sex / It was way better than getting laid / ‘Cause it’s a final thing to do.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Sword of Damocles”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The blade here is metaphorical and mythological, hovering over the head of Lou’s terminally ill friend. It’s one of the most personal and harrowing songs in his catalog. That the sword hasn’t fallen by song’s end just makes it all the more powerful.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“The Gift”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The instrument of stalker ex-boyfriend and Internet Nice Guy prototype Waldo Jeffers’s well-earned destruction is one of Lou Reed’s most beautifully observed objects. After all of Sheila and Marsha’s fruitless fumbling with the sheet metal cutter, John Cale’s dispassionate description of the long blade’s journey “through the masking tape, through the cardboard, through the cushioning and [plunk] right through the middle of Waldo Jeffers’s head” is catharsis of the most macabre sort.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Egg Cream”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Even at his most upbeat, Lou can’t help working in a little twist of misery. This is mostly a nostalgic ode to the favorite after school treat of Lou’s days at P.S. 92 in Brooklyn, a bubbly chocolate drink that “made it easier to deal with knife fights and kids pissing in the street.” No cloud is so silver that Lou Reed can’t find its grey lining.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/pRRtSmzkByE" width="420"></iframe> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Hold On”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This montage of social ills in pre-Giuliani New York City hits sardonically on just about every form of violence available, including “blacks with knives and whites with clubs fighting at Howard Beach” and a subway commuter outfitted with “a black .38 and a gravity knife.” Call me nuts, but that vision of New York still sounds perversely appealing to me.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“My Friend George”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unhinged gym rat George’s weapon of choice is a stick, but Lou’s reverie of him is sparked by a newspaper story about a man killed with a sword, and George’s barroom manifesto includes an exhortation to “stick it to these guys, right through their heads.” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8KYj7ItbxzY" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Prominent Men”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Dylan influence is almost embarrassingly evident on this early Velvet Underground demo, from the grim social commentary to the rudimentary harmonica solos, but Lou Reed’s take on ‘60s folk is still a few degrees sleazier than his idol’s. One of the lost souls profiled here is a child with a glistening knife that “stabs no ways and all ways.” And thus was the template set.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/XvLNd-0vWnk" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Dime Store Mystery”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lou’s tribute to Andy Warhol envisions the artist as a dying Christ figure staring down his last temptation. As such, he is introduced “banged and battered, skewered and bleeding.” The real-life Warhol’s side-wound was more bullet-induced, of course, but I think we can safely assume a spear in this scenario.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_EuOWLMeM9A" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“The Bed”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lou fairly whispers his way through this haunted, ethereal post-mortem from his masterpiece of despair </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Berlin</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. After years of abuse of the mental, physical, substance and self varieties, our heroine Caroline has slit her wrists in the bed she once shared with her husband Jim. Jim narrates from his own traumatized yet unrepentant perspective, but if you’re not in Caroline’s corner when she lifts that fateful razor, I don’t think I care to know you.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/OsxhM2g1JRg" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“High in the City”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This steel drum-laced jaunt about getting stoned and strolling around town sounds celebratory on its surface, but listen a little closer and you’ll find the grimness beneath the glee. Before setting out on a simple walk through a landscape of vicious dogs, burning Jeeps and street crazies, Lou has to make sure that “You got your mace and I got my knife / You gotta protect your own life when you’re high in the city.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/jO5Emuw6SNk" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Future Farmers of America”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A rapid-fire slave revolt story set to a rollicking rock beat, this one culminates in a call to “kill your master with one cut of your knife. Kill them during talk, kill them during sex, kill them whenever you can.” It’s not one of Lou’s subtler messages.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/OPmFV7Kr9DM" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“The Murder Mystery”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All four Velvets are on hand to chant along with this discordant collection of dueling nonsense rhymes, which naturally include plenty of chopping, piercing, flaying and other forms of blade-related mutilation. “Off with his head, take his head from his neck off/Requiring memories both lovely and guilt-free/Put out his eyes, then cut his nose off” is a pretty typical sequence. This is arguably the most widely hated Velvet Underground song, so it should come as no surprise that I adore it.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6DHvBSqfnVs" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“The Blue Mask”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The title track from one of Lou’s most visceral albums follows a tormented soul across a life of violence that leads him to believe in the cleansing power of pain. He demands to have his face slashed with a razor, pierces his own nipple with a pin and dreams of genital mutilation. The guitar is pretty good too.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/pCXA7RRoD0M" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b> </b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This one melds a deceptively lovely John Cale melody and dreamy Nico vocal with some mighty harsh lyrics, even by Lou Reed standards. It’s all about embracing death and finding salvation through pain, much of it blade-induced. Not to be confused for one second with the easy-listening standard, even though it’s fun to imagine Louis Armstrong or Frank Sinatra crooning “The knife stabs existent wounds / Pus runs through matted hair.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9WYv-6OpbGc" width="420"></iframe> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Power and Glory”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A big, boisterous anthem that also happens to be an introspective meditation on death and the meaning of existence, the opening track from “Magic and Loss” delves into a variety of mystic imagery, naturally including a little bit of piercery. “I saw a man put a red hot needle into his eye / turn into a crow and fly through the trees” might not be one of your more orthodox visions of the afterlife, but I’ve certainly heard worse.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZcLLMfuBhFo" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Vicious”</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m not entirely sure that “You must think that I’m some kind of gay blade / Well, why don’t you go swallow a razor blade?” even counts as wordplay, let alone rhyming, but it’s close enough for me.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Lady Godiva’s Operation”</b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In maybe the purest example of the collaborative vision of Lou Reed and John Cale, the menacing elegance of the musical arrangement both belies and accentuates the brutality of the lyrics. The jarring discordance of Lou and John swapping lead vocals, sometimes mid-verse, plays right into the story of the alluring Godiva’s vaguely defined and highly traumatic surgery at the hands of a surgeon who “sees the growth as just so much cabbage that must be cut away.” By the time “the doctor removes his blade cagily so from the brain,” it seems as though the damage has already been done. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/AxgvkzFVnNQ" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“The Heroine”</b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m pretty sure this ode to a seawoman standing strong in the face of both a mutiny and a collosal storm is a metaphor, but I couldn’t tell you for what exactly. Anyway, the situation with the crewmen is dire enough that it’s almost an afterthought when Lou tells us that “when they thought no one was looking, they would cut a weaker man’s neck.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4jBNzQqjKJI" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Sally Can’t Dance”</b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of the few instances where I believe the bladeplay in a Lou Reed song to be metaphorical, this sardonically upbeat number about a gender-fluid party girl and eventual overdose victim finds its heroine surviving a rape in Tompkins Square and thereafter adopting an unorthodox self-defense system. “Now she wears a sword like Napoleon / And she kills the boys and acts like a son,” says Lou. I don’t think the boy-killing is literal, but it would be hard to fault Sally if it were.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Video Violence”</b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This very ‘80s cut finds a skeevy dullard sitting down to a quiet night of television and being bombarded with graphic violence both physical and ideological in nature. He’s the type of dude who beats up sex workers, then calls up a televangelist to rant against the menace of TV violence. Lyrically, Lou almost seems to be having it both ways, decrying moviegoers “grabbing their crotches at the 13th beheading” and the general pervasiveness of ugly imagery in the Reagan era. In the end, though, it’s clear that nobody’s to blame for this dummy’s actions but himself, no matter how hard he might try to blame slasher movies and Madonna.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dGwyXUEZ84Y" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“The Black Angel’s Death Song”</b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The song that allegedly got the Velvet Underground banned from at least one nightclub is as unsettling lyrically as it is musically. Lou’s monotone stream of consciousness recounts a weary trudge through an apocalyptic landscape laced with semi-coherent couplets like “Cut mouth-bleeding razors forgetting the pain / Antiseptic remains cool goodbye” and “Wandering’s brother walked on through the night / With his hair in his face on a long splintered cut from the knife of G.T.” I have no idea who or what G.T. is but I want to believe it’s George Thorogood.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Harry’s Circumcision”</b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A blackly humorous jaunt into identity crisis and body horror, this one watches a poor slob named Harry taking a depressing inventory in his bathroom mirror, nonchalantly carving up his face with a straight razor, and finally slitting his own throat. The punchline has Harry surviving his self-mutilation and laughing ruefully as he considers his new life with a new, horrific face. It’s one of the less grim songs on </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Magic & Loss</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/l9ZfLXN3c_I" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>“Rock Minuet”</b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I get the impression that Lou was mighty proud of this song, but for me it’s always verged on trying too hard for the sleaze and grime of the Lou Reed brand. Anyway, it’s all about a damaged loner who gets off on torture and eventually slits the throat of a hustler who tries to pick him up. I think of it as a sort-of sequel to “Kicks,” minus the nebulous menace.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/NyWe94EPTDw" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Lulu</b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It seems only fitting that Lou Reed’s final album is loaded with mutilation imagery from the very first line, as “Brandenburg Gate" opens with the eponymous Lulu telling us “I would cut my legs and tits off / When I think of Boris Karloff / And Kinski in the dark of the moon.” It’s the story of a small town girl heading to the city with images of Hollywood and adventure in her head. You know how well those stories usually end. By the time we reach “Pumping Blood,” she’s fixated on, well, blood, demanding point-blank, “Use a knife on me” among other far less wholesome things. “Frustration” finds her lover bemoaning “a sword between my thighs,” and in the end everybody’s all carved up, emotionally if not physically. But probably physically too.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Happy Lou Reed’s birthday, everybody!</span></div>
Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-13291591529484392542015-12-22T00:57:00.005-06:002015-12-22T11:50:24.829-06:00My kid's top 15 things of 2015<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-10e93bd3-c9ff-32cc-08cb-8c00272a6b7b" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline;">2015 was our boy’s fifth year of existence, and one in which his pop culture palate continued to broaden in directions both expected and not. Here are a few of the bits of art and other ephemera that caught his eye over the past year.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></span></span>
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K3iL2-huI0I/Vnjzx975N1I/AAAAAAAAHA4/hACgJ68-Iec/s1600/totoro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K3iL2-huI0I/Vnjzx975N1I/AAAAAAAAHA4/hACgJ68-Iec/s320/totoro.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My Neighbor Totoro</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Conventional wisdom would suggest that kids raised on the hyperkinetic action of modern American cartoons would be bored stiff by the comparatively gentle, introspective work of filmmaker Hayo Miyazaki. The boy, though, adores the work of Miyazaki’s Studio Ghibli, and a good number of his friends and classmates seem to agree. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My Neighbor Totoro </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">is his resounding favorite, so much so that we dressed as a <a href="https://twitter.com/irabrooker/status/660531285069205504">family of Totoros</a> for Halloween and got a Totoro cake for his birthday party. My wife and I couldn’t be happier that he loves this melancholy story of mysterious forest spirits helping two young girls cope with personal trauma in post-war Japan, as it’s quite simply one of the finest works of art of the 20th century.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(Hipster bonus: The boy considered it a positive when we explained that a lot of people might not know what his costume was but those who did would probably like it a lot.)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Batman: The Brave and The Bold</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We watched a lot of superhero shows this year. A </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">lot</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. And honestly, I enjoyed just about every minute of it. Before 2015 my knowledge of the DC Animated Universe began and ended with my much-loved </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Batman: The Animated Series</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Now I’ve seen the justifiably venerated </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Justice League </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and its slightly inferior successor </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Justice League Unlimited</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, the curiously underrated </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Superman </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and the criminally overlooked </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Green Lantern: The Animated Series</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. And some Marvel stuff too.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Green Lantern</i> might be my favorite of the bunch, but the boy was most taken with </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Batman: The Brave and The Bold</span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. That makes sense, as the show specifically aims to recapture the fun and nonsense of old school comic books, before “dark and gritty” became the default setting. Each episode finds Batman teaming up with one or more classic superheroes, ranging from big names like Aquaman and Green Arrow to relative obscurities like the Metal Men and B’wana Beast. It’s good-natured, goofy Silver Age entertainment that takes itself just seriously enough maintain a genuine sense of adventure.</span>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F1jZ-rWueUE/VnjrMO1COdI/AAAAAAAAG_g/4Iu2p7sRfS0/s1600/Aw%2BYeah%2BComics.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F1jZ-rWueUE/VnjrMO1COdI/AAAAAAAAG_g/4Iu2p7sRfS0/s320/Aw%2BYeah%2BComics.jpeg" width="223" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Art Baltazar and Franco</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m a little bit torn about the state of kids’ superhero comics. On the one hand, I recognize that the abundance of material specifically aimed at younger readers is part of a massive marketing maneuver aimed at hooking kids early and establishing them as customers for life as the characters “grow” along with them. On the other hand, there are a lot of really good kids’ comics out there right now. Having grown up in the era when comic companies were determined to rebrand as “not just for kids” by making all of their comics very much inappropriate for kids, I’ll take this trade-off.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://awyeahcomics.com/">Art Baltazar and Franco</a> are arguably the most prolific team working in all ages' comics today, and for good reason. These guys know how to make comics for young readers, whether they’re reimagining the DC Universe as a bunch of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Little Archie</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">-esque ragamuffins in </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tiny Titans</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, creating a new but familiar universe of superheroic funny animals in </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Aw Yeah Comics</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, scaling the sprawling expanse of the Green Lantern universe down to a child-friendly scope, or any of the other dozen or so comic projects they’ve cranked out over the past few years. The boy generally prefers finding new material to revisiting old favorites, but these are stories he’ll gladly read over and over.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Punk” and “Rock”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The boy has gone through a number of favorite songs over the course of the year, the earliest being The Ramones’ “Rock 'n' Roll High School.” Our discussion of that song led to an explanation of punk rock in general, which led to the boy declaring any song he liked to be “a good punk song,” provided it was loud enough and reasonably fast-paced. That included actual punk acts like Rancid and MU330 as well as broader-reaching stuff like Bob Dylan and Doomtree. As the year wore on he shifted to “Rock” as his default terminology, which made more sense when he started digging on Queen and T. Rex but still didn’t quite cover his fondness for club bangers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Other individual favorite songs for the year include “Last Song About Satan” by Slim Cessna’s Auto Club, “Game On” by Waka Flocka Flame, “Blitzkrieg Bop” by The Ramones, “We Will Rock You” and “Another One Bites the Dust” by Queen, the African folk song “Funga Alafia,” "Time Bomb" by Rancid, “The Great Defender (Down at the Arcade)” by Lou Reed, the theme from </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My Neighbor Totoro</span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, “Hey Bulldog” and "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" by The Beatles, “Aquaman’s Rousing Song of Heroism” from </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Batman: The Brave and The Bold</span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, and “Jingle Bells.”</span>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Chapter books</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Reading just clicked for the boy toward the end of last year, and his skills progressed at an alarming rate from then on. He’s currently immensely proud of himself for being able to read chapter books unassisted, as well he should be - he recently brought home </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Flat Stanley </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">from school and read it to us in one sitting just to prove he could. He's read a few more Stanley adventures since then, along with things like Roald Dahl, the </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Super Pets</i> series and the Harry Potter knock-off <i>Secrets of Droon</i> books.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Still, we try to keep him mindful that things won’t always come quite so easily to him, and that no good will come of getting cocky about his skills. I </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">well </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">remember breezing along through elementary school and then running smack into the brick wall of multiplication tables. That hurt on several levels</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ExtCm4-SrNQ/VnjsDb7QURI/AAAAAAAAG_w/cHwJS1mThAI/s1600/scaredy%2Bbirthday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ExtCm4-SrNQ/VnjsDb7QURI/AAAAAAAAG_w/cHwJS1mThAI/s400/scaredy%2Bbirthday.jpg" /></span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Melanie Watt</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Despite his much-vaunted fondness for longer tomes, the boy still loves a good picture book as much as the next kid. His tastes range from the thoughtful, elegantly illustrated work of author-illustrators like Graeme Base and John J. Muth to the wackier antics of folks like Chris Monroe, Michael Ian Black and Mac Barnett. <a href="http://www.scaredysquirrel.com/aboutmw.html">Melanie Watt</a> stands out as his favorite by virtue of two wonderful series: the fussy, elaborately detailed misadventures of Scaredy Squirrel, and the treacherous meta-text of Chester the mutinous cat. All of the above get my hearty endorsement.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I see video games as the biggest pop cultural chasm between the boy’s generation and mine. I grew up in the early days of NES, when gaming systems were still something of a luxury item. Nowadays they’re as much a fact of childhood as TV cartoons, if not more so. While we do have a semi-functional GameCube and PS2 in the basement, the boy’s gaming is mainly tablet- and PC-based. He gravitates toward problem-solving games that lean heavily on logic and pattern recognition. Needless to say, that means Mommy is his usual gaming buddy. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20.24px; vertical-align: baseline;">They’ve defeated a good number of opponents this year in titles ranging from the delightfully low-key </span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20.24px; vertical-align: baseline;">Draw a Stickman</span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20.24px; vertical-align: baseline;"> to the endlessly obnoxious </span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20.24px; vertical-align: baseline;">Plants vs. Zombies</span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20.24px; vertical-align: baseline;">. I think the biggest hit was </span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20.24px; vertical-align: baseline;">Monsters Ate My Birthday Cake</span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20.24px; vertical-align: baseline;">, a cool bit of problem-solving from Cartoon Network. As a guy who’s not so hot with cause-and-effect, the logical intricacies of this one sometimes makes my head hurt, but it’s probably a good sign that the boy gets a blast out of rational thinking.</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_lBhgUs-hEw/Vnjz_5PmaYI/AAAAAAAAHBA/laNjs67JmMM/s1600/20151222_003000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_lBhgUs-hEw/Vnjz_5PmaYI/AAAAAAAAHBA/laNjs67JmMM/s320/20151222_003000.jpg" width="307" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Wizard of Oz, but not that one</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We made a lot of family visits to Oz this year via all kinds of media. We’ve listened to L. Frank Baum’s original novel on Audible, read almost all of the fantastic Marvel Comics adaptations, read a few of Baum’s sequels, and attended Children’s Theater Company’s extravagant stage interpretation of the MGM movie. We haven’t, however, engaged with Oz’s most famous incarnation, the movie itself. Despite thoroughly enjoying the multitude of horrors served up by Baum (not to mention potential trauma-fonts like the Justice League facing down the dread Cthulu in an effort to save the soul of a rampaging zombie), the boy is convinced Margaret Hamilton’s Wicked Witch of the West will be too scary for him to deal with. Much as I dig the technicolor Oz, I’m perfectly happy to stick to the Baumverse for the time being.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ll admit it made me rather proud that my five-year-old had a favorite local graffiti artist. I suppose </span><a href="http://www.boxymouse.com/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 14.6667px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Boxy Mouse </span></a><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">isn’t technically graffiti, but the curiously cubic rodent’s visage decorates more than enough Twin Cities light posts and news boxes to qualify as a street art icon. The boy has loved going Boxy-spotting for years and has amassed a sizable collection of his buttons. His mom picked him up a framed Boxy Mouse portrait for his birthday, which now decorates his bedroom wall. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m a firm believer that children’s television is the strongest it’s ever been. I’ve seen a lot of top-notch shows over the past six years, and this new Cartoon Network offering is one of the best. It’s a simple story of three idiosyncratic bears living in a cave outside of San Francisco and doing their best to cope with this modern world. It’s a rare combination of hip, heartfelt and hilarious that qualifies as appointment TV for every member of our family. Ice Bear is among the five best characters on television right now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Would that my artistic career ever produce anything one-tenth as timeless as </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Looney Tunes</span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. By this point my generation has seen all of these 60-plus-year-old shorts so many times that it’s easy to forget their raw power. Spend a few minutes on a couch next to a five-year-old straight-up howling with laughter at Roadrunner and Coyote and it’ll all come rushing back.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Loving things that you later realize are terrible is an important rite of childhood passage. I’m happy that the boy has found one of those in this profoundly lazy Adam Sandler/Chris Columbus collaboration. A movie about a team of losers battling giant retro video game characters from outer space actually had potential to be a decent bit of dumb fun, but it’s evident that nobody here (except maybe the graphics department) cared enough to put in the effort to do anything more than was necessary to make a profit on the rental market. It’s a sloppy, unfunny and weirdly misogynistic movie, but it does have some pretty cool video game battle sequences, and that’s all that matters to the boy. Much as I don’t like exposing him to the concept of a world where Kevin James could become President, he’s fascinated by old-school video games (he </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>adores </i>the <i>Pixels</i> version of Q-Bert) </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and his taste in things is generally good enough that I’m not too concerned. Plus </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pixels</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">’ utterly predictable use of “We Will Rock You” got him interested in Queen. That’s a pretty solid byproduct.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Neither my wife nor I were exactly diehard </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Back to the Future </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">fans, but we were both pre-pubescents in the mid-1980s, which means the Marty McFly saga was more or less hardwired into our consciousnesses. Through a stroke of fortuitous timing, the boy happened to be home sick on the much-ballyhooed “Back to the Future Day” - the day in 2015 to which Marty travels in </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Back to the Future Part II - </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">which led to my wife queuing it up on Amazon, which led to him watching the entire trilogy over two days and devouring every pseudo-scientific scrap of it. I’m pretty certain he has a better grasp on the capabilities and limitations of the time-traveling Delorean than do I, and he even pointed out a couple of plot holes that never occurred to me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve somehow become a gainfully employed theater critic in the past few years, which means the boy sees far more live theater than I could have conceived of at his age. We had a good year of theatergoing, taking in everything from everything from big-budget stage productions to traveling puppet shows to a bunch of genial millennials frolicking around with a parachute. The one he talked about the most was an adaptation of Hans Christian Anderson’s </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://parksquaretheatre.org/box-office/shows/2015-16/the-snow-queen/">The Snow Queen</a></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> that he saw at Saint Paul’s Park Square Theater on a Sunday date with mommy. I’m a little envious that I missed such a memorable show, but I’ve heard enough about the mysterious queen, the singing peasants and the hilarious reindeer that I almost feel like I was there.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The boy has never seen Vic Savage’s bottom-of-the-barrel 1964 sci-fi flick, but he does love to hear me describe the trash films on which I squander so many of my precious hours. “This is like </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Creeping Terror</span><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” has become his shorthand for anything slow-moving or tedious. It’s probably my favorite of his many antiquated pop culture euphemisms, narrowly edging out “This makes no sense, like T. Rex words.”</span></span><br />
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Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-68667040584400247782015-11-25T23:43:00.001-06:002015-11-30T15:24:44.304-06:00The MST3Konundrum: A trash film aficionado at the crossroads<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l6Bx4PxcvXw/VlaeZQTTeQI/AAAAAAAAGqQ/fBhiZFrH6vk/s1600/king%2Bdinosaur.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l6Bx4PxcvXw/VlaeZQTTeQI/AAAAAAAAGqQ/fBhiZFrH6vk/s320/king%2Bdinosaur.png" width="320" /></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I can’t say for certain when I first became a fan of “bad” movies. There were a lot of potential gateways back in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, from the vintage Bela Lugosi clips spliced into </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Muppet Babies</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to the release of Tim Burton’s </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ed Wood</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to the sci-fi sampling of bands like Man or Astroman? Heck, even </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Seinfeld</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> had an early plotline about a screening of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Plan 9 from Outer Space</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. But the real keystone for me and most of my generation was </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mystery Science Theater 3000</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, or as it was frequently known at the time, “That cable show where the little shadow guys on the spaceship make fun of old movies.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My family didn’t have cable, so </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> was something of a forbidden fruit to be gobbled up on trips to my grandparents’ house or in stolen moments in friends’ TV rooms. When </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> unexpectedly turned up for a brief engagement at a movie theater 45 miles from my house, I cleared my weekend schedule and made it to three out of four late-night screenings. I was excited moving into my college dorm because I’d finally have a cable hook-up on which to watch </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, then crushed when I discovered my college’s cable package didn’t include the Sci-Fi channel.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve always been passionate about my favorite art, but not many shows spurred me to that kind of dedication. What was it about </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">that inspired such fervor? Well, for one thing, it was funny as heck. It was a kind of funny I’d never seen on TV before, yet it seemed oddly familiar. When I learned that </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">was a Minnesota production, it all made sense. On its surface the sense of humor embodied by Joel Hodgson and the show’s writers was gentle, laconic and borderline corny, but concealed just beneath the surface was the melancholy acidity of a darkness that dared not speak its name. That was the same Minnesota sensibility I’d been drinking in at family gatherings my entire life. It was amazing to see it channeled into something so strange and singular and broadcast for an international audience.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was the comedy that drew me into </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">in the first place, but it didn’t take long for me to develop an appreciation for the movies that made the whole thing possible. Much like the sense of humor, the movies mocked by the crew were unlike anything else on my television. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">was my first exposure to the weird world of low-budget filmmakers like Bert I. Gordon, Coleman Francis and even Roger Corman. The La Crosse, Wisconsin area didn’t have a “midnight movie” host like Svengoolie, but even if it had, the </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> repertoire went beyond the usual public domain monster movies and mad scientists, pulling in </span><a href="http://mst3k.wikia.com/wiki/Escape_2000" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Italian apocalypsploitation</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, </span><a href="http://mst3k.wikia.com/wiki/Godzilla_vs._Megalon" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Japanese </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">kaiju</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, </span><a href="http://mst3k.wikia.com/wiki/The_Unearthly?file=320s1.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">educational film strips</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, </span><a href="http://mst3k.wikia.com/wiki/Operation_Double_007" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">James Bond knock-offs</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, </span><a href="http://mst3k.wikia.com/wiki/Wild_Rebels" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">biker flicks</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, </span><a href="http://mst3k.wikia.com/wiki/Santa_Claus_Conquers_the_Martians" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">kiddie Christmas movies</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and much more. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At some point I realized I was getting as much pleasure out of the movies themselves as I was from the riffing. Eventually that led me to start seeking out “bad” movies on my own. At my current stage in life, a solid 90% of my cinema intake is stuff that the average viewer would understandably shut off five minutes in. In the past couple of years, I’ve discovered a number of groups of like-minded people both online and in real life. It’s been a lot of fun swapping trash titles with oddballs on </span><a href="http://letterboxd.com/staircar/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Letterboxd</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, keeping tabs on the </span><a href="https://drafthouse.com/series/weird-wednesday" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Weird Wednesday</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> lineup at Alamo Drafthouse and ducking into my local </span><a href="http://take-up.org/series/10/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Trash Film Debauchery</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and </span><a href="http://tapefreaks.blogspot.com/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tape Freaks</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> screenings. As I’ve gotten to know more of these z-movie devotees, I’ve discovered a curious phenomenon: quite a few of them hate </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have to admit, I sort of get where they’re coming from. If you’re a fan of something, it’s understandable that you’d resent it being known primarily as the butt of a joke shared by thousands of philistines. In a particularly heartfelt review, for example, Letterboxd user pd187 declares Coleman Francis’s much-maligned </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_bm1Bd83qrc" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Beast of Yucca Flats</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> “evocative desert noir” that’s “close to a masterpiece for real” before concluding that “mystery science theater is garbage for idiots.” My pal Joe, a sometime </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">fan and as dedicated a cinephile as I know, recently punctuated a rave review of Rondo Hatton’s </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Brute_Man" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Brute Man</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> with “I don’t know what the inhabitants of the Satellite of Love had to say about this movie and I don’t want to know.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I haven’t seen </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Beast of Yucca Flats</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Brute Man </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">minus the riffing, but I do appreciate many if not most </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">targets on their own terms. Even the legendarily bad </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Manos: The Hands of Fate</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> stands as a uniquely realized piece of outsider art. If someone knocked, say, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gamera </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">or </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bloodlust </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">or </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Crawling Eye</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> as objectively bad films in private conversation, I would be quick to leap to their defense. Yet somehow, I don’t have a problem with them being lampooned on </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. I think that’s largely because I sense a genuine affection behind the mockery. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The invective hurled by Joel, Mike, Tom and Crow, especially in the show’s Comedy Central years, feels rooted in an appreciation of the oddness and ambition that got these movies made. You don’t come up with a sketch like </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HnVWXUzlPeY" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Peter Graves at the University of Minnesota”</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> if you don’t love Peter Graves movies on at least some level. The sheer breadth of knowledge that went into the average episode of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, with non-stop references to pop culture history, scientific ephemera and barely scrutable in-jokes, pegs it as a labor of love.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HnVWXUzlPeY" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Still, I’ll acknowledge there are some legitimate knocks to be made against the show’s handling of its movies. Probably the biggest is the editing. Even though the show aired in a two-hour block, making time for commercial breaks, host segments and short films usually meant that the feature’s run-time was trimmed down considerably. In some cases that was arguably doing the movies a service - if you’re not a regular viewer of trash cinema, you have no idea how much mind-numbing padding got stuffed into the movies of the drive-in era. Often, though, that meant cutting material that might be important to the film. Most notoriously, the MST3K version of </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EdIOMTXkfdA" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Sidehackers</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> deleted a brutal rape and murder scene that was the catalyst for everything else that happened in the movie. It feels somewhat dishonest to mock a movie’s incoherence when you’ve actively made it less coherent.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And then there’s the meanness critique. As much as I think </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">originated from a place of love, sometimes the barbs got pretty harsh. There are multiple accounts of the Satellite of Love crew drawing the ire of their riff targets. It’s one thing to hear possibly apocryphal stories about big fish like producer </span><a href="http://mst3k.wikia.com/wiki/Sandy_Frank" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sandy Frank</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or actor </span><a href="http://mst3k.wikia.com/wiki/Joe_Don_Baker" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Joe Don Baker</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> grumbling about being ill-treated by TV puppets, quite another to learn about the genuine hurt feelings at a cast screening of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">’s take on the homemade dorkery of </span><a href="http://mst3k.wikia.com/wiki/Time_Chasers" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Time Chasers</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Kevin Murphy says no less an icon of empathy than Kurt Vonnegut once </span><a href="http://mentalfloss.com/article/53849/15-things-you-might-not-know-about-mystery-science-theater-3000" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">gently upbraided him</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> for belittling the efforts of artists just trying to do their best. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I absolutely don’t want to start yet another Joel vs. Mike argument (for the record, I prefer Joel by an inconsequential margin), but I do feel like the show got meaner once Mike moved from the writer’s room into the host’s jumpsuit. As I said before, even when he bared his sardonic teeth, Joel always gave the impression of being a genuine fan of these films. Mike, on the other hand, seemed more interested in putting them in their place. It’s no accident that the motto of Mike’s post</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">-MST3K</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> project </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rifftrax</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> is “Because some movies have it coming.” I hold that Michael J. Nelson is the most purely funny person ever involved with </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mystery Science Theater</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, but having read his </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Nelsons-Movie-Megacheese-Michael-Nelson/dp/0380814676" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Movie Megacheese</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">book, I came away with the impression that the guy just doesn’t much like movies unless they’re Jackie Chan vehicles or </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Roadhouse</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To me, the difference between Joel and Mike is the difference between gently chuckling at a sad-sack friend and pointing and laughing at the neighborhood weirdo. I can certainly see why you’d take issue with that, especially if you happen to be fond of that weirdo. I know I’ve cringed when </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rifftrax </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">has taken on movies I genuinely dig, like </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DSwbf-SFyC8" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Death Promise</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">or </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XQpdZzfXDs" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Attack of the Puppet People</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. On the other hand, some of the films pilloried on </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> come awfully close to being objectively bad. Watching </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5twP_19CEA" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Creeping Terror</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">on its own is a painful slog (although I still have a certain affection for it), and I don’t know if I could even bring myself to attempt the confounding mess of </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FYQK5jRQpUk" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Monster a-Go Go</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> un-riffed. There’s almost zero artistry to a dreary, uninspired </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jaws </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">cash-in like </span><a href="http://mst3k.wikia.com/wiki/Devil_Fish" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Devil Fish</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, but Mike and his robot friends manage to mine whatever fun there is in the thing.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As a genuine lover of low-grade cinema, I think it’s possible to appreciate both the films and the mockery thereof. I may enjoy the heck out of something like</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uqVL8blr-rw" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Beginning of the End</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, but I can’t pretend there’s nothing funny about Bert I. Gordon attempting to pass off grasshoppers crawling across a Sears Tower postcard as a giant insect attack on downtown Chicago. And then there’s that gateway effect I mentioned earlier. Given my general proclivities, I probably would have stumbled into the world of trash cinema sooner or later, but </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> gave me an easier in-road than I ever would have found poking around the dustier corners of my local video shop.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A fair number of the movies spotlighted on the show would likely have remained in obscurity if not for the exposure they got from their </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">roastings. Perhaps movies like </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Manos</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sCl2ZNkfnS8" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pod People</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sa42pxJyq64" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Space Mutiny</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> would have found tiny cult audiences on their own, but they certainly wouldn’t have become the iconic items they are today. And somewhere down the line, we cross over from laughing at these films to laughing with them. Ask any </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">fan for an opinion on </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4cN8RgFYrQg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Zap Rowsdower</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, the mullet-sporting, denim-draped anti-hero of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Final Sacrifice</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, and you’ll get not scorn but genuine affection. We love Rowsdower in all his bizarre Canadian glory. Heck, we even put him on our</span><a href="http://www.redbubble.com/people/twynklebat/works/8511312-rowsdower-saves-us-and-saves-all-the-world?body_color=white&country_code=US&p=t-shirt&print_location=front&size=medium&style=mens&utm_campaign=shopping&utm_medium=google_products&utm_source=google&gclid=Cj0KEQiA1dWyBRDqiJye6LjkhfIBEiQAw06ITk6oUDI1TASeSMP4HDf8ofNyFLz4LHQ7KlqoeZzITBEaAis28P8HAQ" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> t-shirts</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Even the </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MST3K </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">haters would have to admit that’s a far better fate than languishing unwatched and unloved in the VHS bin of some resale shop.</span></span></div>
Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-38469531330854715692015-08-12T17:44:00.002-05:002015-08-12T17:59:21.271-05:00Five times awful rock audiences improved live recordings<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Few things in life bum me out more than having a show by a band I love ruined by a <a href="http://irabrooker.com/2012/01/02/fan-depreciation-five-sure-fire-tips-for-the-concert-going-dick/">jerky audience</a>. (Looking at you, dude who loudly sang along with every Bonnie "Prince" Billy song at Logan Square Auditorium. You too, drunk bros who heckled Cloud Cult at the Minnesota State Fairgrounds last summer. And don't get me started on every crowd with whom I've seen Wilco.) I have to admit, though, that sometimes a poorly behaved audience can help to create some memorable music moments. Most of the time that doesn't become evident until after the fact, but when it does it can be something kind of special. Here are a handful of occasions when boorish, clueless or just plain inexplicable crowd conduct yielded historic (or at least momentarily pretty cool) results.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Take No Prisoners</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> is the rare concert album that puts as much emphasis on the banter as it does the music, and for good reason. This is a perfect pairing of Lou Reed and a hometown New York City crowd circa 1978. Both are cranky, combative and ready to start swinging at a moment’s notice, but only one has quick wits and a microphone. The running narrative of the album reveals that Lou showed up late for the set, giving the crowd plenty of time to get drunk and resentful. New Yorkers, if you aren’t aware, don’t have a reputation for dealing with disappointment quietly. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There are too many incredible interactions for me to enumerate here, but a few highlights include Lou threatening to stop singing until everybody shuts up (the crowd calls his bluff), Lou demonstrating to a heckler how easily he can be drowned out with guitar feedback, and Lou pre-emptively quoting Yeats at the interlopers: “‘The best lack all conviction and the worst are filled with a passion and intensity.’ Now you figure out where I am.” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The best part is that most of this isn’t between-song banter - Lou’s fighting the crowd right smack in the middle of his songs, and neither he nor his band ever misses a beat. Heck, the opening track alone, a splendidly greasy, eight-minute rendition of “Sweet Jane,” yields a tour's worth of memorable quotes:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You ever put a quarter in those machines, man? Y’know, like the bear that plays basketball… I guess they never put a quarter in me, huh?”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Where were you on the list when they called you for Vietnam?”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We’re just here to make out. You bend over, we’ll put the head in. You don’t like it, then we’ll talk about it.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Fuck </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Radio Ethiopia</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, man, I’m Radio Brooklyn. I ain’t no snob, man.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“If you write as good as you talk, nobody reads you.” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And of course, a vicious “SHUT UP, YOU!” wedged seamlessly into the “Villains always blink their eyes” segment. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Some of the annoyance is doubtless genuine, but at the same time Lou clearly relishes the back-and-forth and the songs crackle with nervous energy. Any which way, it makes for some compelling listening.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In 1991 venerable Canadian punks SNFU put out their purported farewell album </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Last of the Big Time Suspenders</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, a mix of rarities and live cuts that serves as a solid document of what turned out to be the band’s mid-life rather than its finale. Near the end of their atypically anthemic cover of Eddie Money’s outlaw ballad “Gimme Some Water,” lead singer Ken Chinn stops singing for a beat to point out “That asshole jumping off the stage is wearing a swastika on his t-shirt, obviously too young to understand the serious connotations of such a fuckin’ stupid thing.” There’s a brief pause while the audience begins to buzz, then Chinn launches right back into the chorus. The electricity of the moment is undeniable. You almost feel sorry for the dimwitted Nazi kid getting his ass handed to him so succinctly, but mostly you just want to cheer on Ken Chinn’s righteous indignation.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The infamous 1970 Isle of Wight Festival has long been a standard-bearer for badly behaved audiences. Reports vary on what exactly caused the crowd's discontent and on exactly how ugly the scene really was, but by most accounts a bunch of angry young Brits made life miserable for everyone assembled for good chunks of the festival. The crowd was especially hard on several acts who had the temerity not to rock. Joni Mitchell famously told the audience they were “acting like tourists” before breaking down in tears and leaving the stage. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kris Kristofferson took a different tack, responding to the deafening boos with his trademark laconic acidity. Kristofferson sounds both exasperated and amused as he assures the crowd that nothing short of rifle fire will stay his musicians from making their appointed rounds. His band, playing what was only their fourth gig, then ambles into a particularly low-key rendition of “Me and Bobby McGee.” There aren’t many contexts where Kristofferson’s classic sketch of lost love and misspent youth could be taken as an act of passive-aggressive defiance, but that’s absolutely what it is here. Punctuated by the songwriter’s parting bird-flip to the crowd, it’s a perfect rebuttal to a bunch of ingrates.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Built to Spill is the kind of band that tends to take a little time between songs, largely because they’re top-flight musicians who care about sounding their best on every number. Unfortunately, plenty of concert goers interpret pauses in the set as an invitation to yell out song requests, and anyone who’s been to a show in the past four decades knows that means someone’s gonna yell out “Freebird.” During their 2001 tour, the band opted to respond to that ubiquitous holler by going ahead and playing “Freebird.” And not just a tease or a sarcastic nod - the whole damn song, note for note. As a guy who unabashedly loves both Built to Spill and “Freebird,” getting to see that live stands as an all-time highlight of my concert-going career.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don’t know how close to the stage the young lady captured on the </span><span style="font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Get Yer Ya-Yas Out!</span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> album could have been standing, but her voice comes through clearly enough that she almost seems to have a mic of her own. And what a voice it is: flat, toneless, devoid of passion yet somehow frighteningly insistent. “Paint it black,” she drones. “‘Paint it black. Paint it black, you devil. Paint it black.” </span></span><br />
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<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now, you might think she’s just requesting her favorite Rolling Stones song, but there’s a grim imperative in her delivery that convinces me that she’s actually demanding that the devil (which could be any of the Stones, but I presume to be Mick Jagger because c’mon) paint the intangible “it” black. The Stones pay her no mind, although they do break into a spectacularly inspired rendition of “Sympathy for the Devil.” Her spooky doggedness is perfectly in keeping with what was simultaneously one of the band's darkest and brightest periods. (The performances captured on <i>Get Yer Ya-Yas Out</i> took place just weeks before the Stones' fateful Altamont concert.) The woman is never heard from again. I understand some fan journal tracked her down a while back, but I'd rather not learn the details of her real-life existence. As a mystery interloper on a classic performance, she’s one of my favorite people ever. </span></span>Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-5105725595378154592015-05-07T10:39:00.001-05:002015-05-07T10:43:30.419-05:00Why I wallow in trash: A manifesto for loving unlovable art<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0No9lgQax60/VUt8zBUeAhI/AAAAAAAADpw/8808CiEwuj4/s1600/Jamaica%2BReef.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0No9lgQax60/VUt8zBUeAhI/AAAAAAAADpw/8808CiEwuj4/s320/Jamaica%2BReef.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In 1984 Donovan released a studio album that included </span><a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/47idZnECaYMshDwFsJq9bm" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">self-covers</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> of his ‘60s classics “Sunshine Superman” and “Season of the Witch” updated with 1980s-style production. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">Reading that sentence, most people would have one of three reactions: “That’s interesting,” “Who cares?” or “Donovan sucks.” Of those responses, only the third is objectively incorrect. Considering that those re-recordings probably exist only because a weary Donovan realized that revisiting former glories was the most likely path toward getting anyone to care about a new Donovan album in 1984, a curious shrug is about all the response anyone could be expected to muster.
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But me, when I stumbled upon the existence of these tracks, I couldn’t get them queued up in my Grooveshark (R.I.P.) playlist quickly enough. They're as bad as you'd expect, but this doesn't bother me one bit. This is my curse. When I learn about an absurd, ill-advised or quintessentially inessential piece of art, I simply can’t help myself. I need to incorporate it into my vocabulary. Zager & Evans followed up “In the Year 2525” with a </span><a href="http://atalentforidleness.blogspot.com/2013/04/zager-evans-mr-turnkey-awesomest.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">song about a rapist crucifying himself in a jail cell</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">? One of the guys from Jan & Dean recorded a </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SoBWe40pxHs" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">pro-Vietnam answer track</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to “The Universal Soldier”? The Royal Guardsmen laid down a decades-late sequel to “Snoopy vs. The Red Baron” in which </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zpFreidxEMs" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Charlie Brown and Snoopy hunt down and kill Osama bin Laden</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">? Yes, I am going to listen to these songs. I am going to listen to these songs many times over.
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s more than just curiosity for me. Knowing about songs like this inspires a peculiar drive in me. The same applies to bizarre film productions like </span><a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x18d6kl_billy-the-kid-vs-dracula-1965_shortfilms" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Billy the Kid vs. Dracula</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EEJmd-Jckro" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Rats are Coming! The Werewolves are Here!</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I’ll let any number of certified classics and new gems go unheard while I track down a recording of Jim Backus singing “</span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C8F_zs0h-_Y" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cave Man</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.” Given the choice between experiencing something perfect and beautiful and something flawed and inimitably weird, I’m siding with strangeness at least six times out of ten.
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This might sound like ironic appreciation, the calling card of the dreaded hipster, but I think it’s something quite different. In my younger days, sure, I’d watch bad movies and buy novelty albums for the sole purpose of mockery, and I’m always going to love </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mystery Science Theater 3000 </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">above most things. But as I’ve grown older the irony has ebbed and I find myself appreciating these things in their own right. I’d say I love them for what they are, but that’s not quite it. I love them </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">because</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> they are. Knowing that these things are out there, that someone took the time to create them and shepherd them into existence despite their obvious lack of broad appeal, is a fascinating, inspiring thing to me. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And it isn’t only the weird stuff either. I just finished watching </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rf0oaWC7i4g" style="text-decoration: none;">Treasure of Jamaica Reef</a> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">aka <i>Terror in the Deep</i>)</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, a very cheap, very boring 1975 movie about a group of divers (including Cheryl Ladd and Chuck Woolery) trying to salvage a fortune from a sunken ship. It isn’t good. It isn’t “so bad it’s good” (a phrase I loathe). It doesn’t even have the same weirdo appeal as the aforementioned novelty songs and trash films. It’s just a movie that exists, badly made and eminently forgettable. There is no reason I should have watched it, and that’s exactly why I did.
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(If I might digress for a moment, I've had some debates about the term "trash." Some fans of this type of stuff feel that term devalues the art. I suppose it rather literally does, since trash is by definition material of little to no value. But I think it's appropriate, inasmuch as most of the public absolutely regards these songs and films as worthless. Also, a lot of the art that gets tossed under the "trash" umbrella was specifically designed to be disposable - quickie singles recorded by session musicians to cash in on a passing fad, no-budget genre films intended as background noise for teenage drive-in patrons, hasty projects knocked out to fulfill a contract or qualify for a tax break. I'm fine with using "trash." In fact, I consider it a badge of honor.)
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I want there to be some evidence that movies like </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Treasure of Jamaica Reef</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> are out there. I want art to be eternal, no matter how uninspired or poorly made. My</span><a href="http://letterboxd.com/staircar/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Letterboxd</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> account is a hall of low-budget obscurities ranging from the incompetent to the derivative to the inexplicable, most of which are unloved and unknown by the world at large. Obviously not many people want to watch these movies, or listen to late-period Donovan albums, or obsess about the musical careers of</span><a href="http://atalentforidleness.blogspot.com/2011/10/adventures-in-liner-notes-dino-desi-and.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Dino, Desi and Billy</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Honestly, most people shouldn’t. But I think it’s important that </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">someone</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> does, because these artifacts are a part of our artistic heritage too.
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Are they as vital to our shared experience as</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">their canonically classic contemporaries? Of course not. But we do ourselves a disservice if we leave the ugly and the unremarkable to molder in the grave. I feel my artistic life has been deeply enriched by the time I’ve spent in the company of these misfits. I can make a lucid argument for scabrous trash auteur </span><a href="http://letterboxd.com/staircar/film/tenement-game-of-survival/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Roberta Findlay</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> being one of the most important female directors in American film history. I can sing every word of The Coasters’ </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKPUL4i4Fqk" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">On Broadway</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> album, the novelty band’s unjustly ignored assay into straight-up Southern funk. I know who LeSesne Hilton and Bennie Robinson and William Metzo are, and why each of them deserves a place among the great cinematic villains of the 1970s. I also know that there are many, many worse movies than </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Plan 9 from Outer Space</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Room </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">or </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Birdemic</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or whatever the de facto “Worst Movie Ever Made” is at the moment. I’ve subjected my eyes and ears to a lot of irredeemable, uninteresting, soul-deadening dreck over the years, but I don’t regret a second of it. These things are out there and they need to be kept alive, even if only inside my cluttered brainpan.
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All those classics of Western Literature can just slide to the back. We need that space for </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FH-fGndvWeQ" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Shriek of the Mutilated</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span></div>
<br />Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-47565495656898535952015-03-02T00:06:00.001-06:002015-03-02T10:35:08.963-06:00Lou Reed’s 25 greatest characters<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tj8KvjuZl9M/VPRkIuo5EII/AAAAAAAACw4/xCGI11vZaOQ/s1600/sally%2Bcant%2Bback.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tj8KvjuZl9M/VPRkIuo5EII/AAAAAAAACw4/xCGI11vZaOQ/s1600/sally%2Bcant%2Bback.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Any songwriter who stays active for five decades is going to rack up quite a roster of unforgettable characters. Lou Reed’s cast of grotesques, ghouls and tragic heroines could fill out a stack of novels, but I tend to like them just fine as songs. In honor of what would have been Lou’s 73rd birthday, here’s a rundown of a few of my personal favorites.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lulu’s had a rough go of it. She’s been neglected, prostituted, abused, idolized and left empty, and the image of her limbless torso on the </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lulu</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> album cover suggests there’s more indignity to come. She may be the archetypal Lou Reed heroine, as I think of it. Shame her album is sort of a chore to get through in one sitting.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">24. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">George </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “My Friend George, 1984)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The title character of “My Friend George” is an unhinged gym-rat avenger who spouts incoherent philosophy and attacks people with a stick that he apparently believes to be a sword. Some songwriters would cast George as a tragic victim of mental illness, but in Louville he’s some manner of small-time superhero. I can dig that.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">23. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Theoretical Children</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> (from “Beginning of a Great Adventure,” 1989)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You have to be careful assuming any artwork is autobiographical, but “Beginning of a Great Adventure” sure sounds like a tongue-in-cheek accounting of Lou’s real life self-debate about having kids. Lou muses on moving to the country and raising a home-schooled “little liberal army in the woods.” His 10-strong “TV brood” would be equally adept at playing guitar, planting bombs and shooting hunters in the nuts and be at Lou’s side when he’s “a wizened, toothless clod.” It sounds like our loss that he never let the baby thing go too far.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">22. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All of the Jim-Jims</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> (from “Heroin,” 1967)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don’t know who or what a Jim-Jim is, but according to “Heroin” New York was full of them in the late ‘60s and Lou’s contempt for them makes me believe they’re a thing to dread.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">21. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sweaty Dude </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “Animal Language,” 1973)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This guy lives in Heaven or something like it, yet his job involves placing a board between a dead dog and cat to keep them from copulating. Tough gig. On the other hand, the sexually frustrated pets resign themselves to shooting up his sweat, so his body apparently secretes powerful narcotics. I can see that making a crappy day job a little easier to take.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RdThuUlsxq0" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">20. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ed</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> (from “Wild Child,” 1972)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Walk on the Wild Side” is the most famous example, but affectionate lists of weirdos were a recurring theme in Lou’s songs dating back as far as 1967’s “Run Run Run.” “Wild Child” is maybe my favorite of those tracks, and the self-absorbed, cheese-loving Ed is my favorite of the song’s multiple grotesques. “I was talkin’ to Ed, who’d been reported dead by a mutual friend. He thought it was funny that I had no money to spend on him.” Ed’s a jerk.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">19. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dude with a Stiletto </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “Kicks,” 1976)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Kicks” runs neck-and-neck with “The Gun” and “Rock Minuet” as Lou’s darkest delvings into psychopathy. This one gets my nod for Lou’s unnerving use of second-person and chillingly casual delivery. This is a guy who lures his bar pick-ups to their violent ends for no greater purpose than staving off boredom, and the song’s laconic pace just makes the grimness all the more disturbing.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/p9Io9Mu7GqE" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">18. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mok </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “My Name is Mok,” 1983)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">OK, Mok isn’t technically a Lou Reed character. He’s the villain of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rock & Rule</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, a bizarre animated fantasy film that plays like the work of Ralph Bakshi on his most timid day. For most of the movie he’s voiced by Don Francks (best known as the original voice of Dr. Klaw on </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Inspector Gadget</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) as a smooth but ruthless rock superstar/supervillain clearly modeled after Mick Jagger. But all that changes when Mok finally sings his big show-stopping number, voiced by Lou. Despite its 1983 timestamp, “My Name Is Mok” is pure ‘70s Lou Reed, a snotty, swaggering self-paean that paints the singer as a supremely confident epitome of cool who would just as soon crush you as look at you. Sounds like somebody else I know…</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">17. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pedro</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> (from “Dirty Blvd,” 1989)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My problem with Pedro is my problem with “Dirty Blvd” overall: as strong as both creations are, they also come awfully close to being too on the nose. Not that there weren’t plenty of real-life impoverished Latino kids with abusive parents living 10-to-an-overpriced-room in New York City in 1989, but Lou lays it on so thick the song falls just short of tipping into caricature. But all is forgiven for that final verse about Pedro looking through a discarded book of magic tricks and hoping he can make himself fly away from his existence. With that finale Lou captures something primal and aching and it’s so tragically beautiful I just want to give poor Pedro a hug.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7z3TPwOT31g" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">16. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Heroine </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “The Heroine,” 1982)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Heroine’s story is already well in progress by the time we join it, and it seems to be going poorly. She’s standing alone on the deck of a sinking ship in the midst of a ferocious storm while a civil war rages amongst the crew. There may also be a baby locked in a box somewhere on board. Whether she can do anything to save anyone at this point is doubtful, but she can still “transcend all the men” and inspire some faith, however misplaced.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4jBNzQqjKJI" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">15.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> The Fat Blonde Actress </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “New Age,” 1970)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A casual ear might easily mistake the Fat Blonde Actress for the butt of the dark joke of “New Age,” when really she’s anything but. Both here and in the song’s semi-sequel “What Becomes a Legend Most,” she comes off far better than the smug fan who asks for an autograph as a preamble to bedding a faded star. Lou’s lyrics (and Doug Yule’s career-best vocal performance) imbue his leading lady with a dignity and presence that exceed her diminished standing on the Hollywood landscape. She may be “over the hill now and looking for love,” but she’s still more of a legend than her courtier will ever be.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/X_0hjyO6fFk" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">14. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Man </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “I’m Waiting for the Man,” 1967)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A perpetually tardy dude in black strolling up the street in P.R. shoes and a big straw hat cuts quite a figure. The song is all about the waiting - and the waiter is a fascinating character in his own right - but when The Man himself is on the scene there’s no question where your eyes go.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/W4VEXl4vsq4" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">13. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sally </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from "Sally Can't Dance" and "Ride Sally Ride," 1974)
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sally’s about as punk as they come, a sexually omnivorous New York City libertine who ignores gender norms, dabbles in modeling and imbibes drugs and whiskey on the dance floor. The song arguably casts her as a heroine, but this being Lou Reed’s New York, society isn’t going to let anyone get away with living that freely. Over the course of the song she also gets raped in Tompkins Square Park, is stuffed in the trunk of a Ford and presumably dies of either an overdose or murder. It’s no mistake that the song that introduces her, the album-opening “Ride Sally Ride,” is a somber dirge about hanging out at a party and relishing having a heart of ice.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/20_4NnRtlJU" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">12. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dirt </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “Dirt,” 1978)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sardonic vitriol is kind of Lou’s thing, and his venom never stung more sharply than on this ode to an anonymous poseur. It’s Lou Reed’s “Positively 4th Street,” minus the subtlety and wordplay, a spiteful celebration of the comeuppance of a scumbag “who’d eat shit and say it tasted good, if there was some money in it for ‘em.” The repeated invocations of the writ of Bobby Fuller suggest that this miscreant has run afoul of the law, but I doubt it’s the sort of infraction the police would bother with. The Law of Lou is a harsh one indeed.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/uhISuAzqZY0" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">11. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Candy </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “Candy Says,” 1969)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Candy doesn’t have much to like in her life. She hates her body, quiet places and big decisions. The bluebirds pass her by and she worries that other people are talking about her discreetly. Yet somehow her song is possessed of a flickering, sickly hope that lends it an odd beauty and keeps it from spilling into despair. It’s an aching portrait of the quagmire of late ‘60s femininity and life as a trans woman that loses none of its power in a modern context.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/oUUANzSB2Uc" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">10.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Jackie </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “Walk on the Wild Side,” 1973)</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I probably could have included every character from “Walk on the Wild Side,” what with their soul food and shaved legs and good head. But Jackie’s the one who’s always spoken to me the most, mainly because of that line about how she “thought she was James Dean for a day.” It’s a humanizing touch amidst Lou’s affectionate parade of Factory-made oddballs. Who among us hasn’t convinced ourselves we could be our romantic heroes, just for one day? But then I guess we have to crash...</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cAfP5BMKgjc" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">9. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Waldo Jeffers </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “The Gift,” 1968)</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lou Reed managed to create the definitive portrait of the Internet Nice Guy several decades before the internet was a thing. Waldo’s an insecure Pennsylvania college kid spending his summer break obsessing over imagined infidelities perpetrated by Marcia, his sort-of girlfriend in Wisconsin. He’s painted himself as a true romantic who has “intuitively grasped every nook and cranny of her psyche,” but really he’s a sniveling creep who regards Marcia as his inviolable property. Lou’s obvious disdain for his character makes it all the more satisfying when Waldo’s grand gesture goes as wrong as it possibly could.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-Mr9LtlMsFM" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">8.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Last Great American Whale </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “Last Great American Whale,” 1989)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is a song about a superhero whale who fights racism and oppression along the American coast (and sometimes as far inland as Chinatown, if you can trust your mother). It doesn’t make a whole ton of sense but gosh, is it a comforting fantasy to have a stoic behemoth lurking out in the depths and looking out for the little guy.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/xTlsSXNT2bg" width="420"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">7. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Fucked-Up Middle Class College Student </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “I Wanna Be Black,” 1978)</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Oy, this guy. You remember this guy from undergrad days, right? Got obsessed with another culture and claimed to empathize deeply with their beliefs, but only knew as much as television told him about their actual existence. This kid rattles off every “cool black dude” stereotype under the sun yet never sees that he’s most racist guy in the room.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/AO_IB661-PQ" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">6. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Little Joey Diaz</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> (from “Romeo Had Juliette,” 1989)</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Romeo Had Juliette” is Lou’s lyrical masterpiece, a little novella of meaningful gestures and perfectly chosen words. While the amorous Romeo Rodriguez and his slick black ponytail are the stars of the show, supporting player Little Joey Diaz is a marvel of economic characterization through dialogue. From his first line - “I bet you I could hit that light with my one good arm behind my back” - he’s instantly recognizable as that motormouth guy in your crew who drives you nuts with his yapping but is strangely endearing nonetheless. In the span of one verse he brags on his pitching prowess, downplays his disability, smokes some grass, engages in some light bigotry and celebrates the death of a cop. Little Joey packs more living into an evening of hanging on a street corner than most folks do in a month.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/LV86pwOnm4w" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Again, conflating an artist with his work is always dicey, but there are quite a few songs in the Lou Reed canon that are pretty evidently autobiographical, from the recovering addict of “The Last Shot” to the domestic homebody of “My House” to the cautious optimist of “NYC Man.” His powers of self-observation were never stronger than on </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">New Sensations</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">’ double-shot of “Doin’ the Things That We Want To” and “New Sensations.” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The former finds Lou attending a production of Sam Shepard’s </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A Fool for Love</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and getting lost in a reverie of all the art that knocks him out, particularly the films of Martin Scorcese. The latter isn’t much more than a simple recounting of a day when Lou had a good time riding his motorcycle on country roads. Both are filled with such an infectious, exuberant delight in the little joys of life that they make Lou Reed seem downright human. That’s no small feat.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">4. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Drella </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Songs for Drella</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, 1990)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve never seen a movie biopic that captures the soul of an artist and his world nearly as elegantly as does </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Songs for Drella</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, and I’ve read precious few biographies that approach it either. Lou’s album-length collaboration with John Cale is a passionate, conflicted, scintillating portrait of Andy Warhol crafted by two artists who cared deeply about their former mentor. Whatever your feelings on Warhol as an artist or a media figure, it’s hard for me to imagine anyone coming away from </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Songs for Drella</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> without a sense of loss and sympathy for the flawed, frightened, ferocious visionary portrayed in these songs.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">3.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Flophouse Guy </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “Street Hassle,” 1978)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This guy is a dick, but that’s sort of to be expected from a cat who’s presumably the proprietor of a New York shooting gallery. His amiably callous ramble on how to properly dispose of an overdosed house guest is the calcified heart of “Street Hassle,” a chilling stroll through a world where death and drugs intermingle easily with small talk and half-assed philosophy (“Some people got no choice and they can never find a voice to talk with that they can even call their own, so the first thing that they see that allows them the right to be, why, they follow it. Y’know what it’s called? Bad luck.”) “Street Hassle” is arguably the single greatest piece of music Lou ever recorded and this guy is vital to its jaded brilliance.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Caroline </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Berlin</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, 1973)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To say Lou’s opus of despair </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Berlin</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> is the story of a failing marriage would be putting it lightly. It’s an account of a marriage simultaneously imploding and exploding and threatening to destroy everyone within its orbit. While the he-said-she-said structure of the album’s narrative gives more or less equal time to her husband Jim, it’s Caroline who emerges as the heart of the story. She’s made her share of bad judgments, from serial infidelity to child endangerment, but Lou’s portrayal of Caroline is by far the more sympathetic. Like so many of his heroines, she’s an emotionally wounded woman butting up against a man’s world that refuses to let her live. By the time “Caroline Says II" rolls around we’ve heard Jim level a litany of charges against her, but her blank delivery of “You can hit me all you want to, but I don’t love you anymore” renders all of his complaints little more than petulant whining. Caroline won’t come to a good end, of course - she slits her wrists in her marital bed after Jim gets her children taken away by the authorities - and her tragedy is only compounded by her husband’s final smirk of “I am much happier this way.” Dark stuff even for Lou Reed, but damn if it doesn’t ring true.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jenny </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(from “Rock & Roll,” 1970)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If you’ve never had an artistic revelation like Jenny dancing to that fine, fine music, that marvelous moment of clarity when a piece of art slapped you in the face and showed you a world beyond whatever doldrums you’d been mired in, then I just don’t know how to respond to you. Jenny’s life was saved by rock and roll. Mine was saved by “Rock & Roll.” Maybe yours was saved by a movie or a book or a photograph or a play or a sunrise. Whatever your particular salvation, I hope you know where Jenny is coming from. Jenny is everyperson.</span></div>
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Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-83500932003755582562014-12-29T22:21:00.001-06:002014-12-30T13:28:56.919-06:00The top 7 pop culture items my son introduced me to in 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N_g1Py7e5ek/VKIn62sRf6I/AAAAAAAAAyY/qFSqqIYhNdg/s1600/heros%2Bguide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N_g1Py7e5ek/VKIn62sRf6I/AAAAAAAAAyY/qFSqqIYhNdg/s1600/heros%2Bguide.jpg" height="200" width="148" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My son turned five last week. It’s a good age, as all of his ages to date have been. My wife and I have had fun introducing some of our favorite things to him, but it’s been just as much fun watching him discover his own favorites and letting him share them with us. Here are seven of the coolest things I discovered in 2014 that I probably wouldn’t have without the boy’s guidance.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How to Train Your Dragon (Film)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One fateful family movie night in early fall, the boy requested a rental of Dreamworks' well-regarded </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How to Train Your Dragon</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. He's not one to get fixated on any one pop culture item (my slightly smug condolences to all the families who've endured several dozen viewings of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Frozen</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> in the past year), but every now and then he latches onto a serious favorite. We've seen </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How to Train Your Dragon</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> several times over and </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How to Train Your Dragon 2</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> twice in the theater. My wife and I regularly snuggle up with him on the couch to watch the Cartoon Network TV adaptation, which is entertaining enough that none of us like to miss an episode.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/oKiYuIsPxYk" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Plot-wise the original movie is nothing all that new - misfit kid bonds with a misunderstood animal and teaches his elders to reconsider their outdated traditions - but it's visually lovely (famed cinematographer Roger Deakins was an advisor on both movies) and full of appealing characterizations and rich world-building. I love how the films and shows avoid Disney-style anthropomorphism and let the dragons behave like pets and wild beasts. I’ve seen enough superfluous, wacky sidekicks in the past five years that watching an animal be an animal feels almost revolutionary. It's certainly struck a chord with the boy. I can't remember the last time one of our imaginary games didn't involve some manner of dragons.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How to Train Your Dragon (Books)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As much of an imagination-starter as the movies and shows have been, they don't hold a candle to Cressida Cowell's </span><a href="http://www.cressidacowell.co.uk/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">series of adventure books</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. The boy made the leap to chapter books this year, so we naturally had to check out the source material for his favorite movie. Turns out the books are goofier, grosser and considerably darker than the films (and given the last third of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How to Train Your Dragon 2</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, that's saying something). The </span><span style="font-size: 15.3333330154419px; line-height: 11.5px; white-space: pre-wrap;">names and basic personality traits of several major characters are the only threads that really tie the two together. </span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">While these dragons are markedly more anthropomorphic than their animated counterparts - they speak "Dragonese" and display human emotions - they’re still a far cry from Disney.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/-dO6MqSIvNw" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The ongoing saga of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, the misfit Viking boy doomed to be a hero, is fraught with horrors ranging from torture to witchcraft to slavery, and it's all fantastic. It’s little-kid high adventure that flashes me back to my favorite books from my own boyhood. Since October the boy and I have read nine of the series' eleven books (a grand total of something like 2700 pages). Every night I'm just as eager as he is to find out what happens next. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I think the boy’s favorite feature of the series is the <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xDz0fZkFmzo/U98cl66KTmI/AAAAAAAAZyQ/DLbr9ss1j74/s800/dragon10.jpg">detailed profiles</a> Cowell compiles for the various dragons. He can rattle off the names and defining traits of dozens of dragon species, from the Poisonous Piffleworm to the Brainless Leg-Remover to the Seadragonus Giganticus Maximus. He’s also invented a number of his own dragon species, which he describes with clinical precision and a perfect imitation of Cowell’s prose style. That’s a mark of some good kid-lit right there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was never much of a gamer - if it doesn't have Mario or NBA basketball players in it, I probably haven't played it - but it's a fact of modern-day parenting that video games are as much a part of today's pop culture childhood as VCRs were part of mine. With that in mind, we've let the boy explore some age-appropriate gaming on the tablet and computer. The biggest hit thus far has been </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><a href="http://machinarium.net/demo/">Machinarium</a></i>, an eerily beautiful puzzle and adventure game from the independent Czech studio Amanita Design. It's the deceptively simple story of a spirited little robot trying to rescue his friends from a group of robo-thugs who have taken over their metal-strewn home town. I say "deceptively" because I'll be damned if I can figure out half the puzzles. That's my science-minded wife's department. She and the boy have spent any number of hours huddled around her Surface tablet cracking codes and solving problems for their robot buddy. I'm content to just look on and nod as I watch the twin marches of time and technology troop on by.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Was (Not Was)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This one is kind of indirect, but I’m counting it anyway. During a conversation about dinosaurs this summer I naturally started singing “Walk the Dinosaur,” which naturally led me to show the boy the video on YouTube, which naturally led to me wondering about the rest of the Was (Not Was) catalog, which naturally led to me discovering that Was (Not Was) is a pretty good band. They pull off ‘80s funk about as well as anybody not from Minneapolis, and their oeuvre is both smarter and much more extensive than their several-hit-wonder reputation might suggest. The boy, of course, just likes “Walk the Dinosaur.” That’s cool too.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Iron Giant</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I picked up Ted Hughes’ children’s book (originally titled </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Iron Man</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> in the UK but changed for its American release for obvious reasons) at the library knowing only that it was written by Sylvia Plath’s husband and that Brad Bird made it into a beloved movie. It’s a fun, pleasantly melancholy book, particularly considering that Hughes wrote it largely to comfort his children after their mother’s suicide. I’m especially fond of the early going, when the Iron Giant mostly shambles about the English countryside eating metal. I’m less enamored of the closing chapter, where the Giant saves the Earth from an invading space bat, but of course that’s the boy’s favorite part. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The movie is as good as advertised, deftly transforming Hughes’ shaggy story into a moving Cold War meditation filled with lush hand-drawn animation and excellent voice acting. Bird wisely substitutes an overzealous military official for the space bat, creating a fantasy that blends smoothly with real-life fears and wonderments. It’s also a good way to ease kids into an awareness of Vin Diesel, a knowledge base that will be increasingly vital as they approach adulthood.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Local Current</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of the many things I love about Minnesota is that it’s one of the few places in America that would have a 24-hour radio stream dedicated solely to local music. I’d listened to </span><a href="http://www.thecurrent.org/local" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Local Current</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> on my computer here and there in the past, but it wasn’t until we bought a new car with HD radio capability that I really dug into it, and it wasn’t until the boy responded enthusiastically to the playlist that it became my default radio station. For whatever reason, Minnesota music speaks to him in a way other formats don’t. We tune in every morning on the way to preschool and chat about the different artists and song styles. So far he seems especially fond of Lizzo, Bob Dylan and Doomtree (I’ve caught him wandering around the house singing “Doomtree Bangarang, Doomtree Bangarang” several times). As a bonus, our Scion's dashboard display of the song title and artist name is proving to be a surprisingly effective tool for beginning reading.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Japanese Monster Movies</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ll own up to something embarrassing: before this year, I’d never watched an entire <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaiju">kaiju</a> movie without the protective sheen of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mystery Science Theater 3000</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. I’m not sure how that happened, as those movies fall perfectly within my sphere of interests, but there you have it. Fortunately, this summer’s </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Godzilla</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> remake generated some heavy buzz around the preschool water cooler and the boy started asking all sorts of questions about Godzilla’s origins, motivations and enemies. I’m enough of a trash film buff that I could give him semi-informed answers on those topics but eventually it was time to brave the movies themselves.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/YqirkvpBWww" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I decided to ease him into kaiju films with Gamera, the giant flaming turtle known as a “friend to all children.” We started with </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gamera vs. Barugon </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(a subtitled print which I read aloud to him) then moved on to the truly bizarre </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gamera vs. Guiron </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(aka </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Attack of the Monsters</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">), in which the titular hero rescues two Earth children stranded on a distant planet populated entirely by two attractive young cannibal women and their pet monster. After that we worked our way into the genuine article with </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Godzilla vs. Monster Zero</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and the marvelous </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mothra vs. Godzilla</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, easily our favorite of the bunch.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As much as the boy digs his Japanese monsters, he’s understandably bored by much of the perfunctory human-oriented filler material wedged in between creature battles (heck, who isn’t?), so it made for a nice compromise when we discovered Hanna-Barbara’s short-lived ‘70s </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Godzilla</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> cartoon on Amazon. That’s his favorite incarnation at the moment, but I’m sure we’ll get back to the movies in the near future, probably next time Mommy is out for the evening. Mommy does not care for giant rubber monsters.</span></span></div>
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Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-69531975053770382632014-10-31T00:11:00.001-05:002014-10-31T11:11:09.438-05:00What Bela Lugosi can teach every artist<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Bela Lugosi was destined for immortality from the moment he
donned the Dracula cape and arched his eyebrows for Tod Browning's camera. But
thanks in large part to Tim Burton, the last two decades have seen Bela achieving
a second everlasting life as the pitiable and desiccated muse of Edward D.
Wood, Jr. Casual fans could be forgiven for believing that Martin Landau's
portrayal of Lugosi writhing in a wading pool with a rubber octopus in <i>Bride of the Monster</i> was an accurate
depiction of Bela hitting bottom, but truth be told, Bela's career had dipped
lower than that any number of times. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've watched a lot of Bela Lugosi movies over the years. The Ed Wood movies are certainly in the lower tier, but at least they're made by a director with a distinct personal style and, more importantly, a genuine appreciation for Lugosi's talents and place in cinema history. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Compare that to,
say, William Beaudine, an insanely prolific, zero-budget hired gun who cranked
out endless, soulless genre pictures. Beaudine directed what I would classify
as the true low point of Bela's career, 1952's <i>Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla</i>. Lugosi's star was long since
descended by '52, but this movie has so little going for it that I don't
question the producer's decision to slap the star's name in the title and cash
in on what little bankability he had left. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Actually, Bela isn't even the star of the movie that
borrowed his name. He has fairly limited screen time as the mad scientist who
torments co-leads Duke Mitchell and Sammy Petrillo, a real-life comedy duo
whose entire shtick was doing a passable impression of Dean Martin and Jerry
Lewis. Mitchell and Petrillo's <a href="https://wfmu.org/LCD/21/petrillo.html">subsequent
lives</a> and <a href="http://gonewiththepope.com/">film careers</a> are
fascinating in their own right, but they're beyond excruciating in <i>Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla</i>,
playing a nightclub act stranded on a remote tropical island populated by friendly,
grotesquely stereotyped natives and one rogue geneticist who's determined to
transform Mitchell into an ape. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's an icky, unfunny wallow in undistinguished, undignified
filmmaking, but you'd never know it to watch Bela's performance. Bela gives it
his all, playing the role with all the sly intensity and creepy charm that
marked the best work of his younger days. Obviously he had to know he wasn't
involved with any kind of masterpiece - this was a star vehicle for a
professional Jerry Lewis impersonator, for heaven's sake - but it just wasn't
in Bela's nature to half-ass it for a paycheck. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've seen Bela waist-deep in all manner of dreck, be it playing fifth or sixth fiddle to the sub-vaudevillian antics of
the Ritz Brothers in <i>The Gorilla</i>, toddling behind Basil Rathbone as a mute manservant in <i>The Black Sleep</i> or<i> </i>lurching around the city stealing
spinal fluid in a ludicrous hairy mask in Beaudine's <i>The Ape Man</i>. (Side note: Bela Lugosi appeared in an inordinate
number of simian-themed movies.) He got handed scripts possessed of not an
ounce of imagination: he was repeatedly asked to rehash Dracula with
diminishing returns and made at least four movies wherein he played a scientist
driven mad by the death of his wife. It's safe to say that the vast majority of
Bela's résumé was irredeemable garbage. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/9Mi7beg4ey4" width="420"></iframe><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Despite all of that, I could not point you to a weak Bela
Lugosi performance. Even in the direst of cinematic circumstances, Bela threw
his heart into every vaguely drawn part. He played to the rafters, exuding
menace and charisma as he glowered over long-forgotten actors many degrees his
inferior. By all accounts he resented the hell out of his typecasting as a
horror movie heavy, but he never let that distaste leak through to the screen.
He did his damnedest to make sure people left the theater muttering, "That
was an awful Bela Lugosi movie" and not "Bela Lugosi was awful in
that movie."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Compare that ethic to any number of Lugosi's b-movie
counterparts over the ages. Bela was far from the only trained, talented actor
forced to slum it in terrible genre films. Lon Chaney, Jr's late-career
performances (<i>Spider-Baby </i>excepted)
range from bored to embarrassed. John Carradine never failed to deliver the
bombast, but many of his low-budget roles were scarcely more than disdainful paycheck
cameos. Vincent Price was dependable but prone to slipping onto hammy
autopilot. Donald Pleasance occasionally roused himself for a sketchy role, as
in <i>Raw Meat</i>, but more often than not
just looked irritated to be wasting his talents on such trash. Of all the great
names of bad horror, only Peter Cushing comes close to Bela in his dedication
to craft in the face of adversity. But even there, Cushing's screen persona was
far more mannerly, his menace much quieter. Even in the depths of dreck like <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZI22qIUcTg">The Blood Beast Terror</a></i>,
which found him wrestling a bloodthirsty humanoid moth-monster,<i> </i>Cushing was allowed his dignity. He was
certainly never left to stumble around a papier-mache jungle while being
outsmarted by Sammy frigging Petrillo and Steve Calvert in a gorilla suit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But Bela was, and he squeezed every drop of lemonade out of every
bag of lemons Hollywood handed him. Granted, he had a notorious opiate addiction
driving him to take work wherever it was available, but he could have easily
phoned in his performances in those low-grade cheapies and no one on set would
have said a word about it. But he never did, and that's remarkable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That's why I count Bela Lugosi as one of my greatest
inspirations. I've been writing for money and pleasure for my entire adult
life. In that time I've been asked to write all manner of things that do not
interest me in the least, and plenty more things I might initially have
dismissed as "beneath me." I'm the first to admit that I've made some
unadvisable choices in my writing career, but I can't come up with many
examples of me not putting my best effort into a project. Whether it's a
feature for a national publication, a concert blurb for a local magazine or
even a casual tweet on a Wednesday night, I try my hardest to make sure it's
the best piece of writing I can muster. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some of that is probably because I still believe - perhaps
foolishly - that I'm a writer on the rise and every piece of work I put out to
the world is a potential audition. I'll be interested to see whether I can
sustain this attitude if and when I find myself irredeemably over the hill and
past my peak, as Bela surely realized he was by the time he was paired up with
Petrillo and Mitchell, or when he was "rescued" by Ed Wood. It's one thing to give it your all when
there's a promise of greater things shimmering on the horizon and quite another
when all is lost and the art is truly just for the art's sake. Should I ever
come to such a turn, I can only hope that I manage to do it as gracefully as
Bela Lugosi.</span></div>
Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-70089158504319939172014-09-30T23:50:00.002-05:002014-10-01T09:32:47.568-05:00John Sebastian at Woodstock: Peak hippie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xm11pwFPx5Q/VCuFkBllObI/AAAAAAAAAuY/Zzl_fgo5AN4/s1600/john%2Bsebastian%2Byounger%2Bgeneration%2Bat%2Bwoodstock.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xm11pwFPx5Q/VCuFkBllObI/AAAAAAAAAuY/Zzl_fgo5AN4/s1600/john%2Bsebastian%2Byounger%2Bgeneration%2Bat%2Bwoodstock.png" height="178" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222;">When you think of Woodstock, any number of iconic musical images
leap to mind: Jimi Hendrix electrifying the national anthem, Sly Stone taking
everybody higher, Country Joe McDonald spitting curse words that still carried
some shock value, even Sha Na Na pioneering ironic anachronism to the delight
of the of the hippie hipsters. One performance that failed to enter the
national zeitgeist, though, was that of one John B. Sebastian. And that's
something of a shame, because John Sebastian's performance at Woodstock may be
the moment when America attained maximum hippie-dom, for better or for worse.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222;">Maybe more so than any of his contemporaries, John Sebastian
could only have been a product of the 1960s. He was an unapologetic dork who
somehow maintained a certain level of counterculture cred throughout his tenure
with the Lovin' Spoonful, despite specializing in catchy, frivolous folk-pop
tunes that made his Tin Pan Alley forebears sound edgy. Heck, one of the
heaviest numbers the Spoonful ever laid down was a blues-rock track urging parents
not to buy their children unfashionable eyeglasses.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222;">Obviously when the newly solo John Sebastian made his unexpected entrance at Woodstock, the crowd couldn't have been anticipating
anything too hard-hitting. Coming on the heels of a scabrous Country Joe performance, the prospect of Mr. Sebastian's lighter stylings probably
felt like a welcome breather. No one could have known they were about to be
swept under the most powerful wave of '60s stereotypes ever to hit the stage.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222;">Let's start with Sebastian's stage banter, as captured on
the <i>Woodstock </i>soundtrack album. Just before firing up a pleasantly gauzy rendition of "I Had a Dream," an audibly
excited and unmistakably intoxicated Sebastian looks to the crowd and yelps:</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222;"><i>"Far out... Far </i>around!<i> Far down! Far up!"</i></span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222;">That’s John Sebastian in a nutshell, addressing a half-a-million
strong crowd and using a once-in-a-lifetime pulpit at his generation’s defining
music event to launch a volley of weak wordplay straight from the dad-joke handbook.
But that’s not all. He follows up his multidirectional treatise with a truly
inspired run of stoner babble that would make the most hardcore drum circles
blush:</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>“I'd like you to hear a tune about... I guess about those
discussions I was talkin' about that I seem to have had in so many small
circles of friends around living rooms, around pipes when they weren't sellin'
no papers on the street and we weren't walkin’ around this beautiful green
place, smokin' and, uh, not bein' afraid. This is about... all of us. I </i>love <i>you
people."</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And the thing is, you can believe he really does love all us
people, both those gathered at Yasgur’s farm and by extension the rest of us
theoretically listening at home somewhere in the future. (In his defense, to
the extent that he needs one, Sebastian has since said that he wasn’t expecting
to play at all and was wrangled onstage by the show’s disorganized organizers
not long after smoking a ridiculous amount of weed and popping a pill of unknown origin – although not, as listeners might reasonably presume, dropping any acid.)
You could make the case that John Sebastian at Woodstock, or at least his stage
persona, was one of the purest embodiments ever of the hippie philosophy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course, there were plenty of problems with the hippie
philosophy, as evidenced in the most famous segment of Sebastian’s Woodstock
set, the performance of “Younger Generation” featured in the concert film. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Resplendent in his tie-dye jacket, bleached-out jeans and sandals, Sebastian
delivers what initially comes across as a sweet if idealistic dream of
eliminating the generation gap and treating children as equals. But it doesn’t
take long for the scenario to slide into extremes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>And I know he’ll have a question or two <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Like, “Hey Pop, can I go ride my Zoom?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>It goes 200 miles an hour suspended on balloons<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>And can I put a droplet of this new stuff on my tongue<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>And imagine frothing dragons while you sit and wreck your lungs?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>And I must be permissive<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Understanding of the younger generation</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now I’ll admit on the surface that looks a lot like John
Sebastian is advocating letting little kids try hallucinogenic drugs, but…
Well, I can’t actually come up with a but. He’s totally endorsing adolescent acid
trips, and the crowd seems to be with him on that topic. After completely
blanking on the next verse and enlisting the audience’s help in remembering his
lyrics, Sebastian doubles down on the “more drugs for kids” message:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>And “Hey Pop, my girlfriend’s only three<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>She’s got her own video phone and she’s taking LSD<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>And now that we’re best friends she wants to give a taste to me<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>But what’s the matter, Daddy?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Why you lookin’ mean?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Could it be that you can’t live up to your dreams?”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At this point Sebastian has moved into openly fretting that he
won’t be cool enough to let his theoretical pre-schooler drop acid with his
fast-living toddler girlfriend. But don’t worry – he quickly tells the crowd
that, “No, it’s not true, because we’re <i>doin’
it</i>!” Thus reassured that they won’t subject their children to the same
nightmare of a drug-free early childhood that their parents put them through,
the masses give Sebastian a hearty farewell as he ambles off into the gathering
dusk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now clearly I’m being a little unfair here. Those were different
times, and the light of modern context makes a lot of previously acceptable things
look rather untoward. Truth is, I kind of love ‘60s John Sebastian and his
dweeby sincerity. For all the eye-rolling hippie-isms, it’s oddly refreshing to
see someone so cheerfully dedicated to a mostly noble, mostly doomed movement.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Still, John Sebastian at Woodstock is as good an illustration as any of why punk
had to happen.</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-42810579599404702802014-08-12T00:43:00.001-05:002014-08-12T13:32:58.287-05:00On 'Toys,' Robin Williams and the birth of a cinephile<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-voLHD6QJoZU/U-mpZwuRMxI/AAAAAAAAAt4/HTq0CO2kCH0/s1600/Toys%2Bpic.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-voLHD6QJoZU/U-mpZwuRMxI/AAAAAAAAAt4/HTq0CO2kCH0/s1600/Toys%2Bpic.png" height="233" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1993
was the year I decided to become a cinephile. I’d always loved watching movies
with my family like any kid, but now I was a teenager and a regular reader of Roger
Ebert’s column in the Thursday newspaper. I made up my mind that I was going to
start seeking out movies that challenged me and gave me insights into truly
appreciating film. That wasn’t the easiest thing to do in Sparta, Wisconsin in
the mid-‘90s. We had three decent video shops and the usual array of gas
station and supermarket video sections, but classics and under-the-radar titles
were hard to come by. In lieu of critic-approved, capital-A “Art Films,” I made
do with whatever offbeat or indie flicks (Miramax productions, mainly) made it
to my local shelves. Early in high school I claimed Spike Lee’s <i>Crooklyn</i> as my favorite film. I’d go to
bat for <i>Mixed Nuts</i> as the most
underrated film in the Steve Martin canon. I was almost certainly the only 15-year-old
boy in Wisconsin who went to sleep beneath a poster of the Ted Danson
coming-of-age dramedy <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0110867/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1">Pontiac Moon</a></i>
every night.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But
before any of that, there was <i>Toys</i>. <i>Toys</i> wasn’t an indie movie by any means.
It was intended to be a holiday blockbuster for the whole family. In that
regard it was every bit the failure it was always doomed to be. It’s just too damn
weird an endeavor to have been embraced by the public at large. It’s borderline
unthinkable that a day-glo story of a manic man-child and his cognitively
disabled sister fighting to save a toy factory from a military takeover would even
make it past a table read, let alone be granted the budget to realize a litany
of massive, surrealist sets and a cast of top-tier stars, but such was the
power of Barry Levinson in the early ‘90s. The result was a ludicrous mélange of
lunatic designs and ideas with the unhinged energy of Terry Gilliam, the unlimited budget
of Steven Spielberg and the unfortunate sentimentality of Chris Columbus.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It
also had LL Cool J disguised as a sofa.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I
first saw <i>Toys</i> at my pal Nathan’s
house, viewed on his parents' dying VCR. The tracking was shot and the color
faded in and out, no way at all to watch a movie that depends so heavily on a
striking color palette. Nonetheless, I was mesmerized. It felt like something
that shouldn’t exist, and I was delighted that it did. I watched it again with
my own family at my first opportunity and was again enthralled with the
churning, multicolored gears; the indoor roller coaster hallways; the
life-sized dollhouses and mechanical duck crossings and endless, billowing
fields of grass. It wasn’t like anything else, and where I came from anything
that wasn’t like anything else was something worth loving.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And
the cast. The cast of <i>Toys</i> is
something else. Michael Gambon. Joan Cusack. (Never better – I had such a
pubescent crush on her in this movie.) LL Cool J. Donald O’Connor. Jack Warden.
Robin Wright. Yeardley Smith. Debi Mazar. (Remember Debi Mazar?) Shelley Desai.
Jamie Foxx. Wendy from Wendy and Lisa. And of course, at the core of it, Robin
Williams. How could the motor-mouthed man-child heir to the world’s most
whimsical toy company have been played by anyone but Robin Williams?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Late
1992 was pretty close to peak Robin Williams. He’d redefined Disney movies
earlier that year with <i>Aladdin</i> and
had already cemented himself as a dramatic actor with <i>Dead Poets Society</i> and <i>The
Fisher King</i>. He’d anchored a high-profile flop with <i>Hook</i>, sure, but he was only a year away from the zeitgeist-smasher
of <i>Mrs. Doubtfire</i>. America was on the
back end of a solid 10-year stretch wherein Robin Williams <i>was</i> comedy. I was a little too young to have memories of his
coke-fueled standup heyday but I’d grown up loving him as a movie star. It was
the early ‘90s. Who hadn’t? For as out-there as the movie is conceptually, <i>Toys</i> finds him giving a quintessentially
Robin Williams performance, all funny voices and rapid-fire babble sprinkled
with earnest monologues. Somehow Williams never overpowers the movie
the way he could at his most unfettered (although he does cross over into irritation at times - when he manages to wedge in both his Michael Jackson and his Gandhi impressions, for instance). Maybe it’s because Levinson is
throwing just as much brain candy at the walls as Williams is and the two
creative forces balance each other out. Any which way, I count <i>Toys</i> as one of the best uses of Robin
Williams ever.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For
whatever reason I’d always glommed onto Williams’ least-loved roles. If you’d
asked me in 1993 to name my three favorite Robin Williams movies, I’d have told
you <i>Toys</i>, <i>Popeye</i> and <i>The Survivors</i>.
It’s probably been 20 years since I’ve seen <i>The
Survivors</i> so I can’t tell you if that one holds up – although it’s hard for
me to imagine that Robin Williams and Walter Matthau as hapless survivalists
circa 1983 would be anything but funny – but the other two are still at the top
of my list. Robert Altman’s <i>Popeye</i>
has undergone a critical redemption in recent years and finally gets some of
the praise it so richly deserves – seriously, Williams as Popeye is some of the
finest casting in Hollywood history. Poor <i>Toys</i>,
on the other hand, is remembered primarily as Barry Levinson’s greatest folly,
to the extent that it’s remembered at all. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Watching
it again two decades later, on the day that Robin Williams died, I can understand some of
the animosity. It’s sometimes mawkish, sometimes heavy-handed, sometimes
outright annoying. The blending of childlike wonder and adult themes is uneasy
and occasionally a little creepy. But by god, it’s just as weird a beast as it
was in 1993. There’s nothing safe about it. It’s visually creative and stimulating
to an insane degree, especially for a pre-CGI movie. The story goes
surprisingly dark but never sacrifices a genuine spirit of whimsy. The sets are
astonishing. Joan Cusack is still a revelation. And Robin Williams is a force
of nature, bouncing off the walls both figuratively and literally in a
performance that seriously could not have been given by any other human. It’s a
movie that failed at so many of the things it set out to do but succeeded in
teaching me the power of a beautiful failure. For all its flaws, <i>Toys</i> was essential in making me a lover
of cinema.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Plus
the soundtrack features a pretty cool Thomas Dolby song. </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-76581112225170304002014-07-31T23:59:00.001-05:002014-08-02T13:16:30.867-05:00Putting Weird Al's "Word Crimes" on trial<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Weird Al
Yankovic clearly struck a chord with the nation's English majors when he
released his "Blurred Lines" parody video "Word Crimes"
earlier this month. The deftly worded excoriation of people who use poor
grammar and punctuation on the internet racked up nearly five million YouTube
views in its first two days and was disseminated by high-profile sites from
Pitchfork to the Washington Post. A lot of the song's leverage also came from self-proclaimed
"grammar nerds" sharing it in their Facebook and Twitter feeds, often
(in my experience, at least) accompanied by a comment about the poster's own
frustration with dimbulbs who don't know when to add an apostrophe to
"its."<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/8Gv0H-vPoDc" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Decrying
the decline of spelling and grammar is a refrain as old as the internet, or at
least the social components thereof. Online defense of the King's English is
swift and frequently vicious. Any slight typo that slips into a publication is
met with a flurry of "Don't you people employ a copy editor?"
comments. A simple "there/their" mix-up is grounds for dismissing a poster's
entire thesis, however cogent it may otherwise be. Even in a
character-restrained environment like Twitter, using texting-inspired
space-savers like "ur" or "thx" can be enough to earn a
block from certain folks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The
disciples of "Word Crimes" no doubt see themselves as important
gatekeepers, a bulwark against the dumbing down of our collective discourse.
But are online displays of bad grammar really symptoms of creeping stupidity?
Or is it just that everybody has a different skill set? Sure, there are plenty
of lazy or willfully ignorant writers on the internet, but there are also scads
of legitimate excuses for having poor grammar, including reading disorders,
English as a secondary language, lack of access to quality writing instruction,
or just plain not having a knack for words. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Given the choice, a lot of those
people probably wouldn't put their writing on public display, but in the social
age that's often the only viable way for them to stay connected to their
friends and family. It isn't necessarily that language skills have declined so drastically in recent years. It's just that we're seeing more language from people who used to have the option of keeping that particular shortcoming to themselves. I personally know a number of very intelligent but grammar-challenged people who are reluctant to post anything online for fear of the mockery that will inevitably come the first time they confuse their plural and possessive forms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If Weird
Al had made a video shaming folks who don't get trigonometry or who have a poor
understanding of personal finance, would it have gone as smugly viral as
"Word Crimes"? If so, an awful lot of grammar nerds would find
themselves on the receiving end of the same condescension now being heaped on
people who struggle with the rules of writing. I count myself among the
fortunate folks who have a natural aptitude for the written word, but I'm the
first to admit that I have grievous failings in plenty of other areas of
scholarship and communication. That doesn't make me stupid, and the same goes
for people who don't grasp the function of quotation marks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't
want to bag on Weird Al too hard here. "Word Crimes" seems generally
good-natured and spotlights some of the sharpest wordplay of Mr. Yankovic's
career. What's more concerning is how the song has validated and brought to the
forefront a mean-spirited strain of privilege-dripping pedantry. Sure, there's
some merit to the grammarians' hullabaloo - it's hard to think of a valid
reason to use textspeak outside the confines of texting or Twitter, for
instance - but for the most part it's an argument that places form above
function. Heck, I've known storytellers who can bring a room to tears with a
piece that barely resembles English on paper, and I've edited essays by
award-winning authors who still begin every paragraph with a superfluous
"So." I've also edited more than a few technically perfect pieces
that wound up being too godawful dull to publish. If writing can be both
imperfect and effective, what's the benefit in punishing every minor
infraction?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Besides,
do those of us who excel at writing really want everybody else climbing into
the same boat? We're lucky enough to have a fairly rare skill that gives us an
edge in many facets of life. Why not take pride in that rather than scorning
those who don't? When I go out to a nice restaurant, the chef doesn't come to
my table and belittle me for not being able to cook as well as he does, nor
does he follow me home to mock my meager attempts at preparing my own dinner.
There's a silent contract in place that I appreciate his artistry on its own
terms and he respects that I'll do the best I can with what I've got. Nobody
needs to accuse anybody of food crimes (which, come to think of it, sounds like it should be a Weird Al song title).<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/w-0TEJMJOhk" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Let's
all lay off the grammar-shaming and appreciate "Word Crimes" as Weird
Al's cleverly written poke at an eminently pokable Robin Thicke song, not some sort
of manifesto for folks who know their plurals from their possessives. Or better
still we could skip ahead to "Foil." Mocking conspiracy theorists via
a Lorde parody is the kind of shaming everybody can get behind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<br /></div>
Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-89038843842293455322014-06-13T01:10:00.000-05:002014-06-13T08:19:40.183-05:00The ‘Star Wars’ saga: a running commentary by my 4-year-old son<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t0dQwuF_Lwo/U5r6XITWTeI/AAAAAAAAAs4/WENjaNAB7pM/s1600/vader-luke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t0dQwuF_Lwo/U5r6XITWTeI/AAAAAAAAAs4/WENjaNAB7pM/s1600/vader-luke.jpg" height="228" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Right up
top, let me say my wife and I aren’t those parents who foist all their old
childhood favorites on their kids in the interest of nostalgia. Yes, <i>Star Wars </i>was a huge part of my
childhood. I was an American boy in the 1980s, so how could it not be? But I
swear our son came by his fascination with <i>Star
Wars</i> organically, mainly by browsing books in his preschool library. The
Lucasfilm marketing juggernaut is an unavoidable force, and its target audience
begins pretty much in the womb. He started picking out <i>Star Wars </i>books every time we went to the library, asking to play various
kid-oriented <i>Star Wars</i> games on the
computer and generally geeking out as much as someone who hasn’t seen the
source material possibly could. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last
month we decided he was finally capable of handling the movies – he knew every plot
point of them already – and thus we all settled onto the couch for a family
trip through the Lucasverse. The films didn’t disappoint, but they did inspire
a <i>lot </i>of questions and commentary
from the boy. I’ve trimmed down his more or less nonstop verbal barrage to a
few pertinent points that I think capture the <i>Star Wars</i> experience through my son’s 4-year-old eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"When will Governor Tarkin
be in this?"<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Having
read up on the <i>Star Wars </i>universe
extensively, the boy was excited to finally meet all the classic characters
he'd grown to love from a distance – Luke Skywalker, Chewbacca, R2D2, and every
kid’s favorite, Grand Moff Tarkin. I don't know why Peter Cushing's evil
bureaucrat made such a pre-screening impression, but the boy spent much of the
film's first 20 minutes wondering about his whereabouts. But hey, if he digs
Peter Cushing, he and I have a whole lot of low-grade monster movies ahead of
us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"It's weird that Jabba the
Hutt is in this."<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jabba
the Hutt was, oddly enough, the boy's gateway to Star Wars. His preschool
library contains a Clone Wars tie-in book called <i>Watch Out for Jabba the Hutt</i>. Minus the context of Jabba's
villainy, the boy deemed him "cute and cuddly." By the time we
watched <i>Star Wars</i>, he knew enough of
the series' continuity to understand that Jabba was not supposed to make an
appearance until <i>Return of the Jedi</i>.
Of course, George Lucas changed all that when he slapped a digitized Jabba on
top of the actor who played the cruel crime boss and inserted a long-deleted
scene back into the 1997 special edition. It's a wholly extraneous scene that functions
mainly as fan service – it’s patently obvious that Harrison Ford is meant to be
talking to a human being. I was happy that its incongruity stood out even to a
first-time, pre-adolescent viewer.</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>"Is that a Light-Sider or a
Dark-Sider?"</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The
Force splits the universe into a pretty clear-cut dichotomy of good and evil.
That seems to be a comforting concept for a four-year-old just starting to
appreciate that life traffics mostly in scary shades of grey. Hence, he
required near-constant confirmation of every minor character's allegiance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Biggs will be OK, because
he will become Lando."<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A while
back at an antique shop we picked up a <i>Star
Wars</i> picture novelization that included a story thread that got deleted
from the movie, in which Luke has a philosophical conversation with his
childhood friend Biggs, who is leaving Tatooine to join the Rebellion. Biggs
eventually dies while flanking Luke in the attack on the Death Star, but the
boy was unconcerned by his passing. See, in his first appearance in the book,
Biggs wears a cape and has a dark moustache. When we meet Lando Calrissian in <i>The Empire Strikes Back</i>, he also wears a
cape and has a dark moustache. That's enough of a resemblance for the boy to
chalk it up to what I assume is some manner of Force-related reincarnation. I
choose to think that's a refreshingly colorblind point of view.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"What did Yoda say?"<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The boy
came into the series with a pre-abiding love for all of the iconic <i>Star Wars </i>characters, but one of the
biggies didn't live up to his expectations. My son is not a Yoda fan, largely
because he usually has no idea what the heck the diminutive Jedi Master is
saying. Turns out "guttural Grover with inverted syntax" is not a
universal language, at least not for 4-year-olds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Yes! That will teach
you!"<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was
the boy's exuberant response as Boba Fett went flailing to his ignoble demise
in the Sarlac pit. He did <i>not</i> take
kindly to Mr. Fett facilitating Han Solo being frozen in carbonite. I was
actually a little unnerved by how upset he got with the Dark Side, sometimes
openly rooting for their deaths. The kid just hates evil, I reckon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"That Ewok is having
fun!" <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Y'know,
grown-up nerds can bag on the Ewoks all they like, but so long as kids' eyes
light up at the sight of a furry little warrior whooping his way through the
forest while barely clinging to a hijacked speeder bike, they're OK in my book.
While I'm at it, the conventional wisdom that <i>Return of the Jedi</i> is a lackluster final chapter to the series is
hogwash. That movie is fantastic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Why do so many people get
their hands cut off?"<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Obviously
I was aware of the parallels between Luke and Anakin Skywalker each losing a
hand, but until I watched all of these movies in a compressed time frame I
never noticed just how many hands get chopped off over the run of the series.
Luke, Anakin, Count Dooku, the Hoth Wampa, General Grievous, that dude in the
cantina – it has to be an average of at least two hands per movie. George
Lucas's severed-hand fetish is even more pronounced – and more unsettling –
than Quentin Tarantino's foot thing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Jar-Jar Binks is always so
silly."<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is
one point of divergence for us. The boy had generally positive reactions to
Jar-Jar Binks, adolescent Anakin Skywalker and <i>The Phantom Menace </i>as a whole. I suspected going in that I –along
with most of the movie-going public – might have been too harsh on Episode I
when it came out, but I quickly learned that if anything, I'd been too easy on
it. That movie is garbage and there is no good thing about it. Still, the <i>Star Wars </i>marketing folks have done a
good job of cementing it in the canon. For younger viewers, characters like
Qui-Gon Jinn and Jar-Jar Binks are every bit as much a part of the saga as are,
say, Lando Calrissian and Boba Fett.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/9jmF900DHKk?rel=0" width="560"></iframe></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Anakin has really nice
hair!"<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That's
the nicest thing anyone has ever said about Hayden Christiansen's performance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">OK,
that's the easy joke, but I'll admit I was actually rather impressed with
Christiansen's Anakin Skywalker on this viewing. Sure, he's over the top a lot
of the time, but no more so than the role demands. On the whole, it's a nicely
old-fashioned performance filled with the kind of outsized intensity and emoting
that would be right at home in the serialized space operas that inspired <i>Star Wars </i>in the first place. I'd chalk
up Christiansen's truly egregious moments – and there are a number of them –
mainly to George Lucas's writing and directing.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I wonder what Obi-Wan is up
to."<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was
probably my favorite comment of the series, delivered in the middle of yet
another interminable exchange of purple passion between Anakin and Padme. I
really liked <i>Attack of the Clones</i> and
<i>Revenge of the Sith</i> this time around,
the former especially, but the general contempt for George Lucas's attempts at
romantic dialogue is well deserved. The boy was right – no matter what Obi-Wan
was engaged with at that moment, it had to be more interesting than that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>“Oh no.”</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A quiet,
pained whimper at the moment when Anakin officially switches allegiance from
the Jedi to the Dark Side. A cool thing about watching movies with a kid is
bearing witness to pure, visceral reactions that we old folks have been trained
to suppress. It’s heartwarming and heartbreaking to see a melodramatic movie
moment warm and/or break someone’s heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I'm happy that Darth Vader
turned good again because he didn't want to fight his son."</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On
second thought, this was probably my favorite comment of the series. The boy is
young enough to get excited about stories where good wins out in the end, and
the added sheen of a restored parent-son relationship seemed to make him
particularly happy. Granted, that puts a lot of pressure on me not to become a
universally recognized embodiment of evil, but I knew going in that parenthood
would involve some sacrifices.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7576243297251582426.post-79928674219237620552014-03-02T21:50:00.000-06:002014-10-09T09:18:45.645-05:00The mistrial of Lou Reed's "The Original Wrapper"<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No one can say Lou Reed didn’t provide his critics with
plenty of easy targets. I’m the kind of fanboy who can give you at least a
half-hearted defense for every punching bag from <i>Metal Machine Music</i> to <i><a href="http://atalentforidleness.blogspot.com/2011/11/hey-i-kinda-like-lou-reed-and-metallica.html">Lulu</a></i>
(although I’d have to strain myself a bit to rally for <i><a href="http://atalentforidleness.blogspot.com/2010/03/meditations-on-lou-reeds-hudson-river.html">Hudson River Wind Meditations</a></i>). One point where I’ve always rolled
over and admitted defeat, though, is the much-maligned “The Original Wrapper”
from the equally spurned <i>Mistrial </i>album.
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you don’t know “The Original Wrapper” by title you might know it as “that Lou Reed rap song.” That’s an accurate description on the surface. It was 1986, and hip-hop had the zeitgeist by the throat, especially in Lou’s New York. America was starting to see the first wave of weird and cynical rap cash-ins: advertisements playing on the inherent “hilarity” of unhip white people trying to rap, Super Bowl champions gleefully looking like <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxIRJp14_cM">hip-hop dweebs</a>, whatever the hell <a href="http://www.avclub.com/article/funky-man-case-file-19-ramones-bassist-dee-dee-kin-82034">Dee Dee Ramone</a> thought he was doing. In that context, Lou Reed jumping onto the rap bandwagon makes a certain amount of sense.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I
don’t think that’s quite what Lou was doing. Sure, taken at face value, “The
Original Wrapper” looks like an unwieldy attempt by a middle-aged white guy to either
ride the latest trend or mock it. The Guardian called it “<a href="file:///C:/Users/Ira/Documents/TFI/gob-smacking%20misfire">a gob-smacking misfire</a> from a man
occasionally seen to be the epitome of art-rock cool.” A Dangerous Minds blog takes it as Lou laughably and semi-defensively
laying claim to the title of “<a href="http://dangerousminds.net/comments/when_heroes_stumble_lou_reeds_perfectly_awful_rap_song">one
of music’s original rappers</a>.” The AV Club’s Jason Heller <a href="http://www.avclub.com/article/sex-with-your-parents-motherfucker10-less-than-coo-105005">hyperbolically</a>
calls it a "complete annulment of everything that ever made [Lou] cool" and accuses him of "making fun of rap while he's trying to ride on its coattails." </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even a comparatively <a href="http://blogs.citypages.com/gimmenoise/2009/01/the_popstream_l.php">charitable
observer</a> like City Pages' Nate Patrin calls out Lou’s "half-assed rhyming" and "a beat that sounds like public-domain music you'd hear at the beginning of an infomercial for exercise equipment." No less a cultural titan than myself once <a href="http://irabrooker.com/2011/12/12/getting-a-bad-rap-five-failed-hip-hop-crossovers/">mildly lambasted</a> the song in print, griping that "Reed delivers a monotone ramble on AIDS, yuppies, Jerry Falwell and other hot-button issues of 1986, all the while employing waffle-making as some sort of inscrutable metaphor."</span><br />
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<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Now, though, I think all of us were selling
“The Original Wrapper” short. There’s simply no precedent for presuming that an
artist as savvy and iconoclastic as Lou Reed was just surfing trends, selling
out or being generally clueless. Show me even one other example from the man’s
artistic career of that happening and I’ll concede your point. (His weirdly
infamous <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iK6y9_0gsEg">Honda commercial</a> would only count if he’d written an original song for
it.) On the other hand, there is plenty of precedent for Lou mocking the state
of the arts via expert – and often misinterpreted – mimickery. Look at his
notorious <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AO_IB661-PQ">“I Wanna Be Black,”</a> a scathing satire of the type of white “fucked-up
middle-class college student” who idolized black culture yet limited his view
of it to what he saw in Blaxploitation films and heard on R&B records. Lord
knows that profile could fit plenty of Lou’s musical contemporaries,
particularly the British blues kids who mined a romanticized culture for
derivative sounds. That song makes a lot of listeners uneasy because the satire
cuts so cleanly that it’s hard to hear that Lou is mocking the commodification and
media packaging of black culture, not the culture itself. He does the same
thing more subtly with the iconic “Colored Girls” of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RsVLIiI8Vfo">“Walk on the Wild Side.”</a> I’d
say that their inclusion, and especially Lou calling attention to their race,
is a dig at bands like the Rolling Stones trying to pump up their soul cred by
occasionally employing Bona-Fide Black People.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Maybe the most direct parallel with “The
Original Wrapper” is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aEgLc-ziRNE">“Disco Mystic”</a> from <i>The
Bells</i>. It’s a fairly straightforward disco track, although decidedly darker-toned than most of the genre. For more than four minutes, Lou’s band throws
together saccharine string riffs and an almost sarcastic guitar, with Lou
occasionally jumping in to grumble, “Disco…Disco mystic.” I’ve heard people
dismiss it as a weird attempt at making an actual disco-punk track, which makes
zero sense in the context of the wildly non-commercial environs of <i>The Bells</i>. For me, this is Lou
commenting on the creative bankruptcy and numbing repetitiveness of the current
trend, all while cockily showing everybody that he could do it too if he ever wanted
to. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There’s some of that in play in “The Original
Wrapper,” but the target is different. Rather than rap music itself, Lou is
mocking the eagerness of the media to co-opt this hip new trend. The lyrics are
layered with the hypocrisies and evil banalities of politicians and media types
who see hip-hop as a way to raise some revenue or score political points. As I
see it, the song’s title and refrain (“Hey pitcher, better check that batter /
Make sure the candy’s in the original wrapper”) make for a conveniently punny
warning not to be sucked in by corporate repackaging of hip-hop culture.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As for the content, this isn’t exactly
Public Enemy, but it’s an overtly political song that presages the social
commentary of Lou’s universally heralded <i>New
York</i>. It’s not a coincidence that Lou released this song as a single
alongside <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_-S0KmqXWw&feature=kp">“Video Violence.”</a> Both songs condemn the crass packaging and
marketing of violence by Reagan-era greedheads who simultaneously painted
themselves as moral guardians (“</span></span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Classic, original, the same old
story / The politics of hate in a new surrounding<span class="apple-converted-space">”)</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> and skewer the
supposed high ground taken by religious conservatives (“Reagan says abortion’s murder
/ while he’s looking at Cardinal O’Connor / </span></span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Look
at Jerry Falwell, Louis Farrakhan / Both talk religion and the brotherhood of
man / They both sound like they belong in Tehran”<span class="apple-converted-space">). The rhymes are clunky and the message preachy,
sure, but I could point you to half a dozen KRS-ONE songs from the era
that fit the same bill. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Also like KRS, Lou challenges
the critics who’d class hip-hop as lowest common denominator vulgarity and overstuffs some verses with polysyllabic verbosity. “D</span></span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">on't
mean to come on sanctimonious / But life's got me nervous and little pugnacious
/ Lugubrious, so I give a salutation / And rock on out to a beat really stupid</span>”
doesn’t really roll off the tongue, nor is it especially solid rhyming, but it
serves its tongue-in-cheek purpose.<span class="apple-converted-space"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The production on the single version really is as bad as its reputation, a dorky, cheap-sounding collision of tinny beats and amateurish scratching. It's interesting, though, that the song improves markedly in most of its other incarnations, including the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q7_zym_abrU">rockier version</a> featured on the <i>Mistrial</i> album. Take a listen to that or to any of the live renditions I've linked here. Different production doesn't transform "The Original Wrapper" into a great song, but it at least elevates it to mediocrity. Heck, the 10-minute live version above turns into a pretty sweet jam that one could almost call Velvet Underground-esque.</span><br />
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<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m not going to pretend that "The Original Wrapper" is some kind of unfairly slighted masterpiece. It’s too broad and goofy to
be especially effective satire. I’m not sure I’d even know it was aiming for hip-hop
if not for the title. The production is hopelessly dated in a uniquely ‘80s way
and the lyrics sometimes dissolve into gibberish. It’s probably best described
as a not particularly successful experiment that’s very much of its era. Yet
still I feel compelled to defend it, because it’s neither the colossal misstep nor
the tone-deaf trend-hopping it’s made out to be. It’s a weird, misunderstood song
that happens to be not that great but at least takes a stab at doing something
interesting. As with most things in the Lou Reed canon, that’s more than enough
for me.</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
Ira Brookerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00369958448191651449noreply@blogger.com1