<![CDATA[CHUD.com - A Movie Website and SO MUCH MORE. - Blogs]]> http://chud.com/articles en-us N/A nicknunziata@gmail.com Sat, 21 Nov 2009 18:32:34 EST 20 <![CDATA[Them Crooked Vultures]]> http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2134/Them-Crooked-Vultures.html
Hell Yeah!!!

Cheesy reaction? Maybe. But a more seriously well-deserved exclamation perhaps has not been sounded since, oh, maybe since QOTSA's Rated R or Led Zeppelin's second album were released to rabid fans. In fact, if I were to tell you that at one point, when the Clavinet lead in track #6 'Scumbag Blues' came on I jumped from my seat and pumped my fist in the air would I be risking a slew of justified mockery?

Probably. But I could care less. In case no one's noticed I am a music junkie/snob/fanboy extraordinaire and to have a collaboration like this, that rocks this damn hard, well, I'll take the jabs and then some. Because simply put, Them Crooked Vultures RULES!!!

Thirteen tracks. Let's start there. If you were to ask the cut I'd imitate Joe Cabot's Thing-like voice and say, 'Juicy Junior. Reeeaaal juicy!' We've got Homme on guitar and vocals, Grohl on the skins* and John Paul Jones on Bass and various keys. JOHN PAUL JONES!!! Other than being one-forth of possibly the greatest rock band of all time (yeah, I mean that) this guy is one of the meanest masters of the thick-stringed axe to ever live. Everyone in Zeppelin was top tier** but the rhythm section - Bonzo and Jonesy were, along with Moon and Entwistle, among the archetypal powerhouses we would see influence bands like The MC5, The Jesus Lizard, and even some sludgier stuff like The Melvins and Helmet.

I'd be lying if I didn't say that to a degree the album sounds like the new QOTSA album. The recording technique especially reminds me of Era Vulgaris - a lot of room on the drums and vocals, and more than you'd usually hear on the guitars of a modern rock album. My theory since Era has been that Mr. Homme has gone back to eating hallucinogenics and playing his guitar in the desert and this has influenced his approach to capturing the feeling of that massive desolation on his records. The influence of Kyuss' heyday generator parties and the Desert Sessions is always felt in Queens, but these last two efforts, it's a major part of the sound. Neither Era nor Vultures sound like anything else Homme's done in Queens and I for one like the mutation. But to say that Vultures sounds like the next logical Queens album also undermines it, because there is A LOT of JPJ and Dave Grohl on this thing.

For one the clav's (is that the Hohner Clavinet?), organs and bass effects scream of Zeppelin. That aforementioned bit in Scumbag Blues is so reminiscent of Zep's Trampled Under Foot it's a thrill. But then there's the riffage. Some is classic Homme, that Kyuss-and-beyond-sci-fi sound, but some is also trilly and very English - reminiscent of Jones' 1999 mind-fuckin' solo album ZOOMA. And the Zep comparisons don't stop there either, because Grohl plays his drums really hard here - obviously the man is no Bonzo (not an insult - who is?) but he tries and sounds great doing it here. Again, lots of room on the kit in some tracks and you can hear the way he is just beating the hell out of the skins. It's common knowledge that Bonzo was often mic'd from far away, like outside the room and down the stairwell far away, and that's what Grohl is going for here.

People complain all the time that there's no good rock music any more. It irritates me more and more because I often feel like I would go broke if I actually tried to buy everything that comes out every year that is good. Of course a lot of those folks who complain have been singing the same lazy song since, oh, let's say 1994, when a certain band ceased after its front man's suicide. Those are the folks that, in reality, really aren't all that into music - they were at the time because it was the boom wave to be so and this constant complaining is their way of getting out of saying that they're really just too lazy and fickle to love music enough to go out and FIND the good stuff. Lot's of great bands out there working their asses off folks, but the trick is you've gotta find 'em. In most cases radio and/or empty-v aren't going to give them to you. In the case of TCV they will because it's a band comprised of modern legends. Just remember, maximum volume yields maximum results.

I'll leave you with my a quote of my favorite non-Morrissey lyrics in quite some time:

"On the good ship Lollygag- LSD and a bloody pile of rags" - track #9, Interludes with Ludes.

Nice. Who says poetry is dead?
.................

* Where he belongs. Sorry, I respect the hell out of the man, I mean, who in 1994 would have thought the drummer from Nirvana would have gone on to do anything,  but I couldn't care less about the foo fighter's sometimes sappy, often crappy style of radio-rock.

** Even though Plant's sometimes masturbatory oo's, ah's & ah-pushes could get a bit embarrassing while driving around with my parents in their wood-paneled Chrysler Mini-van listening to the box set that introduced me to them in 1990.
]]> no@spam.com (Shawn C. Baker) Thu, 19 Nov 2009 00:00:00 EST http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2134/Them-Crooked-Vultures.html <![CDATA[walmart gets tough on black friday violence (hah!)]]> http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2121/walmart-gets-tough-on-black-friday-violence-hah.html
Those who know me know that to say that I abhor even the concept of this frenzy-inducing shot of adrenaline the retailers oh so methodically inject into three-fourths of the population in order to stir up that primordial territorially-obsessed primate within us to make their numbers is an understatement. I understand wanting a good deal, I don't understand letting a retailer control even a moment of your life if you're giving them money.

But year in and year out people do it. It becomes an event. Something to plan and look forward to. I get wanting to have 'Events' in your life, I just don't get wanting to have them in retail stores. Go wait outside for the pound or one of those awful pet stores with all the crying animals in cages to open and adopt a cat or dog instead of waiting to fight others over a three-dollar toaster oven. I guarantee the animal will bring you more happiness and if you still want the toaster oven, it'll probably be on sale for ten dollars on December 15th, caphiche?

Last year my hatred of Black Friday was very unfortunately justified when Jdimytai Damour, a temporary worker at a walmart store was trampled to death by a mob of bargain-hungry consumers, most of whom did not even stop to notice or lend a hand to the man they killed on their way through the doors. I blogged about this last year**. I of course blame walmart, but I moreso blame the people. How is it we've come so far in so many ways but we still act like brainless animals when it comes to the whim of the company's that create the world we live in? walmart is a major force in the world and if that's not scary enough on the corporate level, it's even scarier on the ground floor, where tragedies like this occur.

So of course the question one year later is 'will walmart do anything differently this year for black friday sales', like oh, I don't know, maybe not open their doors - a retail 'Moment of Silence' for Jdimytai Damour's memory?

Yeah right. Remember how quick they re-opened after the tragedy last year?

What they are doing is not closing any of their stores the night before. So in other words, a bunch of folks will get caught working through one of the only family-oriented holidays we have left***. That's their answer. So according to the Los Angeles Times article I'm referencing here**** this will negate the line-up and trample (also known as the AC/DC effect) that has been common knowledge now as a 'cultural event' for decades - the kind of last minute amusing anecdote Ron Majors or any local night time news anchor rounds out their broadcast with three days beforehand, adding their own little quip or pun for charm's sake. Yes, this ridiculously loutish behavior has been a pin of flair on the lapel of the U.S. for some time now and it took Jdimytai Damour to bring any amount of outrage to it at all on the media-coverage level. So what does walmart do?

Again, they stay open all night.

Never mind what happens the moment the sales begin? What will trigger the first sales minute? Will it be the 5 am hour on the nose? May I suggest 6:66 am instead? Will hordes of customers inside the store, tired and hopped-up on various canned energy drinks and bad strip mall coffee not all rush and swarm for $1 axe body spray gift sets and miley cyrus training bras?

In response to questions about handling the environment inside the store walmart company spokeswoman Daphne Moore was quoted by the aforementioned LA Times as saying:

"Customer and associate safety is a top priority for us, and this year is no different,"

This year is no different? Oh yeah, what about last year? Obviously it is different mam, otherwise one Jdimytai Damour would not be dead.

....................

- 'Roll back your sleeves and chop off your head, here comes the black friday to strengthen your dread.' - excerpt from a sam walton-penned nursery rhyme dick 'taco' cheney reportedly sings to his grandchildren.

...................

* Link to it here and thanks to Mr. Brown for even reminding me I wrote that! http://chud.com/articles/blogs/1433/Roll-back-your-sleeves-.html

** Even if it is an observance of a lot of other senseless deaths. But hey! Historically significant senseless deaths, eh?

*** http://www.latimes.com/business/la-fi walmart11-2009nov11,0,94226.story?track=rss

]]> no@spam.com (Shawn C. Baker) Mon, 16 Nov 2009 00:00:00 EST http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2121/walmart-gets-tough-on-black-friday-violence-hah.html <![CDATA[The Smiths & Universal Harmonics]]> http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2110/The-Smiths-amp-Universal-Harmonics.html get' the band for a long time. I've been slowly sinking into their music over the course of the last ten or so years, not until most recently becoming literally obsessed with the albums The Queen is Dead and Meat is Murder. And of course when I get obsessed with something I always have the itch to share it here, so...

I remember in high school a lot of the folks I hung with who were into punk and what was then legitimately 'alternative' music* loved The Smiths, but when I heard them in the context of that time and place I just did not get the correlation. I've waxed on in other blogs about the pantera-tinted blinders I still had on in those days and as much of a gradient as there was between something as (hindsight alert) bad as pantera and as awesome as Fugazi it was still way too many steps ahead in my musical evolution to understand the appeal of The Smiths then. But I'm a firm believer that you find some stuff when you need it, or at least when you're primed to understand it, and that would definitely describe my relationship with The Smiths of late. It's been a dark and gloomy year and there is something so sincere in this band's gallows view of music that it has fit in ways that kind of freak me out a little bit. Every person is a process through time - I'm a firm believer that 'human being' is a derogative statement; we are not 'being' anything, conjugation of the word 'to be' implies stasis and anyone who is even remotely self aware can recognize we are anything but static. If you are, too bad for you. Me, I change every year, every month, shit, sometimes every day and I've mutated now into someone who feels not only the famous Morrissey's voice and lyrics in the pit of my soul but also Johnny Marr's guitar, Andy Rourke's bass and Mike Joyce's drums and their uncanny symbiotic relationship to those vocals. This is a group in every sense of the term. For example, in songs like Bigmouth Strikes Again it's as if Marr's guitar takes up the exact punctuation of Morrissey's words the beat after they break. The music is more a cohesive, emotional whole as opposed to being the sum of its parts.

Because I'm often an over-thinker I believe The Smith's have struck this harmonic with me now - as they no doubt have with so many before at different times in their lives - because of where my head is at in relation to the aging process**. There is something so Universal about Morrissey's lyrics - art imitates life but this is ridiculous. The more I live the more experiences I have, good or bad, and they line this large, abstract corridor of time that will eventually dead end with my tombstone and in some really strange way when Morrissey sings it seems like he's singing to you as if he's standing over your tombstone - there are moments of the most haunting, appropriately applied technique - reverb - like the last bits of consensual reality reflecting and refracting off the stone walls of the grave while you are being lowered into it, everything in the world you ever knew receding on the tide of your life as it ebbs away from you forever. I'm sure this sounds melodramatic but if there's one thing The Smiths have taught me it's that melodramatic can be good when executed with a certain degree of panache.

That's it. Abrupt ending perhaps, but fitting given the mood of the piece. It's been a hard couple days and I'm recoiling into some Weiss beer and yes, as many more rotations of these albums as I can get before I pass out.

Cheers.

........................

* I'm thinking here specifically of a boy named Brian's house and how it introduced me to Fugazi, Black Flag, Rollins Band, Ned's Atomic Dustbin and waaaayyy to much more to keep wasting space here)

** Thanks Six Feet Under!!!
]]> no@spam.com (Shawn C. Baker) Fri, 13 Nov 2009 00:00:00 EST http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2110/The-Smiths-amp-Universal-Harmonics.html <![CDATA[The Revolving Door of Guy Ritchie's 'Revolver']]> http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2105/The-Revolving-Door-of-Guy-Ritchie039s-039Revolver039.html
Would the same be true for Revolver? I didn't know, but I was afraid. Yes afraid. You see, I hate to see people whose work I love fail. I know, I know, I should make up my mind for myself on these things and normally I do. But sometimes, well sometimes when something gets such bad reviews, not just in the mags or sites but from the folks you know, well, it can be daunting setting out to make up your own mind feeling like it's just going to be an awful experience. This then makes the work in question that much worse if it does suck because hey, you could have avoided it.

But I finally saw Revolver. And... I don't know if I have a clue how I feel about it.

My catalyst for finally seeing it was a good friend recently saw it and liked it. He wouldn't say he understood it, but he basically said when it was over he felt as though he'd seen something staggeringly original and profound. After my first viewing the other night I almost felt the same way, except the whole time I was watching the movie a single phrase kept oscillating through my slightly foggy head.

This just doesn't work.

By the end of that first viewing I really felt like Ritchie had huge, sweepingly profound things to say in Revolver and did indeed manage to say them. And yet much like a hippie trying to describe the profound insights of thirty years of brain-frying acid washing Ritchie's explanations seemed to come out wrapped in fit-like mouthfulls of nonsense.

I get this.

I've studied a lot of abstract theory and a lot of times it's next to impossible to know where to begin when the itch catches you to try and share the information with others. Usually what I find in these situations is the people who are going to understand it anyway seem to get it from you in the ineffable spaces of the conversations - the silences, the ponderings, the I-don't-know-how-to-say-this's. I think this is maybe at best where some of the ego-squashing, celebrity-Kabballah stuff comes through in Revolver, because what is filmed and spoken, while doing a pretty good job of approximating a transference or presentation of the ideas, gets bogged down in the insecurities and unfathomables of trying to write a sleek, entertaining crime movie as the vehicle to deliver those intangible ideas.

So I watched Revolver once, then watched it again the second night (last night) and then immediately followed that up with about a good third of the movie with commentary.Yeah, when I see something like this it's often hard for me to tell if it's the flick or just me that's not getting it, so if it's an artist I respect I work for it, you know? So I figure let's hear what they themselves have to say...

Well, it's not just me. After two-and-a-third viewings I can say I see what my friend saw on his one viewing - that there is something massively profound contained within Revolver. The problem is Ritchie, not taking the lesson from his own creation, had failed to subdue his ego before making it and thus the film suffers from the kid-with-a-new-toy excitement of a man totally swept up by a revelatious* idea. If you hated Revolver, if you loved it or if you were like me and were wholeheartedly on the fence with it go back and listen to Mr. Ritchie try and explain it on the commentary - it sounds like Prof. Frink on the Simpsons espousing hyperbolic theory for 'even the most dimwitted individuals' - he hurriedly play-by-plays the ideas in the script as if it were just so amazingly obvious that there's no time to dwell for those who don't get it. In fact at some point he mentions that the commentary track we are hearing is a second pass - apparently the first one was so riddled with obscurity that the studio had him do it again, this time with his assistant and what sounds like a studio-appointed 'wrangler' present simply to keep him from getting to confusing (or condescending maybe?).

In the end I still don't know what I think of Revolver. I can't say I hated it overall but at times I definitely did. I can't say I liked it but at times I did. I know that a lot of it works if you work, but I also know there are a lot of things about it that simply do not, in any way, shape or form work. And I'm sure I could watch it a few more times (it is well shot and the score is fantastic) but then again, I have my own ineffable ideas to quantize. I'll stick to the Guy Ritchie I know and love and hope Sherlock Holmes is as good as it looks.

.....................

* I know that's not really a word but it is now and I'm coining it here!!!
]]> no@spam.com (Shawn C. Baker) Mon, 09 Nov 2009 00:00:00 EST http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2105/The-Revolving-Door-of-Guy-Ritchie039s-039Revolver039.html <![CDATA[Ladies & Gentlemen I have a new favorite band (again)]]> http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2100/Ladies-amp-Gentlemen-I-have-a-new-favorite-band-again.html
I was so intrigued at this description that I immediately went over to hype machine* and looked the band up. However I had trouble finding anything more than one song and then there was trouble with my internet so the streaming took forever, blah blah, yah yah.

I forgot about it. Not completely. No. One thing I've learned is that the old, 'I walk into a record store and forget what I want to buy' affliction has mutated into the 'I can think of a million things a day to research on the internet but the second I sit down in front of the computer all I can do is go to facebook'. So at any given time during the days since that email a co-worker might've been telling me about the best mac and cheese they've ever had or a movie they'd recently seen and I would blurt out, "Oh! I need to check out A Place To Bury Strangers!' and then sometimes that co-worker would not talk to me anymore, perhaps taking my unexplained tangent as a literal endeavor.

Anyway, while stuck in Chi town recently nursing a MAJOR sinus infection** I remembered. And this time not only did I remember the band but I remembered to jot myself a note.

Flash forward to yesterday. I found said note and immediately went about researching the group.

Wow.

First, go here and listen to the first track that comes up, should be 'In Your Heart'.

http://hypem.com/#/search/a%20place%20to%20bury%20strangers/1/

Now, right off the bat I hear the Ministry and MBV, but I'll be damned if I don't also hear some old Bauhaus. The track 'Dancing' originally from 'Press the Eject and Give Me the Tape'  - Daniel Ash has a technique for using the guitar's harmonics almost like bells, and that's exactly what I'm hearing right as 'In Your Heart' opens.

I've filtered around and listened to a few more tracks by A Place to Bury Strangers and they're all killer, although as anyone who tracks stuff down on the internet first knows you don't get a feel for the way the actual albums are arranged, and I'm thinking these guys are an album-oriented group, so it's off to Amoeba one day real soon to scoop them up (I believe they only have two albums, one from this year and one from 2007) and if they're as good as I think they'll be you'll probably hear me ranting about them again.

I love finding new music.

.....................

* The self-appointed music blog 'zeitgeist' Hype Machine is really cool. It filters all (or at least most) of the MP3 blogs from around the world and you can stream stuff on it. Like an online itunes that has access to all the stuff you don't have)

** When you live in California and come home to the Midwest and get sick a lot of people assume you have H1N1 and give you dirty looks.
]]> no@spam.com (Shawn C. Baker) Wed, 04 Nov 2009 00:00:00 EST http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2100/Ladies-amp-Gentlemen-I-have-a-new-favorite-band-again.html <![CDATA[An Open Letter to Ti West... and then some]]> http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2102/An-Open-Letter-to-Ti-West-and-then-some.html
It is a rare thing when you wait for something for so long only to have it meet, let alone exceed your expectations. Honestly I cannot remember the last time something like that has happened to me in the realm of film. You however sir, you've made me quite a happy man.

Last night I was able to attend one of the few screenings of your newest film, THE HOUSE OF DEVIL in Los Angeles (I believe it's only playing for 6 days, four show times a day. A shame when you figure saw is playing everywhere 'for halloween' - nothing is less Halloween than saw) and for the remainder of the night I was in such a good mood I could barely fall asleep.

First let me state the obvious - you sir, you get it. I know The House of the Devil is being pimped as a homage to 80's horror movies, but that is not what I saw at all. What I saw was the perfected version of those movies of yore. You took the concepts, atmosphere and technique of the forgotten 80's horror films and perfected them. It stops being an homage when you surpass, and make no mistake about it Mr. West, surpass them you did.

I cannot think of a single movie from that era that performs this strong across the board. Some who might read this will mistake what I'm saying, but I know you get it Mr. West. I'm not suggesting you've dethroned JC's Halloween or Hooper's TCM, but you've at least earned a spot on the same shelf. There is a long list of imperfect, forgotten flicks out there like House by the Cemetary, 976-Evil, ah, see, I can't even think of anymore of them off the top of my head. The stuff you'd see on a UHF station at 11 PM on a weeknight in 1988; fuzzed out and edited for content but creepy and disturbing nonetheless. This is the arena you've entered and mastered with The House of the Devil and I for one was absolutely fucking mezmerized THE ENTIRE time I sat in my uncomfortable chair at the art-house theatre with my eyes glued to the screen. The acting was top notch, the set design was breathtaking and every little nuance of the camera work, from the wide shots on the house so we could see protagonist Samantha frantically trying to keep the dark at bay to close-ups on the kitchen sink was an integral part of the slow and steady descent into absolute horror you gave us, and for this I thank you. You have a fan for life sir.

Shawn C. Baker

.........................

So I had to start this one out with a personalized shout out. Drag Me to Hell is a close contender, and I did LOVE it so, but The House of the Devil was just unbelievably constructed and I have to give it horror movie of the year (decade?).

Let's tick off the checklist, shall we?

Acting? Check. Jocelin Donahue was FANTASTIC in the lead as Samantha. This was such a great performance because a lot of it was acting and reacting to the House itself, a strong 'character' of malevolence and foreboding for many of the key moments of the film. And when she turned on the terror in the third act, she really turned it on. Sent some freakin' shivers down my spine, I can tell you that.

Tom Noonan, where the hell do I start? The scene at the kitchen table, where Samantha initially turns Mr. Ullman down - the way he started, jerking up out of his seat suddenly into a half-stance as if to grab her by the wrist. WOW! It's amazing something so simple can be so effective, but it was. I'm still marveling after their chemistry on screen together, especially there. Jocelin's reaction to Noonan was perfect!

Mary Woronov - Serpentine. That's all I can say. Serpentine.

And AJ Bowman  - creepy as hell with no gimmicks. The lighter scene with Megan - wow.

Next - setting. Do I even need to say how well that house was chosen and shot? I'll be walking through that one in nightmares for years to come* and all cinematic houses of ill repute will be held to the standard it set. The camera work made special attentions to small things like doorknobs, window frames and faucets and every single nuance added up to a whole - a whole lotta creepy.

And speaking of camera work, I've already heard some people say there is an 'amateur' technique here. Well, if I ever hear that in person you better believe I am going to walk over and smack the fucking taste out of the naysayer's mouth. Amateur my arse. What I saw was a return to the simpler, more powerful film making of the 70's and 80's. Horror nowadays is shot and cut for the empty-v generation, the video game generation, and the text generation. Flash - Cut - Flash - Cut. Music non-stop to cross-market the soundtrack.** No one can ever just hold on something and let the scene, setting and actors breathe naturally like they would be wont to do in real life. Ti West did and that is why this movie was so goddamn frightening by the end - it literally had my pulse pounding and my senses riveted by the time the climax came in, so I was almost as disoriented and terrified as poor Samantha.

Wow, I could go on all night, but instead I'd rather throw on Confessions of a Knife by My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult and think back to the days of the great Satanic Panic. Perhaps I'll even take a dip in the true crime section (normally gag!) and look for a copy of Satan Says. Ah, the good old days... when evil lurked in the corners of every small town!***

...............

* Partially because it reminded me in some ways of the house where I grew up. Minus the dissected ten year old upstairs and giant pentagrams. Ours weren't quite so ostentatious!

** And major props to Composer Jeff Grace and Audio Designer Graham Reznick for the sound!!!

*** A selfish statement indeed upon reflection when thinking about the downsides to that ridiculous time - West Memphis Three anyone? How entire towns (states? Countrys?) of people got so ignorant is beyond me. Real life tragedies aside, the era is a great catalyst for lore.
]]> no@spam.com (Shawn C. Baker) Mon, 02 Nov 2009 00:00:00 EST http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2102/An-Open-Letter-to-Ti-West-and-then-some.html <![CDATA[The Six Degrees of Bacon...]]> http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2096/The-Six-Degrees-of-Bacon.html
To be home with my wife and cats.

However that wasn't happening as my layover flight was delayed and to substitute I wanted 1) a Guinness and 2) a burger. Now, as if I had not already eaten enough red meat with all the Italian beef sandwiches, hot dogs and pizza (meals like those make my 'da bears' accent come back) I still just wanted a hamburger. Should be easy in a modern airport, right?

Not so...

First I was lucky I had a delay because I had to take those moving walkways all over the freakin' airport to find a restaurant that had 1) Guinness and 2) a burger. Three out of five restaurants I saw were Mexican-themed, which of course in the Phoenix, AZ airport means they're run by white folks making awful attempts at forcing tacos into sandwiches on breads with names like Ciabatta. On top of this these Faux-Mex restaurants do not serve Guinness - it would contradict their image. Instead they serve plenty of crappy patriotic lagers and 'cutting egde' travesties like bud light with lime.

Ugh. We used to try and do that at keggers years ago - lime does make bad American Lager better, but not by much and 'better' here is comparable to, oh I don't know, saying, 'No - let the midget with the razor-studded dildo have his way with me rather than the rhinoceros'. In other words, either way you lose!!!

There was a fox sports bar, but I REFUSE to give fox my money for food and alcohol. Not to mention there were a million television screens playing EVERY SPORT EVER PLAYED at the same time at super high volumes. I had a copy of the new Irvine Welsh with me (thanks Gina) and I just wanted to eat and get a little sloppy with 'the schemies' in peace and quiet**.

Finally I found a place. They had a couple tv screens on the World Series, which is fine. If I was going to go back to following any sport it'd be Baseball, and the sets were only on the inside and at a reasonable volume. I sat on the place's 'Patio' and was very relieved to order a burger and a Guinness, which happily came in a GIANT glass. I set about decompressing.

I ordered my burger but apparently I had not looked at the menu very well. When the waiter asked if I wanted everything on the sandwich I replied with my customary 'Everything except cheese and mushrooms'. In Cali I would have added mayo to the 'no' list because EVERY burger in California comes with mayo on it, but here I was safe. I don't hate mayo, but I got so deathly ill from mayo on a fast food chicken sandwich one time I've been resolute in my restaurant boycott of the stuff.

Anyway, when the burger came I had the tiniest initial inklings of a buzz and it took me a minute to realize that there was the usual and greatly appreciated lettuce, tomato and raw onion on it, but there was also grilled onions and bacon! It looked like half heart attack, half salad on bread. I'm not generally one to complain (unless there's mayo) and after looking at the menu again I realized that truly it was 'my bad' - the place's standard burger did indeed come with these artery-clogging accoutrements. Normally I would not eat bacon on a burger, especially alongside grilled onions. When Wendy's said the baconator and I said 'not a chance'. However, I had my Guinness, and I really wanted a burger... In true Adam West fashion I grappled with the decision at hand. Must... eat... deadly... meatpile... (it didn't occur to me until halfway through to just take the offending ingredients off).

I took a bite.

Now, in no way do I want anyone to interpret this as an anti-bacon mission statement. On the contrary. I love bacon. Bacon has done a lot of great things for me. When I used to go to the Empty Bottle in Chicago to see Cash Audio***, drummer and all around nice guy Scott Giampino used to have a skillet attached to his drum kit for down home percussion but would often also use it to fry up bacon before the show, hand it around to those of us hanging out and singing their praises. Another time while really hung over in Dayton, Ohio I experienced the best bacon I'd ever had - I ate soooo much and loved every heart-clogging minute of it, eventually regretting it later but hey, that's life right? Or rather that's bacon. And that is especially bacon when piled on top of a thick ground beef patty and slathered with grilled onions.

I took another bite.

I couldn't decide whether it was the best burger I'd ever had because I was so freakin' sick of being on a plane and in airports (five days before it had taken me 12 hours and half the United States to reach Chicago) or because of the life-threatening ideologies swarming over my tongue and down my throat, falling like grease-soaked meteors into the abyss of my Guinness-soaked, antibiotic strewn stomach. Hmmm, I thought, taking a gulp of beer to wash the fresh mouthful of mess down. I couldn't quite place the sensation I was having - was it breakfast or dinner? Life or death? My travel schedule wouldn't be able to help me figure it out so I leaned in for another bite...

That's when I realized - this was actually pretty gross.

What I had mistaken for flavor was really the negligent American idea that more is better and the bigger, more deadly the meal the more it will 'fill you up'.

Bullshit.

This is why we are such horribly addictive consumers friends - we don't think before we buy, or eat in this case. We listen to what the images and innuendo tell us. Here I am sitting in an airport, famished, pummeling my exhausted system with a double-helix of meat to try and feel better when really, a good cut of beef pattied and fried up with some greenery fixin's would have been the perfect thing. I neglected what I wanted for what they gave me, what they thought I wanted, and that was my first mistake.

My second was forgetting my Pepto.

Thank god for further delays.

........................

* Not the one in the grocer's freezer

** With such unreasonable demands for modern-day America it's no wonder that in some states I've been mistaken for A) a communist B) a Satan worshipper C) a smart ass.

*** Serendipitous that I would come around to Cash Money being asterisked again - this is the one I forgot to supply an explanation for a few blogs back. Cash Money was a fantastic Bourbon-soaked blues-rock band on the Touch and Go label in the late 90's. Based out of Chicago Scott Giampino was indeed the drummer and John Humphrey was the guitarist/vocalist. Despite having no bass guitar Humphrey ran his guitar amp's line out through a bass amp to pick up the low end, and let me tell you, they didn't need the bass. Feverish in their reverent-performances of dirty-ass indie rock dusted with Memphis and Nashville mutations these guys slammed so hard it was incredible. Sadly, a shitty rap crew sprung up with the same name and legally strong armed the guys into changing their name, which they did, to Cash Audio. Not the same but those of us who knew and loved them still refer to them by their real name to this day, even though the band essentially laid down their arms in the early part of this decade. Ahhh Scott and John, I hope you guys are well out there, still playing good old, hard-drinking rocknroll in some form or another. I think you can hear snippets of them here, if you like it buy an album or two and give these guys some posthumous dough!!! http://www.orangerecordings.com/cashaudio.html
]]> no@spam.com (Shawn C. Baker) Fri, 30 Oct 2009 00:00:00 EDT http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2096/The-Six-Degrees-of-Bacon.html <![CDATA[Hoegaarden]]> http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2089/Hoegaarden.html
Hoegaarden.

Often debated on how to pronounce it ('it can't be pronounced how it looks, can it?' I've heard adamant testaments to both and as wonderful as the Hoegaarden website is* I did not see it addressed there. However, whether you're thinking about Chris Cornell pruning the leaves off of a hooker shrub or picturing Keith Moon whipping empty bottles off a posh hotel roof in Luxembourg, Hoegarden is a light, crisp and really freakin' delicious Belgian Wheat Ale that, well quite frankly is downright dangerous. You think no one can eat just one Lay's? One Hoegaarden, I blink and a six pack has vanished. Usually in the course of a few short hours (I don't want to tell you how many the last one went down in or I'll really feel like an alcoholic). Traditionally Wheat ales are spiced with Coriander and Orange peel, hence why you often see them served with orange wedges (save it for the American knock-offs - the hoe doesn't need it) this beer is so light and refreshing that, well, I mean really. Refreshing. That's a word that gets bandied about a lot but this, DAMN. It's true. Sometimes I wish there was a non-alcoholic version so I could drink it any time of the day. I love the taste that much.

Now I know not everyone knows how to drink good beer (how many times I've seen people drinking these from bottles - UGH!!!) so here's some tips. But don't take it from me, I got these pouring tips from the beer's website:

There is a specific way to pour a Hoegaarden that maximises both the aroma and the taste experience.

When pouring from the bottle, the hexagonal glass should first be rinsed and, ideally, laid in ice to ensure it is perfectly chilled.

When ready, tilt the glass to a 45-degree angle and pour two-thirds of the bottle. The bottle should then be swirled as this awakens the head of the beer and enlivens the yeast that may have settled during storage.

Stand the glass in an upright position, and twist the bottle around as you pour out the remaining beer to create a thick head of creamy foam.

Okay, so follow that I assure you that you will have a wonderful experience that will, well, maybe not last all night, but then if you drink enough of them quick enough, as beer this good inspires folks to do, neither will you. But een if debauchery ensues, you'll love the beer.**

And that's it. This is a short one because as you read it I am coming back from a last minute trip to Chicago for a funeral and I've just not got it in me right now. So go to a local specialty store, pick up a pack of Hoegaarden and toast my Aunt Joyce.

Cheers
................

* http://www.hoegaarden.com/nl-be/home.html

** In 2009 America I better add that you should 'enjoy responsibly' and not drink and drive, otherwise I suppose I could get the 's' word.

No, not shit.
]]> no@spam.com (Shawn C. Baker) Mon, 26 Oct 2009 00:00:00 EDT http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2089/Hoegaarden.html <![CDATA[Hack ... Slack?]]> http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2081/Hack--Slack.html
Which I'm not complaining about. I've had writer's block for a while until just recently. But now its dead now and I'm feeling pretty good*, so I can relax a bit (or can I???). And this is the month for horror - for catching up on all the new horror flicks I've been wanting to see and re-watch all the older ones I've had on the shelf for years and not watched since buying (sometimes not since the first time).

So what am I gonna do about it?

I've gone through my shelves and chosen a handful of movies that I feel I should watch. What follow's are the why's and wherefore's.

1) I kicked this 'Event' off with Michael Dougherty's TRICK OR TREAT. Hot damn, this is the best Halloween movie since... well maybe ever. I loved everything about it, especially all of the little attention to the details that the filmmakers wrapped around the entire piece, giving the four stories more than just a 'pulp fiction' feel. I love Carpenter's Halloween but it's more of the perfect Slasher flick than Halloween homage. Many others come pretty damn close but T&T was just too good to be true. Dougherty approaches the Eve of All Hallows with the utmost reverence. Nice job mate, can't wait until your next film.

2) Blood Moon. Wow. This is one my good friend Dennis showed me back about six or seven years ago. I went out and bought it immediately afterward. However, I've not watched it since (or at least do not remember doing so) and seeing it again the other night I was completely bowled over by just how 'Autumnal' this film is. October Rust paints the ground of every shot  - the woods are essentially written in as a character and Tim Curry - Jesus man, his presence commands such awe. Great take on the concept of werewolves and some strong Vaudvillian musical numbers to boot. Now if I could just get someone to make a supernatural flick with Curry and Anthony Stewart Head I'd be able to fawn and scream like a thirteen year old girl at a Miley Syrup concert.

3) Next will be Company of Wolves. I remember this one from waaaay back, the image on the cover - a wolf snout coming out of the guy's mouth as he transforms is forever implanted on my brain, as are various indescribable images half-remembered from the episode of Siskel and Ebert when they reviewed this during its initial theatrical run (LOOOOONG time ago folks). This film, along with Dario Argento's Suspiria stick with me as the closest things to fairy tales brought to life that I've seen. And after all that, ANGELA LANSBURY!!! Can't wait.

4) The Ginger Snaps trilogy. Wow. I remember the first time I noticed Ginger Snaps on the video store wall; it looked like one of those cheesy, one-off low budget flicks that you always see at the video store but no one ever actually rents**. Then Dennis had a viewing of it for me and the sequels followed within days. # 2 is my favorite and has one of the greatest 'From-out-of-nowhere' endings - too bad as good as the third one is it does nothing to go forward and complete the original idea (make a fourth -  I need closure damnit!!!). Three is essentially a re-boot, but cool nonetheless.

5) Dagon. One of the best Lovecraft-inspired flicks out there. Some great mood, atmosphere and, despite the bad cg at the climax, pretty damn good. Rainy and creepy.

6) Hatchet. Read so many good things, waited for it to be released for quite some time, watched it once and liked it. But did I love it like I thought I would? I honestly don't really remember so I'll let you know as soon as I get to it (providing I actually do. Werewolves first, fish monsters second, slashers last).

I love Halloween. Maybe I'll even get a chance to dress up this year. Everyone says I should go as Doc Holliday ('I'll be your huckleberry') but honestly, if I get a six shooter in me hand and some whiskey in me veins there's no telling what might happen.

...................

* Shameless self promotion here - while I shop my most recent two novels to prospective agents I am finally re-vamping the first novel I wrote, THEE SUBTLE WAR. I'm doing it as a blog to try and ensure I actually do it. The link is here:

http://theesubtlewar.blogspot.com/

Try it. If You dig add yourself on as a follower and don't be afraid to yell criticisms at me. Much obliged.

** Dark Harvest? Incidentally, if anyone's watched that please hit my forum thread and tell me about it - is it as bad as it looks? Worse? I know it can't be better...
]]> no@spam.com (Shawn C. Baker) Thu, 22 Oct 2009 00:00:00 EDT http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2081/Hack--Slack.html <![CDATA[Here Comes Dudley...]]> http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2084/Here-Comes-Dudley.html
The Chicago show was awesome, but it was outdoors. Even David Yow pointed out how that was a bit out-of-line with what they do. The Lizard are a smaller club band; Venues like their 'home' at the Chicago Metro or the Henry Fonda Music Box in LA is, as Yow put it, are 'more condusive to what they do'.  The Chicago show was about flying home and seeing them with my friends; the guys I spent the 90's with living at places like Lounge Axe and Fireside Bowl (RIP to both). Last night was about seeing the band in their natural environment in my adoptive city.

It was awesome.

A lot has changed in the music scene since the Lizard's heyday. 'Indie rock', at least to me, used to mean something grand. Bands like the Jesus Lizard, Cash Money*, Delta 72, Man or Astro Man. Labels like Touch n Go and Drag City gave homes to blue collar, down and dirty rock n roll bands that toured the awesome, Pabts-soaked smaller market clubs and we all had a good ol' time seeing shows by the above or The Quadrajets, Zen Guerilla, Firewater, etc. Nowadays 'indie' tends to blend with 'emo' and hipster with douche bag. While watching the Lizard I was surrounded by skinny jean stepping, pearl-snap shirt wearing, Bon-Iver beard sporting hipsters too busy thumb-talking on their iphones to pay full attention to the small, sweaty man howling like a burn victim and hurling himself onto the happy moshers at the front of the room** or the muscians behind him turning out some of the most kick ass music ever made. What has happened to the underground?

I don't want to be too harsh to guys touring with one of my favorite bands but a good comparison between the Lizard as 'Then' to something of 'Now' is opening band Model Actress. I'd heard some of their stuff and kinda dug it, but as soon as they hit the stage my interest seriously waned. Five guys; drum, two guitar, two bass (just like Ned's Atomic Dustbin!!! I was so excited) MA made some cool noise but paraded around on stage like scensters and made me question how into it they really were. The bass players especially kinda bugged me***, two probably mid-to-late 30's guys in skinny jeans, banging out all the cliche, stylized stage moves - looking to me like they had practiced in the mirror for hours. The band as a whole had NO stage presence despite their number, especially when compared with the simple four piece of the Lizard who came out afterwards, defined the space they were given perfectly (even while the frontpiece was busy surfing on top of the crowd half the time), dressed well and not giving off the air of desperation for acceptance that their opener did.

When I rant like this I can't help but feel like that grumpy old man character Dana Carvey once played on snl. 'In my day...' - yeah asshole, in your day everything was better. That's not what I'm saying though.

So what are you saying?

I'm saying stop being a douche bag, leave your phone in your pocket and holler like a motherfucker when a good band kicks your ass sonically (or in Yow's case maybe literally, with his cowboy boots as he passes overhead). There's a ton of new, good bands out there, but there's a lot of crap too.

And crap is bad.
]]> no@spam.com (Shawn C. Baker) Mon, 19 Oct 2009 00:00:00 EDT http://chud.com/articles/blogs/2084/Here-Comes-Dudley.html