Monday, December 23rd, 2002
Still bummed about the Strummer news. 50 is still young, and he was still so creatively vibrant. I saw him with the Mescalaros three years ago, and it was an intense rock-n-roll experience. Such a shame. Rest in peace, Joe.
The lineup for the Los Angeles All Tomorrow’s Parties is up. Matt Groening is doing a pretty damn good job – here’s the list of confirmeds so far :
And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of The Dead…….
Bangs
Blonde Redhead
Boredoms
Brave Combo
Breeders
Neko Case
Coldcut
Danielson Famile
The Fall
Daniel Johnston
Jah Wobble
The Magic Band
The Melvins w/ Cameron Jamie
Melt Banana
Ooioo
Moris Teper
Wire – (NEW ADDITION)
Yo La Tengo
Good luck to Malkmus topping this. How much is a flight to LA in June?
np – Buffalo Tom / Besides
Monday, December 23rd, 2002
Joe Strummer passes away at 50.
WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?!
God, this sucks so hard.
Sunday, December 22nd, 2002
So the Pitchfork Best of 2002 is up, and I may as well cash in my hipness chips cause my collection doesn’t represent too well… 6 out of 50. 7, if you include Sleater-Kinney’s One Beat, which I’ll be getting on Boxing Day. Granted, Pitchfork does make efforts to include offerings from genres I don’t listen top (hip-hop, hardcore, IDM), but still. 6 our of 50? I usually do a little better than that. I guess I can take solace that five of them are in the top 10. I am going to have to review their picks as well as go through the reviews in the new BTO to see if there’s anything I should be adding to my list for Boxing Week.
Oh yeah, Soundscapes’ sale is 15% off everything.
Last week I noticed a movie poster for Femme Fatale that declared director Brian De Palma as ‘Master Of The Erotic Thriller’. Excuse me? When did this happen? The Untouchables wasn’t terribly sexy. Scarface neither. Carrie, maybe, if that’s your particular kink. Carlito’s Way? Mission: Imposisble? Geez, talk about making up your own accolades. Here is the man’s complete ouvre – judge for yourself. And I’m sorry, unless you’ve directed at least a half-dozen Shannon Tweed films, you’re not even in the running for ‘Master Of The Erotic Thriller’.
np – Paul Westerberg / Stereo
Sunday, December 22nd, 2002
Caught a matinee of One Hour Photo this afternoon. It wasn’t on my ‘must-see’ list by any means, but I wasn’t avoiding it – I needed something to do this PM, and it fit the schedule.
I was not overly impressed. The direction was very art-house, stylized and stark, the score overbearing. I found Robin Willims’ performance vacant rather than sinister, his testament to the banality of evil was far more effective in Insomnia. Maybe playing against type in the same way twice in a year wasn’t such a good idea. Anyway, beyond that, what suspense was there just didn’t deliver. I don’t demand psychosis, but the climax of the film was both perplexing and uninteresting. Mark Romanek tries a last minute curveball to further explain Williams’ motivations, but it comes off as cliched and desperate. No recommendations for this film are coming from me.
np – Superdrag / Last Call For Vitriol
Sunday, December 22nd, 2002
Had a Waterloo class reunion of sorts last night – the excuse was that Yolanda (soon to be Dr Yolanda) was back from Cambridge for the holidays and was in town, so all Tonka alumni in the GTA who were able got together at the James Joyce for beer and reminiscing. It’s funny, it didn’t matter that I hadn’t seen some of them for almost three years – within a few minutes it was just like a Wednesday night at the Bomber.
It was interesting getting caught up on news from the class, about 1/4 of us are now engaged or married. Shouldn’t be surprising, but still… Mona was there and freshly engaged. Quite an impressive rock on her finger, too.
Strangest moment of the evening took place just outside the pub – through the window, we could see this woman (we’ll call her crazy, for argument’s sake) who was flailing around on the street, grabbing passers-by and generally providing grade-A COPS material. At some point, she’d also taken off her pants and there didn’t seem to be any elastic waistband on her long-johns, cause every time she stood up, they came down, and let’s just say those long-johns were the last line of defence. And we got an eyeful. Several times. Uggggh. The police eventually showed up and took her away, but not before I, at least, was traumatized.
Won a copy of The Scud Mountain Boys’ Massachusetts on eBay last night for the princely sum of $2.25. Now that’s good eatin’.
np – Sigur Ros / ( )
No Comments
facebook
![[Valid RSS]](http://www.chromewaves.net/images/interface/valid-rss.png "Validate my RSS feed"){kind=small}