Post without a Theme, Vol. 2

I'm back with another post without any specific thematic goal. Let's see if I can keep it tight.

Music:

I've given the The Zombies' Decca Stereo Anthology 2-CD set a week of traffic listening. Technically they only released one sorta-album "Begin Here" that was cobbled together by the label when they had their first successful single, "She's Not There". "Odessey and Oracle" remains their only intentional album. The Decca Anthology scoops together most of their efforts in the studio between 1964 and 1966 and remixes them from mono to stereo. The result is interesting but not as impressive as I'd hoped. "Odessey and Oracle" is amazing, everything before is generally OK. In their early stuff I find little sign of what was to come.

CD 1, chronologically earlier tunes, sounds like a bit like early-Beatles-lite, albeit a little more jazzy. A lot of harmonizing about kissy-poo things. "She's Not There" stands out because it's trippier and crazier. Their other hit "Tell Her No" can be taken as really demeaning to women since the girlfriend in the song is treated like a mentally-disabled child. The theme is, paraphrased, "If she tries to f--- you, tell her no because she's supposed to be f---ing me."

CD 2 is much better. Though the songs are generally about smoochy subjects, The Zombies seem to be ironing out their own sound. My favorite tracks on the album are actually the final four, which are just the instrumental backing tracks for some of their songs. The tunes are very cinematic.

Alas, "Odessey" stands alone. But that's okay, at least it exists.

Movies:

"Une Femme Est Une Femme" - Saw it, love it. Godard wins this round as well. I really enjoy his early cinema -- a lot of playing with expectations, music, archetypes, and cliches. This one is almost pure bliss, though both intelligence and a lack of directorial modesty hide well behind all of the antics. The film belongs not to Godard, but rather Anna Karina (whom he scooped up for himself around this time). If one were to edit out all of her mugging for the camera, all that would remain would be 5 minutes of Jean-Paul Belmondo smoking.

"Antonio Gaudi" -- Hiroshi Teshigahara's documentary on this Spanish artist is mostly a head-scratcher. The art and architecture are shot and edited beautifully. I gained an appreciation for Gaudi's creations. That's about all of the positivity that I can dig up. Teshigahara chooses to have no narration whatsoever, which in theory is a great thing. Documentary talking heads can be the equivalent of radio's dead air. But the lack of non-visual information forces the viewer to focus on the rest of the sound, which is uneven at best. Moody eerie music alternates with symphonic pieces, neither of which really influences the visuals. Rather than highlighting the potential multiple reads that one can get from Gaudi's art, they instead clash in a more irritatingly drawing too much attention. Also, there's about 60 seconds of spoken information and on top of being largely irrelevant, one doesn't know who the talking head is or why that information is chosen. I'm left wanting to know more about Gaudi, but not in a good way. I'd rather start fresh, ignoring that I ever actually watched this movie.

"Iron Man" -- Enjoyed it. Was exactly what I'd expected, which is a good thing since I expected a lot. It's not Jean Vigo, but it's the perfect summer movie. Casting against type worked very well. Good call Favs. Robert Downey Jr.'s screen presence did not wane for a moment and Jeffrey Lebowski was really creepy as Obidia whatshisname. And Gwenyth Paltrow was smart and gorgeous. Here are some pictures of Gwenyth Paltrow:

Post without a Theme Vol. 1

I really have no theme in mind today, but I must catch up. This will help me get some perspective too.




Kristen and I have settled on a new apartment and will be moving there during the first week of August. We'll be living on the Hollywood side of the Beverly Hills border (also known as South San Vicente Boulevard). To be honest, we can't stand the current neighborhood and hate the neighboring family. I know 'hate' is a strong word, but if a person's very existance makes my life worse --> then you take three of those persons and shove them into a 1 bedroom apartment next to mine --> 'hate' begins to seem too soft a word. And the cute little park across the street is the source of more noise than a freeway. I'm too embarrassed to read my original post about this place.


So it's movin' time again. KP and I are much too used to this. My place of work will be moving to the correct side of the hill in September, about 1.5 miles away from the new apartment. If I'm still working there, my commute will be on foot.


Baseball has been relatively benign. The All-Star festivities illustrated for the rest of the country what a sicko pathetic idea it was to level Yankee Stadium for the new complex. Josh Hamilton's first round of the Home Run Derby was beautiful to witness, though the SEVEN superlative slinging ESPN mouths almost ruined it. The sports media is doing their darnedest to try to keep Alex Rodriguez from reaching his destiny. It's none of my business and it's none of your business why, how, or if his wife is leaving him. He just needs to make his run at the home run and OPS leaderboard this year and then for another 7.


On a particularly down weekend I dipped into a little retail therapy and bought 4 CDs and 11 DVDs. Okay technically 5 DVD things, most with multiple discs. I feel no guilt about it yet, especially since it feels like my life has gained visual art from the purchases.


2001 was among these discs. I love that movie. It's best in a big theater of course. But it's a must-own because it's one of the few popular American classics that directly (or indirectly, depending on your read) addresses existence, higher powers, and the soul. And I just noticed that there's something going on thematically with the color red. Let me know if you have any ideas, and I'll think on it too. Anyway, Kristen viewed 2001 with me for the first and only time. Ever. She does not share my enthusiasm for that film.


We did agree, though, on Encounters at the End of the World, Werner Herzog's latest documentary. I'm game for anything he does. He could release a single two-hour un-edited take of the CVS pharmacy line and I'd pay to see it, though Encounters is much better than that. Once again, Herzog has found a group of eccentrics in the middle of the wild, this time it's Antarctica instead of the Amazon. Unsurprisingly, he was loathe to film anything penguin related, but he ultimately did and the result can be profound in its implications if you think on it long enough. I, of course, have. While driving. Anyway, KP and I both recommend the film.




The Velvet Underground continues to blow my mind in completion. Velvet Underground and Nico has always been one of my favorite albums. But last week I lived on the White Light, White Heat and The Velvet Underground diet. The former is 42 minutes of avant-garde dissonance about amphetamines. The latter is a whisper about love, regret, and solitude. The transition from 'Sister Ray' to 'Candy Says' has caused some sort of damage in my brain. I cannot reconcile that the human mind created such polar-opposite soundscapes, let alone the same group! Let alone ending one album and beginning the next in the same year! I'm left wondering, did Lou Reed ever find his mainline? Have you?

The Big Music Post

Firing up the post machine one more time. Don't know how much I'll be able to post until next weekend...


I've rediscovered my love of music now that I'm back out here in LA. Is it because of the traffic? Probably not. Is it because this town is groovier than The District? More likely. Or maybe I've just been yearning for some new sound. Either way, I feel better inside when my life's soundtrack is awesome. Here's a quick recap of my recent album purchases in the past two months:


Moby - Last Night - I was one of those who hopped on the Moby Train when Play came out. And then like most folks, I got Play-ed out. There was too much Moby everywhere. I also started noticing too many recurring sounds and repeated structures in his songs. Moby has said that Last Night is a journey of a full night of partying scaled down to 60+ minutes. And it's at its best when the sound doesn't sound like Moby. There are some interesting tracks like "Alice" that have international vocalists/rappers joining the party and these are always the highlights. Plus I always support concept albums. There's actually a 10-minute free mashup that he did of the entire album that, due to brevity, is better than the album itself. It's available here.



Portishead - Third - Awesome, terrifying, brilliant, and occasionally creepy. I haven't listened this one as much as the others on this list because it's such an intense experience. It doesn't help me get through the workday.


Raconteurs - Consolers of the Lonely - Just as freaking sweet as was stated in my less sober entry from a previous month. First track and last track are just as good on the 20th pass as on the 1st. Better perhaps. A good go-to when I have to rock.




Foxboro Hottubs - Stop Drop and Roll!!! - So yeah, these chaps may sound familiar as soon as the first song starts. A terribly kept Internet secret: it's Green Day's new album. The question arose, how does a band followup a bold rock-opera-esque statement album that was not only smart but really catchy? Plus American Idiot called the out the current administration as fools and fascists before it was fashionable to do so. How do you follow up a cultural phenomenon? With 12 tracks of nothing but '60s Pop, of course. One can dissect the lyrics of course, but the sound is so contagious that I haven't even attempted it.
Shadows of Knight - Gloria - I may have discovered a potential top 5 band. This 1965 release is as good as all of the snobby critics say. Yes, I realize that I'd said in a previous post that I hate white guys covering blues standards. But these kids are really good. Of course their original lineup only released one other album which I'll be snatching up later this month.





James - Laid - With Lanois and Eno on board, James sounds like they were trying to make their Joshua Tree. And the result is really good. "Laid" of course was the one single that folks remember but it sounds nothing like the remaining tracks. Most of the music centers around quiet meditations on spirituality, fractured relationships, and fear. U2 fans would probably like this -- songs like "Sometimes" "Say Something" and "Five-O" are broad, epic, and catchy enough to remind said fans of U2's earlier work.



The Kinks - Face to Face - My intention was to fall into bliss over The Kinks. I always assumed I would someday. But I haven't. Face to Face is a good album, but is so specifically about British society in the early 60s (every song is about money or class) that it's difficult for a Yank like me to relate. It's impressive as a social or cultural artifact. I'm really enjoying two of the songs. "Holiday in Waikiki" makes fun of Hawaii as a commercialised vacation place where everything (including the hula skirts) is made of plastic and no one actually is Hawaiian. "Rainy Day in June" creates an intense state of dread from start to finish.

The Kinks - Something Else by the Kinks - But I do like this album much better. "Waterloo Sunset" is a lovely as everyone says and has the best replay value of all of their songs. "Hairy Rag" and "Death of a Clown" are fantastic too. This one's recommended over Face to Face unless you're British and find more meaning in the earlier album that I have.



I've saved the best for last. The Zombies' Odessey and Oracle. I listen to it in my sleep. I listen to it at work. I'm listening to it right now. It's the 1968 psychedelic rock album by a bunch of guys who didn't drop acid. Every single song is good. It has zipped right up to my Top 10 Ever in two weeks. Of course, like Shadows of Knight, The Zombies only had two albums. Pisser. Anyway, some of the songs remind me of images from my childhood, others of my dreams, others of my lover. Plus it has an intense anti-war piece and the sexed-up "Time of the Season", their only successful single (wherein Colin Blunstone purrs "What's your name? Who's your daddy?"), all in about 36 minutes. I don't know how I happened upon this album, so I think it happened upon me.



On tap for the rest of the summer: The rest of the The Zombies' catalogue, ditto for Shadows of Knight, and two more Velvet Underground albums.

Three movies in one day!

I can't remember the last time I got in three flickers in one day. Whether back-to-back or spacing it out, it's easier when you're in high school or college. But, as time goes on, it gets more and more difficult to put away three movies in 14 hours. No matter what vitamins one may take.

I'll list these three in reverse viewing order.

Just finished The Diving Bell and The Butterfly. Kristen and I saw this in the theatre as soon as it hit LA in late 2007. In a year full of surprisingly good films, Diving Bell was a full head above the rest. It was my favorite artistically, literally, visually, spiritually, emotionally, and the soundtrack is just fantastic. There are moments in it where I feel like I'm watching the rebirth of cinema. And it reminds me why I feel like cinema is the great art with so many artists and artisans struggling together to make each heartbeat work. There is no exaggeration of recommendation that would be inappropriate for this. No only is it great art, but it is simultaneously deeply sad and joyous, insanely erotic, and humbling. Schnabel is a genius.

In the afternoon I watched John Turturro's Romance & Cigarettes. It was unfortunate that he had such trouble getting this picked up for distribution, though I do understand why. I mean, what American company wants to release a musical about a miserable blue-collar family? James Gandolfini, Susan Sarandon, and Kate Winslet are the leads while Steve Buscemi, Christopher Walken, Mandy Moore, Amy Sedaris, Eddie Izzard, and Mary Louise-Parker are supporting. Yeah, awesome cast. And the fact that this movie is so bluntly sexual is why I can't help but recommend it. I mean every scene is about rutting and every other line of dialogue fashions graphic descriptions of the act. If you're a Kate Winslet fan, yeah, you're going to want to watch this. Unless of course you'd rather not listen to her spout lasciviously about what she wants to do with specific parts of her/your body, in a British accent. And I still have something for Susan Sarandon (62 years hot, yeah believe it). Enough about the cast, how's the actual filmmaking? The musical idea is bold and works most of the time. The actual emotional journeys of the characters aren't holding up so well under deep reflection, but the general insanity that ensues in the process is refreshing and unique enough to hold its own.

I started my morning with A Clockwork Orange. That idea I don't recommend. I also would not suggest watching this movie with a loved one. The film is cold, cruel, bitter, and disturbing. It's one of the few movies that I'd rather wasn't made, but will defend to the death Kubrick's right to make it. The focus on rape and the destruction of the feminine can be a little overwhelming. This was my second pass at the Burgess-adapted experience. The first round, while in film school, elicited a blindingly negative response from some angry serotonin alcove of mine. I wanted to give it another pass when I could watch it on my own with pauses for hydration and walks in the sun.

When it was released, Ebert hated it while Vincent Camby loved it. I'm somewhere in the middle. Kubrick is brilliant and I'm fascinated in this divide that I've found in his career. I will defend his work pre-Clockwork every time, but post-Clockwork...well...it takes more effort to find the positives, let alone brilliance. Some sort of split happened in his filmmaking and the work seems more uneven -- Barry Lyndon, Shining, Full Metal Jacket, and Eyes Wide Shut -- and entirely lacking brevity. Clockwork's satire reaches for so many targets, striking some better than others, that it seems like a different filmmaker was left it its wake. Maybe it had to do with the public and legal response. Needless to say, it still strikes a raw nerve. I can't imagine a film with that much sexual violence and nihilism getting distributed in America today.

Baseball Motivation, Pt. 2

As promised, I'm checking back in with you about those new-contract-year players and their possible plummeting motivation. Click here for the original post. I did say that I'd revisit this at the end of the year, but the anticipation was killing me. Okay, maybe I was just a little bit curious.

The batters' charts are below:

41 games through the season on the left; 81 games through the season on the right --

The pitchers' charts are below:
41 through the season on the left; 81 through the season on the right --

2008 estimates courtesy of ESPN.

Here's the color key again:

Red = Large decline in production or serious injury during season.

Pink = Small, but noticeable decline in production and/or minor injury.

Gray = Generally equal to previous year.

Light Blue = Small, but noticeable increase in production.

Blue = Large increase in production

At the quarter mark -- Pitchers: 2 had a large increase, 1 had a small increase, 6 remained similar, 3 had a small decline, while 11 had a large decline. 48% large decrease, 61% noticeable or worse decrease.

Batters: 0 had a large increase in production, 3 had a small increase, 2 remained similar, 3 had a small decline, 14 had a large decrease. 64% experienced a large decrease, 77% experienced at least a noticeable decrease.

Now at the halfway point -- Pitchers: 2 had a large increase, 3 had a small increase, 5 remained similar, 5 had a small decline, while 8 had a large decline. 35% large decrease, 56% noticeable or worse decrease.

Batters: 1 had a large increase, 1 had a small increase, 5 remained similar, 4 had a small decline, 11 had a large decline. 50% had a large decrease, 68% had at least a noticeable increase.

So despite the larger sample of games, there isn't a large change, though there is a noticeable trend towards the center, see below for another color-coded example of the results:

Pitchers 1/4 mark: 2 - 1 - 6 - 3 - 11

Pitchers 1/2 mark: 2 - 3 - 5 - 5 - 8

Batters 1/4 mark: 0 - 3 - 2 - 3 - 14

Batters 1/2 mark: 1 - 1 - 5 - 4 - 11

If you look at each set of the three center (light blue, gray, and pink) numbers, the non-extreme categories, the pitcher total went from 43% to 57%, while the batter total went from 36% to 45%. My bet is that it continues to trend towards the middle like reliable larger samples should.

Still, GMs are only getting a positive (increased) return on their investments 15% of the time while they're seeing a decline 62% of the time.

It will also be interesting to see what happens in terms of injuries to these players. At the moment exactly 1/3rd of them have been hurt during the season. If one of my crap theories from before is true, then we should see a lot of injuries due to an adjustment in many of the players' supplements. Also the injury factor should play a large role if another of my crap theories is true: overpaying for older players.

Here are some other thoughts......Robinson Cano hits like Luis Castillo every first half, then hits like Lance Berkman every second half, so he'll likely be able to pull up to .280-ish and about 20 HRs by year end. Unless he gets hurt. Miguel Cabrera is making me sad. I really thought that he and Pujols would be racing to 3000 hits and 700 HRs 15 years from now. Ryan Howard also has great second halfs (halves?). Unless he gets hurt. Holliday will never catch up to last year's numbers. Halladay will. Again and again. Unless he gets hurt. Despite the Tigers' recent run, MAN did they do a bunch of bad signings. K-Rod, Nathan, and Mo Rivera are studs, and deserve their dough. I cannot prove anything that I just typed in this paragraph. Yet.

"A Black Ave Maria for you"

Just watched Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song. This kinetic firecracker with a core of powerful sexuality, starring (and I quote) The Black Community, is a piece of almost pure cinema. Shot on the very very very cheap, there's little sync sound which lets the camera go anywhere and everywhere. So the movie never stops moving, like Sweetback himself.

You see, Sweetback's on the run from Whitey after he smacks two cops around with his handcuffs. Melvin Van Peebles (as Sweetback, the director, producer, editor, writer, caterer, grip, and Lord) fashions an indie Odyssey as our hero makes his run from central L.A. to Mexico. The best Greek Chorus in cinema urges him on with "Run Mother----er Run!" Okay, henceforth and evermore it shall be referred to as the Sweetback Chorus instead.

There's a sequence of note that ends in a cop car bursting into flames. I know we've all seen this happen hundreds of times in movies and TV shows, but never is it as therapeutic as it is here. It meant a lot to me and I'm a 2008 Caucasian.

One doesn't need to be Huey Newton to appreciate S.S.B.S.'s strengths -- and there can be (and has been) much discussion about emancipation via a good shtup -- but as a piece of filmmaking it's crisp and alive so I recommend this one to anyone with an open mind or has "had enough of the Man".

Movie in a Minute (x4)

Let me take you for a quick spin around the four visually intense (intensely visual?) films that I've watched recently:

Thief of Baghdad -- Up to the minute and thought-provoking, this story about George W. Bush......okay, okay, sit down, it was a joke.

Okay, this 1940 Technicolor Arabian Night adventure story is available on DVD with a vibrant transfer thanks to the wonderful magical Criterion Nerds. Not only that, it has a commentary courtesy of Coppola and Scorsese! Marty says that the viewer has to just lose himself in the picture in order to truly appreciate it, apparently overlooking any filmmaking weaknesses. Though that's entirely true, giving your heart over to a film is lovely, there's also an edge to what he says since it seems to criticize those of us who titter at some of the dated silliness.

Look, I get it. It's admirable to make a picture full of youth and void of irony. But when you have one of the best villains, Jaffar (played with bravura by Conrad Veidt), in cinema history, you cannot have your Prince Ahmed played skinny, boring, fey, and with smears of purple eye shadow. Technically young Abu (played by Sabu) is the real hero, but when the lovers (not Ahmed and Abu, technically) don't even register in Technicolor, how is that a strength? And when a hero is stranded in the middle of nowhere, thousands of miles away from saving the day, it is never acceptable for a screenwriter to suddenly send him inexplicably to The Magical Land Where Anything Can Happen in order to finish the story. That's called cheating.

Pierrot Le Fou -- I have had a 10-year struggle with Godard that I'm trying to unwind and deconstruct. It shall rear it's head in many future postings. You can count on that. Now that time has passed I'm taking in his cinema again, not because I'm supposed to like it, but because I'm trying to find some sort of armistice here. Pierrot Le Fou has all of the stuff I love and hate about Godard.

There is no other director who loves the potential of the moving image like Godard or at least there is no other director who chased that potential to the edge of the medium like he. And Pierrot Le Fou is full of so much cinematic love and excitement. (Anna Karina co-stars and that is OK in my book, cinematically, whatever.) The early party sequence where everyone's dialogue has been reduced to regurgitating commercials......I love it, can someone just steal (pay homage) to that every year? It wouldn't be original but it would be true and false at the same time.

But amidst dabbling in painting, poetry, and fracturing all of storytelling rules, Godard's self-obsessed "characters" vomit out communist propaganda, loaded with chunks of anarchy. Sound like his Weekend? Though I agree with most of it, it comes off so proud, smug, and self-important that I almost turn into a capitalist. For a moment. But the image on screen is brilliant. And I see how he chose the opposite direction that Dylan took. Godard believes that the artist can or must be political, because if art can free your soul shouldn't it fight the forces that try to snuff out the spirit? I don't know, but 9 out 10 times it's so obnoxious that I disagree with him even though I agree with him. But 10% of the time......

There's this one scene where the two main characters put on a play about the Vietnam conflict. They stand there face to face screaming gibberish at each other. And I thought to myself, "Two individuals in costume screaming nonsense back and forth until it becomes absurd. This is War, is it not?"

So I guess Godard wins this round.

Southland Tales -- This is our generation's Dune. With its melancholy synth score, volumes of story rushed out through voice over and in-scene dialogue, heavy handed New Testament references, and stilted absurd lines delivered with the utmost monotoned severity, Southland Tales constantly reminded me of Lynch's take on Herbert's sci-fi tale. But I kinda like Dune. There's something about its moody somnambulism that I always remember wistfully.

I'm not saying that Southland is bad. Rich Kelly seems to take the impatient chili-making approach to filmmaking -- throw a bunch of ingredients into the pot and keep playing with them hoping that the end result is...well...chili.


I am glad he made this movie and I hope that he gets financial backing to continue his unusual career. He certainly got a fine performance out of his lead. Dwayne Johnson (yes, The Rock) has a great screen presence, not just because he's totally yoked, but he's got a great voice, expressive face, and is comfortable with self-parody.

If you do see this epic Venice Beach-filmed movie-thing, let me know what your favorite scenes are. My two favorites are the dancing sequences. Yeah, dancing. It was this close to being a musical about the apocalypse. How about a sequel?

Shortbus -- I'll keep this one brief. It took more courage to make this than any of the above films. John Cameron Mitchell (the brilliant sprite who made the electric Hedwig & the Angry Inch) and his co-writing cast put everything out there. And I do mean everything. Recently European filmmakers have been putting real sex on screen more often, but these films have been negative and depressing. Mitchell wanted to throw unsimulated everything up there for us to see without making us hate being human. To me, he succeeds. Do I recommend this? Well, if the thought of one man singing the Star Spangled Banner into the arsehole of another man while in the act of love strikes you as offensive or nauseating, then this is not for you.