From the realm of the unspeakably bad

I've been busy. Kind of. So postings have been slender around here. It's not like I get paid for this, but I can't leave it as is for days at a time. I just can't. It's like a drug with no high. Maybe the high is knowing I've enriched one person's life who was looking for that perfect link to Johnny Sokko and his Flying Robot. Not that I've done that, but I have goals and I have dreams.

Next week, I'll work extra hard to realize my linking potential. I'll get up at 6:45 instead of 7:00 A.M. I'll skip lunch and I'll start in on that YA fantasy novel trilogy that I have yet to outline (or think about). I want to make it big with money and everything. I have to build a better toothbrush. I'm 45 and time no longer seems to stretch out indefinitely ahead, but is rather rapidly shrinking, like a pocket tape measure heading back into its holder. Which reminds me, I need to find my tape measure and put up those shelves in the family room.

These are the things that get stuck in my head when I'm stuck. They're not good things. They're my "what the fuck?" head things. I used to be a depressed sort with lots of negative internal dialogue going on. I've overcome that trait by making fun of the critical voice, or exaggerating it so much that it's like something out of a Grade Z monster movie (another way of making fun of it, plus it's entertaining). Now I get these little bits of junk media stuck in there instead and I can't mental floss them away until I accomplish those mysterious and obsessive goals that I set for myself (sometimes with no plan--intuitive OCD). I know I'm rambling so let's get to it. I hope you can overcome the stupid things and move on with your lives. I'm off to Grocery Outlet which is like a rummage sale of food. Very exciting.

This Lindsay Lohan Fornarina commercial is bad in a way that never leaves me entirely. It looks like she's reading cue cards, even though her lines consist of "click, pow, wink, bang..." It also looks like someone is off-screen telling her how to pose. She can't even lie down effectively. I hope the people who worked on this have recovered their sense of dignity by now.


More bad: Andy Warhol's Factory as portrayed in the movies. I always imagine working on these sets and watching the actors "get debauched," because these scenes always look like that: a bunch of people acting debauched. Like a rock show, it's impossible to film this scene in any kind of realistic way. It was probably really dull around the Factory most of the time. People working on art and lying around while someone yammered away without pause. If the yammerer was witty--fine. But how many speed freaks have you been stuck with who were witty? There's a few out there, but it's not a vast majority.

Oliver Stone used "wavy cam" in "The Doors" to give off the weirdo vibes. Nico is sort of like an escort-service girl. Jim Morrison can barely string sentences together. At least Stone got permission to use actual Velvet Underground songs, along with his take on the vampiric NYC bohos and a Native American medicine man, looking on disapprovingly. Crispin Glover is always appreciated for being genuinely odd.

"I Shot Andy Warhol" couldn't get the VU permissions, but attempts were made to get the Factory right until bad casting of Edie Sedgwick. This girl (at 4:20) is way too substantial to be Sedgwick, who was a wisp. This girl is from a Maybelline commercial.


"Basquiat"--David Bowie can't lose his British accent while playing Andy, who was from working-class Pittsburgh. Good wig though.


You'd think he would have studied up, having met the man.


"Factory Girl" immortalized the phrase, "You're the boss, applesauce," which isn't a very impressive legacy, for all the attempts at veracity, which end abruptly at the introduction of the unnamed Musician. I don't have to say anything more than Hayden Christensen is Bob Dylan.


Take a lesson from Ms. Cate Blanchett--perhaps the ultimate Dylan impersonator. I like her drug-addled nasty Dylan in "I'm Not There." (Not officially in my unspeakably bad pantheon, although some of this movie did grate).


Peter's voice in Time To Change. I don't care what Greg thinks--this ruined the song.


Here's that Johnny Sokko clip so I can cross it off my "to do" list.

Mental Beach Party Movie Moment

Jesus--have you read the news lately? Everything's endlessly falling apart. People are destroying one another with any weapon available including neglect and starvation. The U.S. is trillions of dollars in debt and our public schools are being threatened with the wrecking ball. The wars continue. How long was the Hundred Years' War again? Can that be repeated?

My kid has a probable somatoform disorder and who can blame him? A physical ailment resulting from mental stress is the only sane response to today's world. I'm doing the one thing I know of to relieve my own stress level. That's right--wallowing in beach party movies. How can these early 60s gems be of the same world we suffer through? There is no answer. There is only this: by the end of the second reel, Frankie and Annette MUST be reunited for there to be order in the beach cosmos.

Buster Keaton does a bit near the end here. Don't feel sorry for him. He was glad to get the work, being a workaholic. For a few years, beach party movies were good for something--a steady pay check.


"It ain't nuthin' without the stuffin'." Have wiser words ever been spoken?


Yes, it's the Beach Boys in their matching sapphire-blue blazer ensembles. When I go on a mental vacation, I go ALL out.


Oh Annette--you'll always be my pineapple princess. I'm sincere. She's adorable.


The horror! The horror!


Closing credits are part of the experience.

UO Free Music Mondays

Urban Outfitters offers five free music downloads every Monday. See? Monday's not so bad. Unless you hate the songs, of course. But I found some good ones. I'm embedding last Monday's mix because I like the Danish band, Oh No Ono. There's a conscious effort to feature some women musicians, so good deal, UO.

What's On Your Wall? - Mamiel

The ongoing wall series continues with blogger extraordinaire, Mamiel of Impotent Rage. If you take the time to read even a few of Mamiel's posts, you will guess that her walls must be of interest. And you would be right.

When I'm having a somewhat cruddy day, like when I'm dealing with childhood iron-deficiency anemia, stomachaches that don't dissipate after two weeks, stool-sample chemical mix-kits and limited lab drop-off times, plus confusion regarding over-the-counter ferrous sulphate dosages at Kaiser Permanente's multiple pharmacies, while doubting our pediatrician's grasp on reality; colorful, personal artwork really lifts my spirit. So thank you, Mamiel, for that.

Mamiel painted the shoe and the bamboo. Who among us does not love this subject matter? Shoes and bamboo are two of my favorite things.

Here's a tin roof tile from a roof with character.
Use your imagination.
Unknown artist - bear painting.


More walls:
Michelle
Linda
Audrey
Captive WW

Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers - New England

Way back in 1977, "Jonathan Richman and The Modern Lovers" had to compete for our attention among such mega-hits as Rod Stewart's putrid Tonight's The Night and Mary MacGregor's maudlin Torn Between Two Lovers. Although I Like Dreamin' by Kenny Nolan was number six on the charts, there was only so much room for simple lyrics and catchy melodies sung with naive (and deceptive) childlike candor.

It was tough finding radio airplay for Modern Lovers' songs such as Lonely Financial Zone, Abominable Snowman In The Market, and Hey There Little Insect, especially among the slickly satisfying production of the disco era. Society was boogieing down to, well, I'm Your Boogie Man, and dancing the night away to--that's right, You Make Me Feel Like Dancing. It would take early-80s college-radio DJs to fully appreciate the playfulness of Richman's musical style. And then a lot of bands, headed by Calvin Johnson at K Records, followed suit. Richman stayed true to his gentle muse and continued to crank out the charming tunes in his nasal twang for three decades.

I'm glad, because Jonathan Richman is a completely musical person. His songs are somewhat raw but are perfect in their execution. His live shows, especially when he was playing with the several incarnations of the Modern Lovers, were loose and spontaneous, yet tightly composed and clearly directed by him, urging his band to "Give me an E. Make that an open E. That's good. Well, here we go now..." It was like watching a fantastic music teacher demonstrating *How to play music proficiently and with enjoyment.* You can hear that throughout his career.

The 1957 footage is courtesy of Robbins Barstow from his epic, two-part documentary of his family's camping trips across the U.S., "Family Camping Through 48 States." His films are available for viewing on the Internet Archive and he's been making and showing movies for more than 70 years. Twenty-five of his films are archived in the National Film Registry. He is also a founding member of the Cetacean Society International, and has worked for decades to protect whales and dolphins, worldwide. His whale-watching films are on YouTube.

There you have it: two creatively passionate guys, working hard for world betterment.

Alice in Wonderland has always been freaky

Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland is finally opening this week after much CGI to-do. It will definitely be a colorful, twisty, springy-haired experience. But hold on a minute; have any of you been audience to the 1933 version of Alice? Directed by Norman McLeod with an adapted screenplay by Joseph Mankiewicz and William Cameron Menzies, who according to The NY Times was the real powerhouse behind the film's look, as the uncredited art director; this freakish, unnatural, uncomfortable world was mostly Menzies' idea, springboarding from Lewis Carroll's scary imagination.

With a mostly unidentifiable cast of all-stars featuring Gary Cooper, W.C. Fields, Cary Grant (as the Mock Turtle!), Billy Barty and Mae Marsh, you'd think this would be a delightful childhood romp. But no. I saw this on television a few times as a child (they used to show old movies a lot in the 70s), and it was very unsettling. Even on a small black & white screen, I could not turn away even though at times, I wanted to. Alice in Wonderlandwill finally be available on DVD on March 2. Enjoy!

This scene with Tweedledum and Dee frightened me terribly. It still does.


This is right out of the John Tenniel illustration from the book.


Talking food. Scary people. Poor Alice.


W.C. Fields as Humpty Dumpty. Gaah.


The Mad Hatter didn't need technicolor to hold my attention.


The Cheshire Cat, made with phospherescent paint and some artful lighting.

Prodigal Sons Trailer

I'm hoping to see this on the west coast on March 5th. It's in New York City this week. Official site and schedule.



Blurb: In this award-winning personal documentary, filmmaker Kimberly Reed attempts to reconcile with her long-estranged brother Marc, who has seen her as a rival since childhood. Their paths diverged long ago: Marc was permanently debilitated in a car accident, and Kim left their small-town roots on a journey of self-discovery. "Prodigal Sons" travels from high school reunions in Montana to family reunions in Croatia, revealing a surprise blood relationship with Orson Welles and Rita Hayworth, and other unforeseeable twists of plot and gender that wouldnt be believable if they were fiction. As all the films subjects freely open their lives to the camera, the candid, sometimes bruising footage takes a tender but unflinching look at identity and the past, examining what it means to become someone new.

Scopitone Midweek Madness

Scopitones were 60s-era forerunners of music videos. These little musical gems lived in specialized jukeboxes throughout Europe and the U.S. in the swinging 60s but were gone by the late 70s. So hell-bent on entertaining their audience, the singers and dancers look like they're about to pop a gasket at any moment, but that's what made the format so great. And the amount of high-grade speed available throughout the entertainment industry certainly had an aesthetic influence. No doubt.

Scopitones.com surely has all your Scopitone needs on hand.









CSS Scopitone mash-up - Let's Make Love and Listen to Death From Above (thanks Tuckers)

Love is in the air

Spring is juuust around the corner. The birds are flitting and twittering like crazy. Squirrels are running in front of my bike at every opportunity and tearing across the back fence with stolen fruit in their mouths. A racoon barreled over our gate the other day and ran by me in the late afternoon, to destinations unknown. A woodpecker has attacked our palm tree with gusto, causing two large fronds to bend and dangle. Maybe with luck, the entire thing will die--I think palm trees look stupid outside of tropical islands. And I found this note in my mailbox, which I think was meant for the teenager who lives a couple doors down.

I never would have had the guts to "mail" something like this to a crush. I was one of those "ride my bike past his house twenty times over the course of a month and hope he notices" types. That never worked out for me. But that was my style. I thought about blocking out the name, but what the hell. Shout it to the rooftops, Jenicka. You're in LOVE.

The 70s were messed up

A lack of boundaries, ramped up television viewership, and fear of being "uptight" led to one messed up society. Enjoy!

The Ricky Gervais Show TONIGHT

At last, a Friday night show that might be worth watching. I'll give it a go. HBO, 9 p.m.

Stranger Than Paradise - 1984

I was galumphing around the Internet last week, searching for images of Eszter Balint (for Facebook celebrity doppelganger week--don't ask), but disappointingly, there were only a few shots from "Stranger Than Paradise," none in close-up (there were no close-ups in that film); certainly no portraits. And some more recent shots, promoting her music career, but hardly any from Jim Jarmusch's deadpan masterpiece.

So I'm going to remedy the situation by posting some stills from "Paradise." It's one of those films that shouldn't have worked at all but against all odds it works wonderfully. I hope no one over at Criterion minds. There's a serious lack of Eszter Balint imagery on the Internets. I'm offering a solution right here, right now.

"Stranger Than Paradise" is noted by film historians for mainly one concept: it changed the rules of cinema. Through singular vision, warped humor, bravery, or sheer nuttiness, Jarmusch played around with the basic "rules" of drama: story arc, conflict, resolution, and basically said to hell with that and created a flat, meaningless universe of blight and emptiness. Eva arrives from Eastern Europe to stay with her Aunt Lotte in Cleveland, gets waylaid to cousin Willie's New York City studio apartment for ten days, then is on her way. Ultimate no-good-nick hipster Willie and his clone Eddie make feeble attempts to connect with Eva again and the whole gang ends up in Nowheresville, Florida, repeating the patterns of their lives. It's bleak comedy in grainy black and white. And now...

Welcome to America!

This is the shot continually thrown around the Internet to sum up the film. It's really more opinionated than anything else the film offers though, and although it looks cool and certainly represents the NYC of 1984, it's not what the film is truly about.

The film is about the emigrant experience of the American Dream, a concept that is flattened here, squashed into a ball and tossed into a wastebasket, or more likely onto a pile of trash on the street during a garbage strike. Much of New York resembled this in the 80s. It was fascinating in a warped way.

Doing nothing with nothing on TV.

Eva dances to Screamin' Jay Hawkins' I Put a Spell on You. Her obsession with this song, brought back to life by Jarmusch after decades of neglect, along with her flat proclamation, "It's Screamin' Jay Hawkins and he's a wild man so bug off," plus her fabulous androgynous fashion sense make her the coolest teenager in cinematic history. In my opinion. I've been dressing similarly to Eva for 35 years and have had people tell me I should try to be "more feminine" for about the same amount of time. So I'm biased.

Ah, New York.

It's a road trip film so it's all about the journey. Except not in this film because they're on the road to seemingly nowhere.

Jarmusch in the background, eating a hotdog.

I've always loved the simplicity of this scene. Four people watching a bad film with a ridiculous kung fu soundtrack. We Americans in general spend a lot of time sitting on our asses, watching stuff, but this had never been portrayed so adequately until this moment.

Cleveland.

Aunt "I am the vinner" Lotte. She is so my grandmother, except my grandmother's family came here by way of Mexico.

Sightseeing.

The Lake.

Florida.

Every motel I've ever stayed in.

And there you have it, the American Dream, Jarmusched.

Haiku Movie Reviews II (the independents)

My friend Laurie and I have accidentally formed a movie-going club of two. We've been lucky and unlucky at the same time as there's quite a lot of good independents to see lately and not enough freelance work between the two of us. Hence: matinees. And Haiku Movie Reviews for you.

The White Ribbon directed by Michael Haneke

The town is rotten
with unfathomable crimes
The town is the world



Crazy Heart directed by Scott Cooper

Jeff Bridges drinks, plays,
sings, crashes, limps, yearns, fucks up,
goes country for real



An Education directed by Lone Scherfig

Jenny--smart, sixteen
falls for shiny surfaces
the dark underneath



Fish Tank directed by Andrea Arnold

Y'r fifteen and pissed
Mom's boyfriend is kind and hot
Is he? maybe not

Have a happy (Valentine's) day

Some people hate Valentine's Day. I may very well be one of them, if not for my seven-year-old. He loves all holidays. Even Groundhog Day holds his interest for the better part of the morning. This year he hand-made all his Valentines for a class of 32, plus two teachers. Our school district fired 450 teachers this year so class size rose by a third. For next year he's mentioned that he might want to BUY his cards for the next big class, and give candy out as well. The consumerism (and a hand cramp from all that drawing and writing) has kicked in. Retailers: be well pleased.

Here's one of his lovely expressions for the day.

Take it away, Desmond Dekker

It's been a trying week. The common cold can really interrupt normal life, making it uncommon and uncomfortable. I haven't ventured out much this week and I don't have a lot of sharp observations to make. Enjoy these Desmond Dekker performances while I read books and drink large mugs full of fruit-flavored tea. This is how I know I'm unhealthy: fruit-flavored tea is not even remotely a favored drink of mine, but right now it's just right. Especially with honey. Num. Speaking of num: Desmond Dekker.

What in the Blog?

Yes, the blog looks different. I thought it was time to make some aesthetic changes around here and see if videos will finally show their right margin and text will be somewhat readable to "older eyes." Bear with me as I futz and putter around, and hopefully all the elements will eventually come together into one fantastic Captive Wild Woman electric boogaloo. Feedback is enjoyed. captiveww (at) yahoo (dot) com. Or just comment why don'cha?

P-Star Rising trailer

I missed this the other night on PBS Independent Lens series. I thought I had the date and time right but when I tuned in, it was Frontline on one channel and Masterpiece Theatre reruns on another. This is what happens when I catch a cold: my ability to logically reason out television schedules (not my strong point anyway) goes by the wayside. Turns out it's on at 10:30 tonight on one of my local PBS stations. They make you work for the scheduling knowledge. Try searching here for your area.

P-Star is a teenager trying to make it in the music business. That is NOT EASY for anyone to do. But I say: go for it, P-Star. She's now in the new Electric Company and she definitely has that built-in charisma that stars so mysteriously possess.

Trailer below. The entire documentary can be seen on the Independent Lens video site until February 16.


Blurb: In the early '80s, Jesse Diaz was a rising star in the hip-hop world. Now a broke single father in Harlem with two children to support, Jesse finds a shot at redemption in his nine-year-old daughter Priscilla Star, a precocious and immensely talented rapper. Director Gabriel Noble follows four years of father-daughter ups and downs as they navigate the grit and the glamour of the music biz.

Bedhead - Bedside Table

Bedhead was Texas-based indie band that formed in the early 90s and kept going until around the turn of the century (that always sounds so epic: The Turn of the Century). The Kadane brothers, Matt and Bubba were the center of the band, but they had a third guitarist, Tench Coxe, as well as the required bass and drums (Kris Wheat and Trini Martinez, respectively; everyone in Bedhead has a great name).

If I were to do Bedhead word association, my first thought would be: quiet; getting louder. My second thought would be: obscurity. The band had its following and critical acclaim but for whatever reason, didn't "take off" like a lot of 90s bands. Probably because they didn't sound like anyone else and with the three ringing guitars, sloooow progressions leading to cathartic crescendos, and vocals way low in the mix, you had to work a little to listen to Bedhead. But they made the work so rewarding: meditative, contemplative, accomplished and beautiful all fit the band's sound. Bedhead is no more, but the Kadanes formed The New Year and kept their sound going.



The 1939 vacation footage was beautifully shot by Wallace Kelly, an accomplished writer, photographer and painter from Lebanon, Kentucky. His films are available on the Internet Archive. Several have been preserved by the Center for Home Movies with funds from the National Film Preservation Foundation. His daughter Martha gave permission for me to edit this together--thanks to you, Martha.

STAROCK - Music for the Future (from the near-distant cable-access past)

Back in the mid-80s, El Space Vato spent awe-struck moments, watching the SF CH-25 cable-access show STAROCK. Now I'm a convert too. You can't see the show any more, but you can enjoy the very unique essence that is STAROCK on their YouTube. Roland Grand was the west coast Dave Stewart to Monica West's Annie Lennox. Together they work potent psychedelic magic. As Vato points out, their enthusiasm is only matched by their incredibly high self-regard. I genuinely like this band and their full-throttle go-for-itness. Anyone this true to their aesthetic gets a head-nod from me. Damn catchy too.

Somebody over at STAROCK forgot to hit the "embedding disabled by request" button when he uploaded this one. So at last I can share their supreme presence with the world.



The lyrics are not top-notch. Note:
Making eyes, meeting guys, telling lies...Joy Riding
Hanging out, tearing out, making out...Joy Riding
Breaking up, shakes me up, but making up...Joy--(and so on)

But look at that gung ho performance by Monica West. She believes in STAROCK. And I'm not going to sit here and deny her belief system. The available STAROCK videos shall remain links for now. Do click--you won't be sorry. Really.

My personal favorite, Your A Natural (sic), with its "One, two, three, yeah, yeah, yeaaaaah" finger-count chorus and sparkly attired West doing free-dance choreography in natural settings to bubble-gum keyboard accompaniment, speaks to me.

STAROCK bills itself as the only band in the world to use PROJECTION TV as an ACTUAL BAND MEMBER! Roland Grand is in "Two Places At Once," on keyboards, bass and drums. Technically that's three places, but that only makes him more fantastic in my book. Projection TV does its thing in The Original Scene.

Now dig this: Changing Faces. Monica looks right through you in an asymetrical striped top and futuristic purple eye-shadow. Roland is in full military garb and also in another place, wearing some kind of poncho or cape-like device. There's a gold record hanging on the wall of the studio. That is the mise-en-scène. Take from it what you will. You won't be sorry.

My video adventures with Scribbler

I got an email a couple weeks ago from a band called Scribbler, asking to make a video for a song of theirs. Since I'm currently completely unemployed and the weather was overcast, I said, yes to that. There wasn't a lot of information on Scribbler, in the email, or on their MySpace page, but I gather they're a group of people from Halifax, Nova Scotia and they're members of a collective involving other Halifaxans called The Radiator Family.

This was an interesting experiment into the unknown. They sent me an MP3 and here's the result:



It's odd, but somehow compelling in its oddness. Then I heard from them again. They wanted another video, this time animated, and set to a song written by their bass player when he was four years old. Actually, I didn't know what they wanted until I received the song--which was obviously written and performed by a very young person.

It's a nice song, but none of the cute animated characters I initially tried worked out. They were so anime-adorable but their body movements were minimal. Their little Hello-Kitty arms could barely reach over their big, round melon heads. It wasn't working. So I used this character instead, who at least is somewhat limber, though creepy. I was sorry to do this to a four-year-old's composition, but the bass player is 24, and I think he'll be OK with it. At least I hope so. I haven't heard anything from Scribbler since I posted this. Perhaps their silence is comment enough.

Tom Hanks Pickle Sandwich

Every once in a while when rambling around the Internet, I find something so inexplicable, I can't even attempt a guess as to why it exists. It just is. This is just such a thing.

Tom Hanks Pickle Sandwich - SUPPENDAPO from wreckandsalvage on Vimeo.

I hate you, pop culture

I watched seven minutes of the Grammys. That's pretty good for me. I just wanted to see half-naked and sparkly Pink dangle from the ceiling and spin around really fast while singing a ballad and not lip synching. She got splashed with water and kept spinning upside down and singing, splittering water all around the stage and onto the first three rows of musical trensetters (excellent use of water). No one was electrocuted and she kept singing nicely and on key. Way to wow everyone, Pink.

Then THIS group showed up and I could not turn away. Luckily someone else has said it all for me in this video. Thank you for shouldering the burden, Gladstone.

Black Eyed Peas Have Officially Written The Worst Song Ever -- powered by Cracked.com

Note: Counting down the minutes until links will be non-working due to copyright issues in 5-4-3...

Radical Feminist Punk Rock Band's First Song

Hot Mess is back! And they're rehearsing their would-be hit single in cousin Bernie's new game room. Take it away, Hot Mess.



- The formation of Hot Mess, radical feminist punk rock band.
- Hot Mess's first cover song and sell-out session.

MADtv predicted iPad with impunity

Sorry to jump on the "making fun of iPad" bandwagon, but who knew MADtv would predict Apple's new cutting-edge technology? All the way back in 2007.

Otis Redding, now THERE was a man - Company C Contemporary Ballet pays tribute

I splurged on some contemporary dance the other night. Mom and my cousin Mary Ann and I all headed down to the Lesher Center in Walnut Creek to see some Company C Contemporary Ballet. What in the world attracted me to contemporary ballet? This man: Otis Redding. Company C's winter program has an entire performance set to his music. When I read about it beforehand, I thought: Now THAT I want to see. And it was great--set in a kind of minimalist speakeasy with lots of emotional interaction between the company and the soloists.

They mix it up a lot, Company C, to an almost schizophrenic degree, but they're highly professional and artistic as hell. I don't know much about contemporary dance, other than the few classes I took in college, but the choreography was really intricate. And there's this very strange and somewhat hypnotic Nine Person Precision Ball Passing program that is just that: dancers set on risers, passing balls to each other like a finely tuned factory machine working in synch with almost childlike electronic music; transfixing. Their winter program continues in San Francisco in February. The 2010 Spring show starts in April and I will be at that show, which will feature choreography by Twyla Tharp.


Company C 2010 Winter Program from Rob Goldring on Vimeo.

Let's listen to the incredibly soulful Otis Redding. All these songs (and more) are featured in the world premier ballet, “Dreams to Remember,” choreographed by Amy Seiwert.






I miss your voice, Otis Redding.

Chronicle says of Company C: A+

Sound Tracks - Music Without Borders (tonight)

I'm going to check out this new PBS show, "Sound Tracks" tonight at 10 p.m. It looks great. Informative blurb:

Sound Tracks will guide millions of PBS viewers, young and old, into a world of exciting music, exotic destinations and different cultures. It is music without borders told by experienced journalists.

Host Marco Werman and his band of journalists will explore culture, music, food, and report their findings back to us in high definition. Tonight's episode features Vladmir Putin propaganda pop, Fela Kuti and the Broadway show he inspired, Mariza, queen of Portuguese blues music, and the phony Kazakhstan national anthem, written and performed by Sacha Baron Cohen's brother, Erran, for "Borat." The "anthem" was entirely recorded by Erran, who overdubbed his voice 40 times for that big, big sound.







You can also watch tonight's episode right here.
The review is in.

Green Porno by Isabella Rossellini

The delightful Isabella Rossellini and filmmaker Jody Shapiro have enhanced our knowledge of insect sex with these creative little films. Charming and somewhat NSFW due to graphic language. Especially the snail.







Sundance Channel's Green Porno site with all three seasons and "behind the scenes" films, featuring costumer Andy Byers. Thanks to Audrey for the link.

"Please Don't" - David Byrne, Fatboy Slim, Santigold

I've been looking for something tangible to post about this upcoming David Byrne/Fatboy Slim album, "Here Lies Love," and finally, here's the first single, Please Don't, free for download and featuring Santigold. I admit I'm here for the Santigold, but I can't deny that I'm looking forward to the February 23rd release of this album that covers biographical stories of Imelda Marcos within a completely disco format, inspired by her love of clubbing.

David Byrne, beloved freak genius, is definitely the only person on the planet who could possibly pull this off. The double album is being released on Todomundo/Nonesuch Records and features vocals by Sharon Jones, Cyndi Lauper, Tori Amos, Sia, and more.

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

Thanks to Pretty Much Amazing for the links.

Say hello to our friends the puppets

Craig Ferguson has a special relationship with puppets.


Peter Hartlaub interviews Charley and Humphrey pupeteer and all-around Bay Area TV personality, Pat McCormick. More Pat. He deserves it. Charley and Humphrey PSAs reside on the SFGate channel--childhood memories revisited!


Referencing another beloved pupeteer, Captain Kangaroo and his friend Moose.


Will Conan O'Brien get to keep the rights to Triumph the Insult Comic Dog? WHO would want Triumph on their team, unwillingly due to contract dispute? That could get ugly.

Wake Up Everybody - Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes

Jackson says, "Martin Luther King worked really hard to make our country a better place for everyone."

Mark McGwire apologizes for using steroids. Cries.

He oozes sincerity in this dramatic reenactment.

A Town Called Panic trailer

A Town Called Panic is a Belgian animated film featuring plastic figurines and their baffling world of chaos. It's coming to a theater somewhere near your universe. Shorts (in English) are available for viewing on the Aardman Channel. And oh, so worth it.

Roger Ebert likes.

Craig Ferguson has the power

to make me laugh.

Help for Haiti

Haiti needs help more than ever. Here's a list of organizations that are accepting donations, courtesy of SFGate.

Jack Logan - Female Jesus

Today's video is from 1994's "Bulk," a double CD put out by Jack Logan on Medium Cool Records. Who is Jack Logan, you may wonder? He's kind of the Peter Frampton of early 90s indie rock. Remember (children of the 70s) how "Frampton Comes Alive" just seemed to APPEAR in everyone's record collection almost instantaneously even though no one had ever heard of Peter Frampton until that moment? And the crazed frenzy of the live shows recorded therein made perfectly plain that This Was Superstar Material. It was kind of baffling at the time.

Well, "Bulk" was kind of the low-key version of that. It just showed up in record stores (remember those?)--two CDs stuffed with songs that were pretty accomplished and thoughtful from a guy no one had ever heard of. But I guess the right people had because Logan had created some superhero comic books featuring REM's Peter Buck as the superhero. When Peter Buck came calling, Jack Logan was there to receive the calls. And even MORE prepared than the average comic-book creator, he had 600 songs ready for publication.

"Bulk" wasn't quite THAT bulky, but it did seem to exist where there was formerly nothing there. And Female Jesus is my favorite song on it (although there's quite an array to choose from), so here's a video with some 40s-era Chicago scenes. My other music videos were more naturally "born" of archival footage. This one I sort of crammed my own ideas into it, using what I had on hand, which is rich in scope, thanks to the Prelinger Archives.

Tiny Fuppets - Internet Follies

Doing stuff on the Interweb takes longer than you think. That's the first rule of any project, I suppose (except those involving Tumblr--near-instant gratification every time). While I work out the computer (and brain, upstairs toilet, and roof-top squirrel invaders) kinks around here, enjoy Scott Gairdner's delightful romp into fake-Portuguese children's television programming, Tiny Fuppets.

Greek Tragedy Performed by Dominos

And what look to be popsicle sticks. Pointless. Tragic. Epic.

See more funny videos and TBT Videos at Today's Big Thing.

McCabe & Mrs. Miller - Time for Leaving

Not the Robert Altman movie, but the band featuring Victor Krummenacher and Alison Faith Levy. The video was shot by Danny Plotnick in and around a swell motel in Yucca Valley and Joshua Tree. Evocative!

Make it a Nancy Sinatra / Lee Hazlewood kind of year

Nancy Sinatra is a classic 60s icon for the ages. Her collaborations with songwriter Lee Hazlewood (he of the consciousness-exploring gunslinger image) helped make America one of the greatest places in the history of Earth's habitation of humankind. Let's explore the philosophical life lessons of pop music's dynamic duo.

Hang tough in 2010, everyone. Know when it's best to just walk away from a psychotic situation. Sometimes having the right footwear is your best defense.


Make time for romance in your life. It doesn't always have to be with a person. Sometimes passions run deep for the concepts that make life worth living: food, wine, art, silver spurs, a nice string arrangement. Just enjoy in moderation, especially with the spurs.


Your narrative doesn't always have to make sense. It might be complete nonsense. As long as you have a mythical, sweet-singing goddess to break in and alter your key changes, you'll be fine.


Let your freak flag fly. Maybe someone will come along and make a video of it. And it will include a hot air balloon. I think if you keep a positive attitude and wear a polka-dotted item of clothing once in a while, this can come true.


And if the blues set in, don't let them do you in. Just learn some blues chord progressions. Cathartic!


A seminal moment for me was meeting these two backstage at the Filmore in '95 when Nancy was touring to promote her album, "One More Time." My dad, who has an excellent radar for greatness, made a beeline for Hazlewood (a surprise guest at the show), shook his hand and told him how cool he was. You can be sure that if my dad makes a point of crossing the room to shake your hand to tell you how great you are, you're pretty fucking great. We clustered around Nancy like preteens at a Beatles concert while she urged us to sample the crafts services offerings so they wouldn't go to waste. I have it on very reliable source that she is a most kind-hearted soul. I do not doubt this one iota. If only 2010 could be so great. Here's to hoping.