The Daily Brief

Rachel Lucas reviews ROTK DVD (note her new URL):

There’s the Mouth of Sauron, for one thing. HOLY. SHIT. That thing utterly freaks me out. I finally found the part in the extras that shows how they did that – how they made his mouth look so huge and all cracked – and it doesn’t help me freak out any less. That thing is crazy bad. And the voice of it, while sounding just a wee bit Transylvanian, is really creepy.

Good grief, is it creepy. “Who would have thought one so small could endure so much pain? And he deeeed, Gandalf, he deeeeeed. Ahhhh.” Jesus!

Plus, it was pretty cool the way Aragorn rode up beside him all casual-like and then chopped his fuckin’ head off.

GreenDay has been one of those bands where I almost buy their albums. You know…you pick it up, you see a song or two that you’ve heard, but you’re thinking, “I’ll wait for The Greatest Hits.” And ya know…I was hitting punk clubs before Blondie and The Ramones went huge…so I’ve always sort of shrugged them off as wanna-bes, good wanna-bes but, I was in the third row when Blondie played The Aragon Ballroom in ’79 or ’80 so please…Dookie this mmm’k?

I know they’re not going to read this…but guys, I’m sorry. I haven’t been this glued to an album in a long time. You’re killin’ me here. Thank you for this album.

I owe Michele over at ASV and our own Styker huge for simply insisting that this album was worth some time because it’s not getting any airplay here in Nebraska…go figure…two of the best tracks are over nine minutes long.

Okay…I’ll stop with the gushing and try to tell you why this album is worth your money.

Think the first time you heard The Clash…or the first time you heard “HEY HO, LET’S GO” threatening to tear your speakers apart. No…not shitting you…the hair on my neck keeps standing up. Three guys….waitaminute…THREE GUYS ARE DOING THIS? And then it really hits you, yeah, three guys are making that sound and they’re not doing a lot…if any…overdubbing. Don’t get me wrong…it’s not as raw as The Clash or The Ramones were at the beginning…it’s produced, but not produced so much that anything is being hidden.

What gets me the most…is just when you think you know where the music is going next, there’s a break…sometimes it’s a smooth curve through the transition and other times…they do a complete 90 degree and I’m thinking “How the fuck did they do that?”

And there’s nothing really brand new here…it’s almost all derivitive…but no one else is doing this right now…and certainly no one has done it this well in YEARS. A punk rock concept album? Who do they think they are, The Tubes? Ummm, no, all apologies to Fee Waybill and the gang…this is better than just about anything The Tubes ever did.

I think I’m going to spend quite some time listening to this in pieces…one listen for the vocals…one listen just for Billie Joe Armstrong’s guitar…another for Tre Cool’s drums and his drums make me grin WIDE…another for Mike Dirnt’s bass…and then multiple listens to just grin about how they all blended in and worked together…except when they didn’t and those moments are worth it just for the intentional discordance.

How the hell does Billie Joe Armstrong sing and play the guitar at the same time when they perform live? His voice is going one way and his guitar is going the other. I’m talking completely different directions. I know musicians compartmentalize but this is just wrong.

Warning: This is punk rock in the old tradition. There’s anger, there’s raw nerves, there’s irreverance and blasphemy. They’re not happy with the state of things, and they’re in your face to tell you about it. If you want a nice comfortable album to listen to and be lightly entertained…find something else. If you want to pogo and slam dance and bang your head and do the move with the querky jerk…pick up American Idiot.

I’m in Audio East 12th Street.

Gotta find a pair of black canvas Converse High Tops…all there is to it.

Warning: Clicking any of the Survivor links will contain spoilers.
If you missed the Survivor Finale because you can’t read a freakin’ cable guide screen like your’s truly, The Shape of Days has a very good and snarky summary…without having to sit through all those long commercial breaks.

We finally got around to watching The Bourne Supremacy last night. All I can say is…wheeeeeeeeeee! The “How did they do that?” extras on the disk are worth watching too.

SciFi begins their two part Legend of Earthsea tonight. Yes, I’ll watch it, and no, I haven’t forgiven them for taking off Farscape.

Just now, I’m watching some show on Bravo singing the praises of Run-DMC’s lame scratch-n-sample cover of Aerosmith’s Walk This Way. Get a fucking clue, idiots. This is nothing but a totally pedestrian blues riff, It’s the flip side of Big Ten Inch, which dates from what, 1934?

All I can say is that the hope of popular music currently rests in three voices: Nora Jones, Alicia Keyes, and Diana Krall. Look for their influence to be pivotal in the next two decades.

I saw Kevin Spacey on Leno last night.

With “Beyond The Sea” getting ready to be the sleeper hit of the year, do you think pop radio should just start playing the soundtrack now? Or am I the only geek who thinks Bobby Darin was cooler than anyone on the charts today? Because frankly, I’ve had the title track in my head since I woke up this morning and even The Ramones aren’t driving it out.

Rolling Stone magazine came out with a second edition of their 500 greatest songs list a couple of weeks ago. And, as with any of their lists, it leaves a lot to be desired. Of course, tough calls have to be made; there’s only 500 slots. And I know I can name more songs I think should be included than those I think should be removed. But certain omissions are just puzzling. Foremost among these has to be Don McLean’s American Pie – how many months was that song at #1? Or how about The Pretenders’ Brass In Pocket, The Charlie Daniel’s Band’s devil Went Down To Georgia, i>, Yes’ Roundabout, or The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s The House At Pooh Corner? {note edit}

Oh, and a note for you whipper-snappers who might accuse me of being locked in a musical time-warp: only a couple of dozen songs on that list are from 1990 or later, and only about twice that number are from the ’80s. 🙂

One of the commenter’s included a link to his fanzine Heavy Metal Nightmare. I haven’t read all the issues but I’m all for the concept behind it, opposing all that is false in metal.

I’m not a metal head by any stretch of the imagination, but I know what I like and anyone who’s interviewing Dio with some level of respect deserves some more traffic.

I caught Dio when he opened with Rainbow for Cheap Trick back in the 70s. There’s another rock voice that just isn’t human, it’s more siren than voice. “Man on the Silver Mountain” and their version of “Street of Dreams” simply kicks ass…or they did 25 years ago…damn…I’m not sure what’s more amazing, that I remember it with such clarity or that I’m still alive 25 years after nights like that.

Anyway, now I know why he was correcting me on the proper flashing of the Devil’s Horns sign…he would know…and yet…not one article on the appropriate use of cowbell…huh.

This reminded me that I bought Beautiful Wife and I an early Christmas present last weekend: Evanescence, Anywhere but Home which contains a CD of their concert performances and a DVD of their concert in Paris.

Watching Amy Lee perform live is just about as much musical fun as I’ve ever had. She’s definitely not lip-synching and she ROCKS out the songs from “Fallen” in a way that you wonder if she really isn’t an angel who’s drifted away. It’s hard to believe that someone can bang their head and thrash around in pure joy/agony the way she does all the while singing in THAT voice. That voice…I get chills hearing it…still…and I’ve probably over-played “Fallen” until any normal human would be sick of it from sheer repitition.

Oddly enough, she reminds me of a young Stevie Nicks. Any of you old enough to remember the “Rumors” tour? Put that image of Stevie whirling like a dervish around the stage in your head and add some metal/goth attitude and about 2000 watts of energy and you get Amy Lee. When she brings it down on “My Immortal,” it’s just her and the piano…she will once again take your heart out just like she did the first time you heard it and you swear she’s never going to give it back.

Warning for those of you who are strongly Christian and have problems with any Satanic and or Wiccan Imagery: You will hate this DVD. Most of the kids in the Paris audience are flashing the “I love you.” Amerislang symbol (which is also, supposedly, the sign for Witchcraft) and there’s a scene where Amy bows in full “I’m not worthy.” fashion to Rocky the Drummer while he’s wearing a Satan mask with his drumsticks on fire. Acoording to Gorgeous Daughter (who keeps up on these things far more than I do) this is mostly a slam to the Christian Recording Industry for passing up on “Fallen.” I don’t know about that. I get more of a feeling of their generation expressing the silliness of taking such things too seriously. In my mind, “Fallen” is nothing if not an exploration of faith. What does it mean? Is there redemption? What does THAT mean?

Oh…what does the cowbell have to do with anything? You’ll just have to watch the DVD to figure that one out.

I have just learned that, on the new TBS series, The Real Gilligan’s Island, the part of Mr. and Mrs. Howell on one of the two castaways teams will be played by Glenn and Mindy Stearns. Married about one year now, Glenn is the CEO of First Pacific Financial. And is reported to be worth somewhere north of 1/2 billion dollars. (still well short of the Forbes 400).

But the real story is with the vivacious and beautiful Mindy Stearns (nee Burbano), who has lit the Los Angeles area on fire over the past few years, as entertainment reporter for local WB affiliate KTLA. She is sure to give the far more internationally acclaimed supermodel Rachel Hunter (“Ginger” on her team), not to mention the relatively unknown Kate Koth (“Mary Ann”), a run for their money on popularity.

Here’s an interesting piece of TV trivia which just crossed my desktop: It seems there is a cadre of guys out there on the web infatuated with the Ricola Girl. I must admit, she is very attractive young woman. In any event, if you are among them, you might be interested in knowing that her name is Ramona Pringle, and she has a website here.

I’m currently waiting for the start of I Am Sam, and watching what I hoped would be the first 1/2 hour of Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion (only for the sake of it’s great sound track) on Oxygen. Instead, I’m seeing some tribute to Colin Ferrell. SORRY, as if I want to see this in the first place, after Alexander the Gay, Colin Ferrell will be an instant has-been.

My family and I just returned from seeing National Treasure. As usual, some critics are so full of their own self-importance that they can no longer just enjoy a movie.

Okay folks, here’s a hint, if Nicolas Cage is starring in a Jerry Bruckheimer produced movie directed by Jon Turtletaub, your film majors are probably going to hate it. I have never given much thought to what film majors think.

I’m not a high concept guy when I actually decide to pack up the car and drive to the multiplex and spend up to $40.00 for my family to sit in a theater and eat overpriced popcorn and drink ridiculously priced watery Cokes. I usually only go to the movies when the big screen and big sound will be worth it. I see Nic Cage in a Bruckheimer movie advertised, I know there’s going to be blowing shit up and breaking things and it’s going to be “Suh-WEEEEET” according to Boyo. I also know that my brain will have to work a little…but not so much that it’s annoying.

National Treasure does not disappoint. As a matter of fact, it almost doesn’t let you catch your breath from one scene to another. It just keeps rocking and twisting and turning and giving you some pretty cool backdrops of America and some very cool although nerdy history facts. You’ll find yourself feeling damn proud of youself here and there if you know anything about U.S. History and I think there’s enough in there so that everyone should be able to figure out at least one clue by themselves and that’s part of the fun.

Nicolas Cage, Christopher Plummer, Jon Voight, Sean Bean and Harvey Keitel are almost all cast in their most recognizable stock roles. I’m okay with that. There’s very little trying to figure out who’s who or if anyone is going to wind up being something they’re not. All the figuring out is saved for history.

The critics missed the most obvious clue in the movie. This is an action movie for the people. As my eight year old said as we were leaving, “Quite the adventure!” Blink-blink…Beautiful Wife and I grin at each other. Why yes it was, wasn’t it?

I was listening to my favorite classic rock station on the way home from work, when another listener called in. The DJ took the call live, and the guy asked her what was the song and who was it by that she had played just before the one that had just finished because that was some awesome guitar. After some bantering back and forth, she told him it was “Never Going Back Again” by Fleetwood Mac. He then said, incredulously, “That was Fleetwood Mac?!”

I remember saying something similar in high school. “Stevie Nicks is in Fleetwood Mac?!” See, I could remember hearing the name Fleetwood Mac back in the 70’s, but I couldn’t place the band with any songs. So when I first heard Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around while listening to Casey Kasem do the American Top 40, I thought I was hearing Stevie for the first time. Loved her music. By the time her second solo album came out, I was definitely a big fan, but I still hadn’t made the Fleetwood Mac connection. Even in ’84 when Christine McVie went solo, and Mick Fleetwood formed his Zoo (both of which I saw on Solid Gold), I couldn’t place Fleetwood Mac. It was Tango in the Night that did it for me. I thought, “Wow. Fleetwood Mac is good band.”

When their greatest hits album came out, I rushed to get the tape. Shock and awe. I realized that I knew almost every song on that tape, and loved them. I set a goal to get every one of their albums. I have since given up that goal as I don’t like their early blues, but I have all of the albums since the 1972 Bare Trees album. IMHO, English blues is crap compared to American blues, and I make no exception, even for Eric Clapton. Sorry, my opinion, and no amount of argument will change my musical taste. I was even more shocked to learn that I knew a couple of Fleetwood Mac songs from before Buckingham Nicks joined: Albatross and Sentimental Lady. Yes I once yelled at a TV commercial for a compilation CD touting the songs as by the “original artists” when they played a snippet of Bob Welch’s solo version of Sentimental Lady. He did it with Fleetwood Mac first…and better.

I learned that Fleetwood Mac founder Peter Green wrote Santana’s Black Magic Woman. I also have to say I like Santana’s remake better than the Fleetwood Mac original. As I listened to Fleetwood Mac more, I decided that Eddie Van Halen is not the greatest rock guitarist in the world. Lindsey Buckingham is. I spent hours trying to play my guitar along with Lindsey. Then I saw him play, and I gave up. I’ve always sucked at fingerpicking and he plays a guitar with banjo-like fingerpicking. I’ve never had that kind of coordination. Guess that’s why it took two guitarists to replace him when he left after Tango in the Night. 🙂 I was really happy to see both Stevie and Lindsey go back to the Mac.

So what does this have to do with anything? Nothing. Just got to thinking about it, and decided to share. Any other Fleetwood Mac fans out there?

If there’s a sweeter set of background vocals than Paula Cole’s on Peter Gabriel’s Secret World Live, I’d love to hear about them.

Okay, Sgt Mom got me thinking…why not bring it out in the open.

What are the five songs that you’d rather just have someone put you out of your misery before you had to hear them again?

In no particular order and this is just off the top of my head before bedtime:

You Make Me Feel Like Dancin’ / Leo Sayer
Fast Car / Tracey Chapman
I Will Always Love You / Whitney Houstan
Sandman / America
Rock Me Gently / Andy Kim

Yeah, I’m stuck in the past tonight…what can I say? Really though, throw them out there, it’s amazing how good that feels.

Jay Tea over at Wizbang is having a bit of fun trying to speculate who else Jim Steinman could write for besides Meat Loaf and Bonnie Tyler. Who else has got the pipes for a Jim Steinman rock opera? You can go leave comments with him on that subject, I have to do my obligatory why I love “Bat Out of Hell” rant.

In the summer of 1977 I was getting ready to turn 16 and FM radio was a wasteland of Disco babies singing to that insipid heartbeat backbeat. We also had “Back in The Saddle” by Aerosmith and that was the year that “Rumors” got Fleetwood Mac noticed. Queen hit us with “We Are the Champions.” But we also had Shaun Cassidy torturing us with “Da Doo Run Run” and Dan Hill making the little girls cry with “Sometimes When We Touch.” Just kill me NOW. I’d complain about “You Light Up My Life” but that song got me to second base with a very blessed young lady so I’ll leave it alone. The Ramones were still banished to college radio and the Punk Clubs. My fake ID worked almost everywhere BUT the Punk Clubs.

Midnight Movies were where kids my age hung out. Led Zepplin’s “Song Remains the Same” was at the Uptown or the Nortown, The Fantastic Animation Festival…where Pixar first made it’s splash with the Desklamps was at one arthouse or the other, and a weird cult movie out of Britain called, “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” was going into nonstop Friday and Saturday Midnight rotation at The Biograph Theater on Lincoln Avenue. I’ll admit I did a decent Riff-Raff and even once did a night as Rocky, but I wanted to be Eddie. “Hot Patootie, Bless My Soul…I really love that rock and roll.” Besides…Eddie got Columbia and I LUSTED after the girl playing Columbia.

In the middle of all that throw in hormones raging and Boones Farm down by the lake drinking. Junior year was coming up…no longer a Frosh and already suffering from senior-itis. All of this was swirling around and around and around….out from the radio came a chilling voice…

“On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?” What the f*ck? Turn that up…”On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?” “Yes.” “I bet you say that to all the boys.” And “You Took the Words Right Out Of My Mouth” crashed through the clutter and the garbage and I was dancin’ barefoot in the arms of an angel at sunset on Morse Beach and all was right in the world for those moments. And yeah, we danced at Morse Beach to the radio…you got a problem with that?

The next day found a bunch of us at the neighborhood record store picking up, “Bat Out of Hell.” Produced by Todd Rundgren, backed up by most of the E-Street Band, and holy sh*t, Carla DeVito!!! She’s local!!! No sh*t she went to Loyola…she used to sing at Baby Huey’s…my brother DATED her!

Pure, unadulterated rock taken to operatic levels and with words every teenage kid in the neighborhood could understand. From “I know that I’m damned if I never get out and I know that I’m damned if I do…” to “We were glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife.” we got it. This was an albumn about summer, at the beach, with kissing and making out and all that stuff that made being a teenager bearable.

And that’s why “Bat Out of Hell” is to this day, one of my favorite albumns. Someone out there got it. Someone outside of our circle knew. Cuz ya know when you’re 16…you figure that no one gets you or your friends.