No posts for a few days: I'm going to Atlanta with friends to catch Sleater Kinney.Maybe I'll run into fellow Stylus scribe Josh Love. I'll post a full review this weekend.

O Canada!

It's official: Canada's parliament voted to recognize same-sex marriage. By a comfortable margin too.

Hall & Oates: A Handy Summary

My discovery of the year is Hall & Oates. Ubiquitous in the '80s, they've been trying to score a Bonnie Raitt/Ray Charles-style comeback for the last three years, to little success. What has been a success is realizing how great (with some qualifications) their peak-period product was. Like the Beatles, Stones, and Pet Shop Boys, to name just three random examples, they got weirder they more popular they got. Which is why the remastered editions of Private Eyes, H20, and Big Bam Boom haven't left my stereo in months.

Let's face it: H&O wrote great pop songs which, like all great pop, synthesized all that was most creative in the reigning subgenres of the day (new wave, synth-pop, arena-rock). That they succeeded without being likable is one of the great mysteries of the universe. I suspect their misanthropy (and misogyny) kept them from getting their critical due -- well, that and their popularity; five multiplatinum records, four #1 singles, and 12 top 10's between 1981 and 1985 awakened most pundit's rockist impulses). Some mini-reviews of what I've managed to hear:

Private Eyes (1981)
With the previous year's Voices, H&O found their voice: creating three-minute pop songs with a touch of soul and more than a little paranoia. Form redeemed content. The handclaps and multi-tracked vocal of "Private Eyes" helps you forget that Daryl Hall is an uncommonly jittery frontman. The three or four overlapping synth lines (played by Hall, an underrated keyboardist) on "I Can't Go For That (No Can Do)" are worthy of Dare-era Human League. Although "Did It In A Minute" wouldn't be out of place as the theme song to an early '80s sitcom, "Head Above Water" and "Looking for a Good Sign" are too frantic to have fit in anywhere. The sleeper is "Your Imagination," whose sick, woozy organ hook and sneering John Oates harmonies deserve to be sampled by Basement Jaxx. Grade: A-

H20 (1982)
Despite his enthusiasm and considerable finesse, Daryl Hall was never the most convincing soul man. He's insistent without being ingratiating, like an A student who wants every student in the class to read what a great history essay he's written. And he's a truly confused songwriter. Where, say, Bryan Ferry's narcissism was endearing (and at least on Avalon he went so far into narcissism that he emerged unscathed as the Love God he always aspired to be), Hall just sounds like a creep. "One on One" is H&O's best smoochfest, but Hall erodes his outreach by insisting it's all a game. No doubt there are women attracted to men who don't try to hide their sharp fangs. Elsewhere, H20 finds H&O pretty much at their peak; this is by far their most consistent album. The guitar-pop throwaways at the end of the record ("Delayed Reaction," "Guessing Games") wouldn't be out of place on a Marshall Crenshaw album; "Maneater" definitively proves that any song which appropriates the bassline to The Supremes' "You Can't Hurry Love" is a guaranteed classic. And John Oates comes up with the album's best melody, impressing the Italian girls in the song of the same name with his knowledge of vino rosso. Grade: A

Big Bam Boom (1984)
Title says it all. So does the cover art. H&O hire Arthur Baker to remix several cuts to give their most programmed and dated album a gauche dance sheen (opener "Dance On Your Knees" is a ringer for New Order's "Confusion"). The big hits were "Out of Touch" (also their worst video, in a career full of appalling ones) and "Method of Modern Love," whose title gives away the game: Daryl, who can't resist lecturing his conquests, explains How It's Supposed To Work even while his delicious falsetto distracts us from the fact that his hand is unbuttoning your shirt. There's not much else here except for the unexpected tact of the ballad "Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid" and John Oates' ominous "Cold Dark & Yesterday". H&O's crack touring band, responsible for the crisp arrangements on the preceding three albums, has a noticeably diminished profile. Baker's echo-heavy, Synclavier-happy production has the effect of accentuating Hall's increasing smugness (she's an "All American Girl" because she wants it all -- and guess what "all" rhymes with?). Big Bam Boom would prove a most effective sendoff; Hall would go on to an aborted, big-haired solo career (peaking with the swirling David Stewart-produced hit "Dreamtime, a better "Don't Come Around Here No More" than Tom Petty's), while Oates went on to race cars and do whatever else short ugly men with bad mustaches do (like cowrite Icehouse's 1988 Top 10 "Electric Blue; how'd that happen?). Grade: B

Open up your eager eyes: now THIS is "Mr Brightside"

I have come to the conclusion that Jacques Lu Cont's remix of The Killers' "Mr Brightside" is the single of the year. Forget the album version played on Top 40 radio or even the video, the impact of which is semi-obscured by Brandon Flowers' cute makeup and Robert Smith jones at its most "Inbetween Days" poptastic. Lu Cont goes for bombast, both stripping away the cluttered nuevo wavo cliches of the band's untoward guitar raunch and intensifying the desperation that was always lurking beneath the surface. Admittedly, a beguiling surface, and since the selling of surfaces has been part of rock and roll since the days of Bowie, it's the task of any half-decent producer to spit-shine that surface so that it doesn't just gleam, but reflect its creators' most addled vision of loveliness.

Anyway, the extra synths (which come in frosty puffs, like breath on glass), sequencers (evoking Bronski Beat's "Smalltown Boy"), programmed drums, and bottomless distance between Flowers and the instruments heighten the drama; it's melodrama, alright, but as lurid and heartbreaking as the best. Lu Cont forces us to concentrate on the lyrics, and damn good ones they are too. In the original version Flowers' patting himself on the back for being Mr Brightside is too hurried, the ironies pat; the irony's gone in Lu Cont's remix, and what's left is a rather devastating moment of phony self-assurance (think the Supremes' "You Keep Me Hanging On" remade/remodelled by Paul Van Dyk). It's all there in Flowers' vocal, and all praise to Lu Cont for directing our attention to it.

Michael Jackson

Keith Harris nails what made the Michael Jackson trial so depressing: how Jackson's recorded output portended the megalomania and juvenile insularity which led to the trial in the first place. He also does a brilliant job describing what makes "Billie Jean" such a fantastic and endlessly listenable pop masterpiece more than 20 years later:

On "Billie Jean," a sole voice struggles to pass safely through a treacherous rhythm machine: drums stamp downward, a bass line rises and falls like a piston, and beneath the wide gaps in the keyboards a bottomless echo threatens to engulf the singer. The song's a brilliant illustration of the warring emotions of terror and exhilaration that combine in the sex drive of a teenage boy, just one moment where Jackson has reveled in commingling seemingly opposite impulses. He didn't just strike a balance between naïveté and sexuality, nervousness and grace, effeminacy and aggression—he demonstrated their interdependence.

All this, and a defense of Invincible that strikes me as reasonable.

Tom Cruise goes apeshit

Tom Cruise lost his cool with Matt Lauer on The Today Show this morning. Lauer, remembering he's a journalist, grilled Cruise on the nature of the medical knowledge to which Cruise, as a Scientologist, is privy thanks to his relationship with the Dark Lord of the Sith:

M: [interrupting] But if anti-depressants worked for Brooke Shields, isn’t that OK?

T: I disagree with it.

M: But aren’t there examples where it works?

T: You don’t even know what Ritalin is! If you read the papers on how they came up with the drug, the
dosage … You should be more responsible in knowing what it is. I am responsible. I know these things.

M: You’re saying that you know how it affected people you don’t know, but I do? You’re now telling me that
what has and hasn’t worked for people I know, and I’m telling you I lived with these people and I saw an
improvement.

T: So you’re advocating?

M: No, I’m not. I’m just saying that in their individual cases, it helped them … We could go in circles on
this matter. But do you want more people to understand Scientology? Is that a goal of yours?

T: Of course. And I don’t talk about things I don’t understand.

Oooh! Lauer got TOLD!

Nailed to the Back of a Locked Filing Cabinet

It was a lot funnier in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The fact that this recent court ruling would allow homes to be seized for private use shows reality to be more frightening than fiction. I just want to know one thing, will there be a sign that reads "Beware of the Leopard?" That might just make it ok.

Rockism, revisited

Stylus has published a handful of thoughtful essays on the rockism phenomenon. Matt Cibula has written the best (and I urge you to ignore his tip of the hat to yours truly in the first paragraph). I've dealt with rockism most of my life in some form, from meatheads who think I'm yanking their schlongs when I admit to liking Amy Grant, Justin Timberlake, Kelly Clarkson; to snobs who consider OK Computer the greatest shit since Pink Floyd met us on the dark side of the moon because, like, it's an Important Artistic Statement. If there's anything I've learned from my lifelong passion for New Order, it's (a) Important Artistic Statements are boring; (b) lyrics are overrated; (c) rhythm sections, good ones, are underrated, especially by white guys with guitars. While we're at it, let's add: (d) White guys with guitars are overrated.

Thus Spaketh Saramago

Earlier this month, esteemed Portuguese Nobel prize winning novelist Jose Saramago visited the island of Cuba where he toured several schools and cultural institutions. While giving a speech at the University of Havana, Mr. Saramago had some very nice things to say about democracy:

“War, genocide, attack, looting have been the ways in which it [democracy] has been imposed throughout history”.

No love lost there. He also went on to stress the inherent evils of democracy when governments follow the bidding of economic power and not the interests of the people.

Mr. Saramago went on to eat a five course meal consisting of a variety of lunchmeats, baked goods, the occasional vegetable, and flan. Word is he didn't much take much to the flan....

Fill this out

Thanks to Thomas for this meme (and for giving me a shout-out):

1) Total number of books I've owned: It doesn't compare to the number of books I've read, but plenty: close to 2500.

2) The last book I bought: Gore Vidal's Burr (brilliant), Walter Karp's The Politics of War, and David Buckley's Thrill of It All, the first decent Roxy Music biography.

3) The last book I read: Desperate Measures, a collection of William Logan's poetry reviews

4) Five books that mean a lot to me (in no particular order)
Louise Fitzhugh, Harriet The Spy. The funniest, truest, most scathing children's book ever written. Louise Fitzhugh understood that I was to be a writer before I did.

Henry James, Portrait of a Lady. The American novel grows up, equaling the achievements of Flaubert and George Eliot. The way in which James' gallery of minor characters appear at strategically important points to reveal another facet of heroine Isabel Archer is psychology (and dramaturgy) of the highest caliber.

Pauline Kael, For Keeps. A collection of the great film critic's reviews.

Robert Christgau, Record Guides. As definitive an influence on my prose as Pauline Kael. See also: Greil Marcus, Lester Bangs, Christopher Hitchens, George Orwell, Hannah Arendt.

5) Tag three people and have them fill this out on their blogs:

(a)Alex Segura, Jr for a wealth of comic-book arcana.

(b)Andy Diaz and company at my home A Grand Illusion.

(c)Ian Mathers. Stylus colleague. Thoughtful writer and sharp tongue.

Husker Don't

According to Billboard, Husker Du vet Bob Mould has pretty much crapped on the idea of a reunion:

To me, that's just best left where it is. It was a period of my life that was great at the time. A lot of crazy things have been said and a lot of stupid things have been done. It's probably just best left where it is.

I can't say that I blame him. The article lists "storied" bands like Gang of Four, Slint and the Pixies as examples of a trend, but aside from Mission of Burma, which of these bands have made reasonably relevant new material? It's probably a good idea to let things be, and remember the good times.

And, as a final jab to Grant Hart:

"I can't imagine giving up what I have right now, which is being able to go out on tour with guys I like and am looking forward to playing with. I can't imagine giving up my DJ gig or the life I've spent years working toward for that kind of thing, which would clearly be a lucrative situation.

If you're still not Mould-ed out, check out the rocker/DJ's blog.

Brian Eno

Me on Brian Eno's Another Day on Earth, his first with vocals since 1977's Before & After Science. "Underwhelming" is too kind: the album is a snooze. Download the beautiful "How Many Worlds" and you'll be a satisfied man.

In case you missed it

Dinosaur Jr. are back together and on tour.

They even made their first-ever live TV appearance on The Late Late Show.

Be excited.

Stanley Fish

I should have posted this earlier. FIU and The Miami Herald confirm that writer/professor/pugilist/contrarian Stanley Fish will teach a class at the School of Law. His name doesn't resound outside academia and the op-ed pages, but it's a hiring bound to give the law school (and FIU) national publicity.

Incidentally, he wrote a essay for the 13 May issue of Chronicle of Higher Education positing that remarks made by former University of Colorado professor Ward "Little Eichmann" Churchill and Harvard University President Lawrence Summers were not framed in the proper context: "the issues they raise are by and large issues of administrative judgment and not issues of academic freedom or free speech."

Batman Begins

Michael Atkinson trashes Batman Begins in The Village Voice; according to him, the film's "bid for solemnity" can't disguise the distressing fact that one more superhero movie: "the plotting tortuous, the characters relegated to one-scene-one-emotion simplicity, the digitized action a never ending club mix of chases and mano a manos." Now I can't wait to see it.

I'm going to start posting firsthand comments on music, film, books, etc. Blogging seems to clash with every principle I hold dear, namely meditation. Whether it's my private diary or in published reviews I revile uncensored thought (cover every piano leg in the room if I'm visiting your place, please); but in the spirit of the half-dozen music bloggers whose work I enjoy so much, I'll try to accomodate to the modern age.

It's getting worse for Tony Blair. The Sunday Times reports that his ministers were under pressure to find ways to make the illegal regime change in Iraq legal. Money quote from the position paper:

The document said the only way the allies could justify military action was to place Saddam Hussein in a position where he ignored or rejected a United Nations ultimatum ordering him to co-operate with the weapons inspectors. But it warned this would be difficult.

“It is just possible that an ultimatum could be cast in terms which Saddam would reject,” the document says. But if he accepted it and did not attack the allies, they would be “most unlikely” to obtain the legal justification they needed

Why isn't the American mainstream media covering this? And then bloggers insist there's a liberal media.

No, I wouldn't drink a beer with them either

At at time when we actually worry about how "smart" our presidential candidates are, H.L. Mencken sticks his head through cigar smoke and delivered these observations on the Warren G. Harding-James Cox presidential race of 1920. Not for him the illusions that Bill O'Reilly's "folks" know best. Living in a democracy means accepting what's most repugnant about ourselves, or worse:

We do not estimate the integrity and ability of an acquaintance by his flabby willingness to accept our ideas; we estimate him by the honesty and effectiveness with which he maintains his own...But when a candidate for public office faces the voters he does not face men of sense; he faces a mob of men whose chief distinguishing mark is the fact that they are quite incapable of weighing ideas, or even of comprehending any save the most elemental -- men whose whole thinking is done in terms of emotion, and whose dominant emotion is dread of what they cannot understand.

And here's the clincher:

So confronted, the candidate must either bark with the pack, or count himself lost...But when the field is nationwide, and the fight must be waged chiefly at second and third hand, and the force of personality cannot so readily make itself felt, then all the odds are on the man who is, intrinsically, the most devious and mediocre -- the man who can most adeptly disperse the notion that his mind is a virtual vacuum.

Hmm. Calvin Coolidge, Herbert Hoover, Harry Truman, Dwight Eisenhower, Richard Nixon, Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan, and the Honorable George W. Bush form a truly august lineage.

Let us all join hands....

And praise Intel-ligent Apples!

Am I a deviant for getting a kick out of dressing Steve Jobs as Major Tom?

Ever Pirate a Slothrop?

Artist Zak Smith has taken upon himself to create one piece of art – for the most part pen on paper illustrations - for every page of Thomas Pynchon’s post-modern masterpiece, Gravity’s Rainbow. For The Modern Word, Creon Upton writes the following about the book:

Illustrating Gravity’s Rainbow is like putting Ezra Pound’s Cantos to music, or writing the novel of a grandmaster showdown—from the point of view of the chess pieces.

Now that chess fiction would be quite something, wouldn’t it? I have always wondered if the Knight feels randy when galloping over a Bishop to snag a Pawn…

One cannot help to feel a wee bit charmed when reading Smith’s reason for illustrating the novel:

So I illustrated Gravity's Rainbow-- nobody asked me to, but I did it anyway.

I wonder if Gus Van Sant was offered to direct his Psycho remake or just did it anyhow….

White Stripes love

If anyone can give me a compelling reason to purchase The White Stripes' Get Behind Me Satan, I'll buy her a drink of her choice. I am unconvinced. Two conflicting reviews here and here.

Baby's On Fire?

A snarky take on the reissue of Brian Eno's ambient albums by Dave Queen of Seattle weekly. The venerable Eno releases his first vocal album since 1997's near-great Before & After Science next week. Stay tuned.

The Importance of Secularism

Andrew Sullivan posted this yesterday. Secularlism, when swirled around the mouth of a Bill O'Reilly and Pat Buchanan like sour Listerine, has turned into such a bad word that it bears reminding what it really denotes:

Secularism allows Christians, and any other religious faith, to affirm religious values, live exactly as they see fit, and avoid such moral outrages as abortion and gay civil unions in their own lives, if they so wish. All secularism does is say that as a political matter, there will be as much government neutrality as possible because the government should represent all citizens; that the Church and the state shall coexist, but independently of each other. Secularism is not only compatible with aggressive and proud Christian faith; in practice, secularism has fostered that faith. The polar opposite of Christianism, in contrast, would be a government that actively suppresses religious faith, discriminates against Christianity and forbids Christians from practising their way of life.

Sullivan defines "Christianism" as "politicized Christianity" (or, to put it another way, the Jesus wing's version of Islamism). Christianism was anathema to classic conservatives like Barry Goldwater, who was idolized by Reagan and forgotten today.

Masked and anonymous my foot!

The photo of the year, plainly. It's Jessica Lange and Robert Zimmermann at this year's Sundance Film Festival: bob.bmp

The Spy Who Came In From The Cold?

Bob Woodward finally published his version of what his relationship with Mark "Deep Throat" Felt was like. From Woodward's account Felt sounds like a character in a John Le Carré or John Banville novel (His suit was dark, his shirt white and his necktie subdued. He was probably 25 to 30 years older than I and was carrying what looked like a file case or briefcase. He was very distinguished-looking and had a studied air of confidence..."). Among the things I didn't know: (a) Woodward's early stint as a rookie reporter at The Washington Post was a disaster; (b) Woodward did volunteer work for Illinois congressman John Erlenborn, Republican; (c) Not only is All The President's Men is an even better thriller than we'd all thought, but there's another movie waiting to be writen about internecine warfare in J. Edgar's Hoover's FBI.