My eventful absence

I’ve been in California since last week. (Got back yesterday, but had school and such to suck up an entire day.)

More to come...

Staring At The Sun [edited]

After GoldenVoice failed to release the official Coachella 2006 line-up yesterday, rumors abounded that the Smashing Pumpkins pulled out at the last minute due to the usual Billy Corgan meltdown. [Actually, I shouldn't say last minute as the Cocteau Twins really bailed at the last possible moment last year - I still have the merchandise, and tears, to prove it.]

Either way, the Coachella message boards (featuring a gorgeous new graphic layout) revealed the confirmed list this morning:

Saturday, April 29th
Depeche Mode, Franz Ferdinand, Sigur Ros, Common, Damian Marley, Atmosphere, Carl Cox, My Morning Jacket, Ladytron , Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Tosca, Cat Power, Animal Collective, HARD-fi, Derrick Carter, Devendra Banhart, She Wants Revenge, The Walkmen, The Juan Maclean, Audio Bullys, Imogen Heap, Lady Sovereign, Deerhoof, The Duke Spirit, Editors, stellastarr*, Lyrics Born, Matt Costa, The New Amsterdams, The Zutons, Platinum Piped Pipers, White Rose Movement, Chris Liberator, Colette, Joey Beltram, Hybrid, Wolfmother, The Like, Living Things, Nine Black Alps, The Section Quartet, Infadels, Youth Group, Shy FX & T Power, Infusion.

Sunday, April 30th
Tool, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Bloc Party, Paul Oakenfold, Scissor Sisters, Matisyahu, James Blunt, TV on the Radio, Sleater-Kinney , Mogwai, Coheed and Cambria, Gnarls Barkley, Coldcut, Phoenix, Digable Planets, Amadou & Mariam, Little Louie Vega, Mylo (DJ Set), Seu Jorge, Wolf Parade, The Go! Team, Kaskade, Metric, Art Brut, Dungen, The Dears, Jamie Lidell, The Magic Numbers, Los Amigos Invisibles, Jazzanova, Michael Mayer, Mates of State, Gilles Peterson, Gabriel & Dresden, The Subways, Minus the Bear, Be Your Own Pet, Giant Drag, Kristina Sky, The Octopus Project.

I am pretty disappointed with the list. Some solid groups, but it is missing that essential hook - the reformed band, or reclusive artist, that Coachella somehow manages to conjure up every year. There are bound to be some surprising additions in the upcoming months, but I don't think it will be enough to drag me out of the midwest. Especially since Chicago is sure to be on the itinerary for most bands travelling there way to Indio. Still, I am a bit bummed - Coachella is ridiculously awesome. I just wish there were more alluring bands (ie. Massive Attack, Primal Scream, Underworld) so I could justify the time and cost.

I am, however, particularly excited/surpised by the appearance of TV on the Radio. NME reported that the band collaborated with Massive Attack for the latter's fifth album Weather Underground. The leadoff single Live With Me leaked yesterday and it is quite good - similar to 100th Window minus the irritating Sinead O'Connor vocals/lyrics.

Here's to hoping that Elizabeth Fraser can make up for her absence last year by appearing next to 3D, Tricky and Tunde Adebimpe on April 30.

Netflix Two Cents: Primer

Primer (2004)

Verdict: An engrossing morality play garbed in the decaying half-lifes of a disintegrating narrative. Made on an incomprehensible budget of $7,000.

I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor

With my unhealthy addiction to the British zine industry, I usually try to keep up to date with the newest musical trends on the other side of the Atlantic. I am the chump that buys the import CD for 30 dollars, only to regret the decision six months later when the same CD comes out in the States with a whole slew of bonus tracks. So, imagine my surprise when the Arctic Monkeys album dropped out of nowhere to sell more than 100,000 copies on its release day, with predictions of it being the fastest selling British debut of all time.

Say what?

The NME hype machine is now at full force giving the Arctic Monkeys' (possibly the worst band name of all time) debut CD (sporting the ugliest cover of all time) Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not (easily the most detestable title of all time) a whopping 10/10. The last 10 from NME that I can remember was the equally hyped Is This It?. Even more ridiculous, they placed WPSIA TWIN (worst acronym in recent memory) at #5 in the greatest British Albums ever poll. WTF? Ahead of Blur, Pulp, The Clash, and the Beatles? Surely this is an asshole move intended to move print, but still, how to explain the sales?

The internet backlash is expectedly strong (date rape indie??), but despite latching onto the usual suspects of the internet(s) and street teams, people are still at a loss to explain the Arctic Monkeys phenomenon. Unfortunately, I don't have enough knowledge of the musical, let alone social and economic landscape of Britain to provide any answers either.

And after a week of listening to the album, I am still ambivalent. Sure it has some catchy tunes, but nothing to write home about. I wouldn't have been phased if this had happened to Franz Ferdinand, Bloc Party, or the Kaiser Chiefs (to name a few of their hyped peers - especially off the strength of their respective pre-release singles), but the Arctic Monkeys? Come on!

Perhaps I shouldn't be that surprised. As one internet scribe elegantly penned:

brits in liking moronic derivative rock shockah

Givin' Props to the Russians

A quick shout out to my boy Patrick Thronson and his new job as Communications Director for Salt Lake City Mayor Rocky Anderson.

The ever-reliable Desert News reports that our young Mr. Thronson is "confident" that he will be in this position until the end of the mayor's term in 2007, despite the job's notoriously high turnover rate.

I can vouch for Patrick's "go-getter" attitude; one dreary Friday night, my fellow Yearbook Co-Editor and I stayed in the bowels of Cathy Anderegg's [Intergalactic?] computer lab finishing the tedious task of indexing while testing the constant rate of gravity by throwing mustard bottles out the window. I was later NARCed out for the mischief, while Patrick - the prodigal son - was able to charm his way out of trouble because that boy radiates immaculate responsibility.

Where was I going with that story? Oh yeah. Do as the Romans do.

nausea [erase/rewind]

2005 was a shattering year.

After a painfully honest internal audit, I decided it was unfair to indiscriminately condemn the entire year as it contained some of my most treasured memories: Sundance. KÁ. Coachella. Reykjavik. Wisconsin. Topolobampo. New Year's Eve.

Even so, September will forever be marked as one of the most damaging months of my short life. Unexpected severance. Humiliatingly attacked. Solitary migration. Disabused fantasies. Events shrouded in emotional obscurity, which, on there own would have been intense sites of anxiety, but compounded together without anytime to heal or regroup had cataclysmic effects on my psyche. Not since I became emotionally unhinged as pneumonia wrecked my body have I felt so stripped of my sense of agency in the world. Something in my liberty.

Most of last term - the University of Chicago's cruel academic interval - I was in a constant state of delirious exhaustion. Every week another essay for the same history seminar. From Friday to Tuesday, I labored. On Wednesday, I played catch-up in my other courses. On Thursday, I collapsed. Yet, not once did I receive a single word of feedback on my work. My professor held office hours so infrequently I was convinced he was some sort of indeterminate apparition that manifested in a physical avatar for a total of three hours a week. It was a savage exercise in academic existentialism - a terrible penance I would have eagerly tolerated if I had felt strongly in my own work, or at least emotionally invested. On the contrary; week in/week out I shat out pages as if in some horrifying sensory/intellectual deprivation chamber. A deranged Purgatory. I imagine one of the primary reasons people engage in the academic lifestyle is to attend to their curiosity, to feel passionately connected to their own words. I felt sharply alienated from my labour.

And it was heartbreaking.

For the second time in my life, I lost the faith. Only, this time in the historical project; in the importance, let alone possibility, of veracious narrative representation.

This is not to say that I will not have moments of relapse, or to deny the possibility that in the future I will be a born-again academic. As it stands, however, I cannot possibly tolerate a profession that demands everything, but offers so little in return.

Taken together, the events of last year can be distilled into one important, if trite, lesson:

Loving something is not nearly a good enough reason to stay with it.

Cruel mistress

This semester is killing me in a slow, meaningful way.

I’ve complained about it before… but this week is taking it to a new level.

See… my family and close family friends (with the help of my girlfriend) convinced me to take a weekend trip (Thursday to Sunday) to Disneyland. Even though I hate Disneyland, and even though I’ve been too busy to sleep or eat so far this semester.

On top of that… I’m to read Aristotle’s Phaedrus and Poetics this week. 4,000 lines of The Romance of the Rose. Some essay on Medieval Literacy. Two novel excerpts by peers. And then also submit up to 35 pages from my own novel. All this week…

Then I have the honor (and I mean that literally and without sarcasm) of meeting with and conversing about the beginning of my novel with a visiting writer.

And then I have my regular voluntary work stuff with my religion.

And also I have my girlfriend who I like to see, touch and talk to.

Somehow this reminds me of how we used to brag about how little sleep we’d get in High School because of how busy we were. Except now… I’m not lying.

FYI

I've decided today that I'm going to buy or invent a death ray.

Don't worry, I won't use it for evil. I will simply use it to burn people's shoes and force them to dance.

It shall be called the Dance Ray.

Wanna Go For A Ride?

Speaking of music festivals, NME is reporting that the Smashing Pumpkins reunion tour is going to kick off at Coachella.

Mark, is that enough to entice you down to California? Or are you still burned out on the whole 'Intoxicated with the madness' scene?

And because I am a huge dork, here is a mock-up of the possible/rumored acts to be rocking Indio this April:


Note: I didn't actually make it, I just cribbed it off the Coachella Message Boards. But, thanks for the kind words.

You And Whose Army?

The Chicago Sun-Times reports:

"Although Chicago officials said late last year they are eager to present more popular music in the parks this summer -- and to reap the financial benefits these concerts bring for park improvements -- they have rejected a bid by chart-topping British art-rockers Radiohead to perform at Millennium Park in June...

Radiohead and many of its fans still consider the concert the band played at Hutchinson Field in summer 2001 as one of its most memorable. Although that show was a well-organized, artistic and financial success, city officials were reluctant for the next few years to allow cutting-edge rock acts to return to Grant Park because of noise complaints from a handful of nearby residents."

I am suddenly getting terrible flashbacks to my last aborted attempt to see Radiohead.

At least the Nazi sparrows were not involved this time.

Super Blow Sunday

I’ll probably watch it.

Probably have people over to watch it, even.

Thing is… I really hate football.

Example: Over the weekend I did some solid hours of reading. Including stuff I’ve read before (that wonderful mimetic stuff in Book X of Plato’s Republic) and stuff that’s barely in English (Middle English… asif).

I did the reading in my TV room, where I have a comfortable green couch and a bright Target lamp. It’s just good for reading. Only thing is, I have an irrational desire to have the TV on if I’m in the TV room. (I’m sure it relates to my Marxist tendencies regarding use value, but still…) But I’ve finally discovered the secret. See if I turn on the TV, put it on a boring channel and mute it. I can get a lot of reading done.

FYI: Football is more boring than the weather channel.

This Is Not a Metaphor for Football

Okay. This is easily going to take the cake on the stupidest post yet, if not the least essential. But it had to be said:

Damn the Patriots! Damn everyone that won't damn the Patriots! Damn every one that won't put lights in his window and sit up all night damning the Patriots!

Life is good.

The Commander Thinks Aloud

Abandoned, forgotten - 2006 was supposed to be different, but here I am once again playing the martyr. As I stumbled my way home broke and jacket-less from the North Side in a casually dangerous mixture of hitchhiking and walking, I had one song to guide me: the utterly surprising lead-off track from The Long Winter's latest EP, Ultimatum.

Understated and unadorned, yet devastatingly sorrowful and wistful, The Commander Thinks Aloud explores a reservoir of unknown depth of feeling from the already clever John Roderick (although I do dearly miss Sean Nelson on the backup vocals).

When the end comes, I can think of no better denouement than:

The crew compartment's breaking up
The crew compartment's breaking up
The crew compartment's breaking up
The crew compartment's breaking up
The crew compartment's breaking up
The crew compartment's breaking up
The crew compartment's breaking up

Somebody Told Me

The Killers - Smile Like You Mean It (Phones The Killers Can Suck My Balls Mix)

Has there ever been a truer named remix? I think not. What does that song (or any Killers song, for that matter) even mean?

God, Brandon Flowers is going to give me an aneurysm.

Netflix Two Cents: Grizzly Man

Grizzly Man (2005)

Verdict: A perfect documentary on the overwhelming indifference of nature and the existential dialectic of Herzog and Treadwell.

Netflix Two Cents: Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance

Sympathy for
Mr. Vengeance (2002)

Verdict: Disturbing, alienating - yet the jackknife revenge narrative is oddly compelling. Not for the faint. Or anyone really.

This Pair

Graduate School is already sucking me dry.

I’m taking three courses this semester and after the first week (during which I have been sick) I feel like dropping out, dying or dropping out and then dying.

It isn’t so bad. I have a Middle English Literature class that seems interesting (even if I worry that it will finally expose me as a fraud and display my underlying stupidity the world: my lifelong fear). Another about Pedagogy and Writing that is somehow full of Master of Education-type students. And a novel workshop which will demand 100 pages from the something dreaming game by April.

I shudder to think of how much time I’ll spend reading Middle English, Theories on Educational Structures and who knows what else. And I fear to think of those nights when I’ll be up half the night because I decided I’d rather hang out with Rachel than do my homework like I should.

Something Better Beginning

Steve Jobs, current owner of Palo Alto Borders-bought Monk Season 1 DVD and man of many hundred dollar bills, just unveiled both a Mac desktop and laptop running off Intel hardware at Macworld San Francisco.

Don't believe me? Hide your credit card and check out the Apple store.

Having purchased a new Powerbook less than a year ago, I must admit I got a bit jealous eyeballing the specs of the new MacBook Pro, but 15.4'' is a bit bigger than I, or my back, needs right now. Still those machines are going to rock, and if you are the market I can't recommend a system that runs OSX enough.

And that magnetic power cord is just a brilliantly simple idea.

Whether or not this switch will help them reclaim market share away from Microsoft has yet to be seen. But if the constant bustle of the Apple Store at the Gateway is any indication, this could be the turning of the tide.

Halo effect anyone?

Product Review, In Brief I

Product: Steven Segal's Lightning Boly Energy Drink (Cherry Flavor)

Judgement: Although originally purchased as a 'chaser,' it was found to be so foul only liberal amounts of Vodka could remove the taste.

Sudoku Attack!!1!

For the security and welfare of all of those who had to suffer through my brief, but all too powerful, fixation with Sudoku: you can once again call me, the infatuation is over.

My sad spiral of addiction began Christmas night when [the Vegan] Goldsmith introduced me to the (canonical?) game. Judging by the ten people that were playing it on my plane from Atlanta to Brooklyn, and from the fact that Barnes and Noble moved their supply of Sudoku books from the Games isle to the Bargain Bin, I discovered "the most fashionable logic game since the Rubick's Cube" at least five months late. From the scorn of the cashier, I gather it was not even démodé enough to be considered hip again.

Bummer, always too late. I will attribute my untrendy time delay to the great infantilization process known as graduate school.

While in 2005, Bertram Felgenhauer discovered there to be 6,670,903,752,021,072,936, 960 (27,704,267,971 x 9! × 722 × 27 for those of you counting) possible Sudokus, I was soon bored after four puzzles (one of which I horribly butchered).

So, Sudoku, the most fascinating and tedious late trend of 2005 -

I salute you.

Netflix Two Cents: The Island

The Island (2005)

Verdict: Sadly, this is probably the closest I will come to having five consecutive climaxes with Scarlett. Watch your proximity!

A bowtie on a Shih Tzu

Sufjan Stevens. It’s a name that was on (and on top of) enough 2005 top 10 music lists to strike up my curiosity. Also Ben gave it a shout out over the holiday, so you know...

... I decided to start with Illinois. His most recent album and the album that received the highest review score from Pitchfork (a whopping 9.2 out of 10 from one of their ultracritical writers).

My first thought was that is was like a rebirth of the Age of Aquarius, post Eminem. But now I’d just describe the album as being more pretentious than a bowtie on a Shih Tzu.

In other words, I didn’t really like it.

Netflix Two Cents: Strange Days

Strange Days (1995)

Verdict: The only thing about the future this movie accurately predicts is the hell that is Juliette Lewis's singing.

Thinking outside the botox

I, for one, don’t like top lists. The idea of recording what my favorite movies, CDs, games or television shows were for a year is way too much responsibility. Especially since what I like right now could change at any minute.

And, of course, I haven’t even experienced everything that might be great. (King Kong, for instance, is still in my maybe I’ll see it pile.)

So here, instead, are a few things that mattered to me during the past year.

This list may be obsolete by the time you read it.

The Most Interesting Movie of the Year: Good Night, and Good Luck. I’ve already talked about it enough, so I won’t waste any more of your time. But this is the type of movie I’d want to write, if I wanted to write movies.

The Most Entertaining Movie of the Year: Sin City. I don’t think I can call it my favorite, but on the whole the movie has a kitschy brilliance that you have to like. It’s ultraviolent, misogynistic and overly stylized –– and I loved every minute of it.

The Album That Made Me the Happiest: I don’t think there was any one album that did it for me this year. I quite enjoyed the Jon Brion version of Fiona Apple’s Extraordinary Machine. The Shout Out Loud’s Howl Howl Gaff Gaff made me intensely happy for a solid week, but I haven’t gone back to it much since. I really did like Clap You Hands and Say Yeah! self-title ultra indie favorite. And Late Registration from Kanye West made me a nearly permanent fan that was almost willing to go to a U2 concert just to see Kanye open (I hate U2).

The Album I Should Have Listened to More, But Haven’t So Far: Blinking Lights and Other Revelations by The Eels. I’m actually a little surprised that it hasn’t been on more top album lists. It’s really brilliant and more so than any Eels album up to Blinking Lights, and that saying a lot. The candor and irony on the album is the type of music I’d want to write, if I wanted to write music.

Most Free Time Stolen: The Nintendo DS. I’ve only had my DS for a couple of weeks now, but I’ve already drained the battery more times than I have the battery for my PSP (which I’ve had since March). That more impressive too, since the PSP battery last about four hours on average and the DS battery last 8-10. So far, I’m mostly just playing Animal Crossing (that is why I bought it). But I’m look forward to all the quirky, exclusive Japanese developed games in my future too.

Least Free Time Stolen: The Sony PSP. I drained the battery exactly three times. Twice for Lumines (the only game worth owning) and twice for the homebrew/video encoding PSP abilities (which are more of a nerd hobby thing than a useful feature). I spent $250 on this little machine… but I’d be willing to sell it for $200. In other news… I’m done with Halo 2 and my Gamecube may only be played one more time.

The Shows That Made Me Happy I Didn’t Sell My Television: The Office, My Name Is Earl, Two and a Half Men, How I Met Your Mother and Arrested Development. You probably noticed, they’re all comedies. Two are more standard sitcom fare and three are not. But – all together – they all feel like a worthy investment of two and a half hours each week.

The Show That Makes Me Happy to Own a DVR: The Office. I’ve watched most of the episodes three or four times. But again… I’ve already talked about this show enough.

Favorite Symbolic Moment of the Year: This one, and every related one since.