I'm convinced Halloween was created for the sole purpose of getting boned. No other holiday compares. When mischief and moonlight abound, someone is going to get laid. Throw in a chintzy costume, garish makeup and orange beer, and you're done for.
Where would democracy be without the third party? Exactly where it is today, but don't tell that to Murs. With "Murs for President," the L.A. rapper throws his hat into the political ring with a free-styling beat-fest that's both wordy and repetitive - he would make a great stump speech. His everyman message: "You might think that you know me / You know where I'm coming from." Actually no, Murs, we don't know you, so let's begin the vetting process. His stance on immigration, from "Lookin' Fly": "My Brazilian / She worth a few million / Beauty and brains / Might let her have my children." Surprisingly tolerant! Foreign policy experience, from "Soo Comfortable": "Moved away from Maui to European valleys." Hell, he's probably pals with Sarkozy. But can he pull the female vote? From guitar-riff laden "Road Is My Religion": "Every night different women want to please me." I think we have ourselves a contender.
Dow, Pacman - it sucks to be a Jones these days. So to ward off any negative surname karma, Norah has officially changed her name to Rachael Yamagata, piano-crooner extraordinaire. On "Elephants…Teeth Sinking Into Heart," Yamagata - if that's really her name - makes understated, acoustic music for coffee houses. For all of their nuance and organic instrumentation, "What If I Leave" - answer: I probably wouldn't notice because I fell asleep half an hour ago - and "Over and Over" match herbal tea for sheer excitement. It comes as a kick in the stomach when, for the love of PJ Harvey, disc two erupts with three vicious, melodic rockers. Maybe the Norah comparisons are off, but that's what she gets for making me suffer through the "Elephant" tranquilizer.
Kevin Barnes lost his marbles a long time ago. Now his pants must go. Of Montreal's "Skeletal Lamping" uncovers the brainchild's most outrageous fantasies in a series of wildly uninhibited hallucinations - each deceptively catchy, each bat-shit freaky. The track titles -"An Eluardian Instance," "Nonpareil Of Favor" - baffle as much as the actual music, which shuns conventional song structures for whimsical snippets blended indiscriminately into a faux-disco smoothie. Prince says it goes down easy. And it does - the slinky R&B, the electro-pop excursions, the noise jams. It's an orgy of a record that takes us to the bottom of Barnes's rabbit hole where he buried his two most cherished readings - Webster's Dictionary and the Kama Sutra.
If the Cubs ever won a World Series, the universe would collapse on itself. Likewise if Oasis ever made another classic album -some things just aren't meant to happen. But Noel Gallagher has a go at greatness anyway, and on "Dig Out Your Soul," he comes very close before little brother Liam and friends set him back another hundred years. The first four songs, penned by the older, more talented sibling, make up a bristling suite channeling the sounds of London, circa 1969. "Bag It Up" and "The Shock of the Lightning" strut to quintessential Oasis - swaggering guitar rock, pissed off and brash. And too good to be true. Liam and the rotating cast of sidemen promptly pull a Steve Bartman: distracting the professional from accomplishing something special.
There's a place in the market for white noise, and nobody knows this better than Mercury Rev. With "Snowflake Midnight," the veteran space-rockers piece together an orthopedic pillow of an album that's not only as serenely unexciting as its name suggests but could likely accompany "trickling stream" and "rainforest animals" as the third setting on a Sleep Mate sound machine. Each of the few engaging moments scattered throughout - the soft-loud dynamic in "People Are So Unpredictable (There's No Bliss Like Home)," the Little-Drummer-Boy-learns-techno choral passage of "Dream of a Young Girl as a Flower" - is promptly smothered to death by an extended ambient interlude. This is the sonic equivalent of turkey: it's pretty bland by itself, and after consumption, all you want to do is take a nap.
The boys in Rise Against could probably take out David Blaine in a breath-holding contest. How do I know? Because "Appeal To Reason" is a 47-minute, make-your-cheeks-turn red scream-a-thon, somehow peppered with enough actual words to resemble something of a concept album bemoaning the collapse of Western civilization. Exhale. "Kotov Syndrome" pegs the formula - hey! hey! backing vocals, mosh-inducing chord progressions and anger. Lots of anger. Not a great deal of range here, unless the scale runs from "'roid rage" to "where's the baseball bat?" "Collapse (Post-Amerika)" tactfully depicts a doomsday scenario. Spoiler alert - we spell America with a K. It all tries to sound grave and important, but through it all, your mind will wonder: Can these guys belch the alphabet?
Intellectualism isn't completely dead in America, but it's plugged to a ventilator. If The Streets are any indication, the academic inquisition hasn't yet crossed the pond. "Everything Is Borrowed," everything except the ideas, sounds like a particularly intelligent Black Eyed Peas spin-off, genre-hopping from English R&B to pop-laden beat poetry. Be this as it may, "Heaven for the Weather" jumps and jives on a piano-tambourine combo dolled up for mass consumption. No elitist claims here: this is freaking catchy, mate. "The Way of the Dodo," though, is problematic Al Gore hip-hop - smart, smug, warning human extinction. And it's kind of hard to dance to music about the end of the world.
Last week I wrote about the fashion rules that you can (and probably should) break, especially in Florida. This week, I'm writing about the rules that you can bend. I emphasize the word bend because if you break them, you could end up looking like a hot fashion mess, but if you bend them the right way, you could break new fashion ground.
"Beauty" is a word that often refers to something that gives pleasure to the senses, mind and spirit. But not according to local artist Erik Jones.
"How to Lose Friends and Alienate People" is a strikingly clever movie title; not only because of its length but also because it manages to be somewhat ironic. The funny and friendly movie certainly doesn't alienate the audience but draws them into a big, warm bear hug of romantic humor.
Brett Dennen said his desert island food of choice is sushi. After all, raw fish is already on the menu. This clever California folkie, who releases his third album "Hope for the Hopeless" on Oct. 21, is a man of sound judgment. Supports Barack Obama? Check. Keeps his childhood friends? Check. Huge Ween fan? Obviously.
As he hung out on his tour bus with rapper Talib Kweli, David Banner talked to the Avenue about his Friday show at The Venue, hip-hop, politics and life in general. Since the success of his song "Play," Banner said he has been "working hard on the music, enjoying life - trying to get through."
Much to Bernie Machen's dismay, Gainesville is a town that loves to party. Most people who grew up here or go to UF get into the party atmosphere early and try to figure out ways to get around that pesky drinking age.
I never realized how generic my taste in fashion is until I spent more time on campus. It seems like every other day that I spot some dope in Turlington wearing a shirt I have somewhere in my closet, or worse, one I'm currently wearing.
With a microphone in his hand, Validus vocalist Justin Kalvin will sing Friday for Save Second Base - a breast cancer benefit concert at Gainesville's Backstage Lounge, 1315 S. Main St.
In a national phone conference, comedian Sarah Silverman schleped over to a phone to discuss the season two premiere of "The Sarah Silverman Program" on Comedy Central and her voting campaign called "The Great Schlep," which favors Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama. For more information, check out sarahsilverman.comedycentral.com and thegreatschlep.com.
Whether it's another commercial-free '70s rock block on the radio or '80s night at XS, people love to celebrate decades past, and I can dig that.
I'll bet your mother told you a lot of things when she was teaching you how to dress: Don't wear white after Labor Day, match your shoes to your purse, wear everything in moderation. But did it ever occur to you that maybe your mom was wrong? Well, not wrong so much as dated. Mom grew up in another time period all together. And grandma? Doubly true. So I think it's time to go back, reanalyze those cardinal fashion sins and decide which ones need to be cast aside.
"Oh, that stupid bitch is mine." Now before you make any snap judgments, know that this line comes from a song called "Errant Dog." Get it? It's funny - or at least Ben Folds thinks so. On "Way To Normal," Nashville's longest-running jokester walks the fine line between kitschy fun and tasteless humor with twelve politically incorrect songs designed to challenge the gag reflex. "The Frown Song" and "Dr. Yang" play like dumbed-down, cheesed-up New Pornographers outtakes - frenetic, hyper-pop of the most hummable order. "Bitch Went Nuts" uses the phrase in a more conventional sense and adds a shot of gratuitous profanity for good measure. Call it a guilty pleasure if you'd like - the track has more hooks than a fishing charter. Get it? Hooks? Fishing charter? Ben would think it's funny.
Solutions by The State News
