To be successful, an action film needs only to have two things: a plot that's somewhat interesting and lots of macho characters, memorable one-liners, explosions and weapon fights. "Max Payne" has none of the former and unfortunately lacks the latter.
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.
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.
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."
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.
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.
"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.
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?
"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.
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.
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.
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.
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 are a lot of ridiculous band names out there, but every once in a while, these guys will hit the nail right on the head. Jack's Mannequin: genius. It's got a ring that conveys all of this band's qualities - androgynously nice-looking, probably could be found in an Abercrombie & Fitch store, personality of a stiff piece of plastic. "The Glass Passenger" is the vehicle by which frontman Andrew McMahon pans off his stepford-wife rock 'n' roll on, well, whoever's into this kind of stuff. "The Resolution" and "American Love" will be hits on a spunk-rock station that plays your favorite mix of "80s, 90s and today!" But the kicker is a line from "Annie Use Your Telescope" that yearns, "Is there anybody out there?" It recalls the Pink Floyd song: "Comfortably Numb."
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.
Catwoman, Hello Kitty, Yusuf Islam - whether through black spandex, lunch boxes or folk music, each of these feline enthusiasts have made meaningful contributions to the rich landscape of American pop culture. But not the Pussycat Dolls, who, with "Doll Domination," continue to claw their way through the ranks of tightly clothed MTV inventions with high-cut skirts and lowbrow R&B. "Bottle Pop" features some typically smooth lines from Snoop Dogg, and there's also a song called "I Hate This Part" - the girls showcase their command of irony. A little piece of my soul withered away when I heard this album. Still, this kind of music can't kill the Pussycats - they have nine lives.
Innocence is like a dollar bill in a busted vending machine: Once it's gone, you aren't getting it back. So Jenny Lewis, whose up-until-now enduring image was that of a blue polka-dotted Southern belle, might as well kiss her Dorothy-esque appeal goodbye. "Acid Tongue" gets its title from the line, "I've been down to Dixie and dropped acid on my tongue." A thousand clean-cut boys in Middle America have just lost their princess. Freed from the burden of virtue, the prodigal daughter blossoms in this den of foot-tapping hell-fire. In "The Next Messiah," her sultry voice slithers atop bluesy guitars when a male voice chimes in: "I'm gonna give my love to you on a day you gotta bring it back." Our little girl is a full-grown tramp.
"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.
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.
College students' participation is crucial in deciding which way the presidential elections will swing in November, according to voter registration groups such as Why Tuesday? and indie-rock band Death Cab for Cutie. To encourage students to vote, the band partnered with voter registration groups to organize the Ultimate College Bowl.
Solutions by The State News
