Media Experts Who Appreciate Supergroups
Just got out of a fun meeting with
Sam Whitmore from Media Survey. Sam was nice enough, as we are planning a future series of events, to bring up the example of supergroups. As he defined it, people from different perspectives (musical) come together and are able to create something cool.
Crosby, Stills & Nash
Velvet Revolver
Damn Yankees
Asia
Blind Faith
Powerstation
Bad English
'
Then again, when looking at the above list, sometimes these collaborations stink but we are still going through with our events.
P.S. Thanks for the help Adam!
What?
Today I was reading Boston.com and I saw that Peta had a poll for the
World's Sexiest Vegetarians. Puh-lease. Do they really need a poll for that?
Prince? Sexy? I can see Kristen Bell but Prince?!? There are so many other better choices (in my opinon) but Prince won. It was fixed. I'm not even going to say who I think should have won. I'll leave that up to you.
Best romantic moments on the big screen
And no, I am not talking about sex scenes. I am talking about what are the best scenes leading up to them. It has to be subtle. It has to be a moment that a woman can see and say "O, that is how I want a romantic encounter to happen" and a man can say "whoa nellie, that was hot."
So I did an informal survey, and here are the scenes that came out in the top 5.
1) Rosanne Arquette and Tom Cruise first meeting in Risky Business. You remember the scene by the window where the breeze blows in. Whoa.
2) Some Like It Hot. Tony Curtis and Marilyn Monroe. Boat scene.
3) Diane Lane and whatshisname in Unfaithful. You know the scene I am talking about. Great scene.
4) Okay, this one is for Sarah. Apparently the Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Gray scene in Dirty Dancing was hot. Something about a cabin. I don't know. All I know is that both Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Gray were in Red Dawn and they both kick lots of butt. They rule! Wolverines!
5) And the top best in the mood scenes: Mrs. Robinson, are you seducing me? The Graduate.
These results were chosen by me through no scientific or official polling. If you disagree with any of these, you are wrong.
How did American pseudo Idols find me?
KARAOKE = Empty Orchestra
As some of you know, I'm allergic to Karaoke. My main gripe (besides for the utter lack of talent by the folks who take it seriously) is the extensive song lists never include punk rock: The Sex Pistols, White Stripes, Minutemen or even "Radio Ga Ga" (how cool would the hand claps be a la Wembley in a small dive bar?). So I was amazed to get on the Worcester Centrum's (DCU Center?) spam e-mail list last week for pre-sale tickets to American Idols Live Tour 2006. While I love the product sponsorship of Pop*Tarts, I'll be skipping this tour.
Yikes, $37.25 - $71.25 to see way too many useless Karaoke singers.
P.S. Brief history lesson: Karaoke dates back to the 1970s - we have Japanese audio freak
Inoue Daisuke to blame for the invention, but other nameless, heartless souls profited from his legacy and technology. So, I eastimate that since that time, there have probably been 2.5 million active Karaoke machines, and probably 2.5 billion people who have done shots of various liquors and decided to try this. As mentioned, there are also the scary people who think they are good at this and might be famous.
So a rhetorical question, bloggers and lurkers, in the history of Karaoke, has anyone become Almost Famous or even made a recording as good as "Dirty" or "Don't Stop til You Get Enough."
Books from my childhood
I recently bought two books on Amazon.com that I loved dearly when I was a kid.
1. "Superweasel"
The adventures of a grade-school-aged eco warrior. When I got the book in the mail last week (.65 for the book, $4 for shipping) the drawings inside brought me right back to sixth grade, for better or worse.
2. "Are You There, God, It's Me, Margaret"
Why on earth I chose to read this Judy Blume girl-comes-of-age story when I was ten is beyond me, but I loved it. And I learned a lot.
Now I'm reading two books. One is "The End of Time," by Julian Barbor. Theoretical physics--time is an illusion, folks. The other is”Here, There and Everywhere, My Life Recording the Music of the Beatles," by Geoff Emerick. The Beatles engineer from "Revolver" on spills the beans. It's part audio-geek tome--compression levels and such--and part gossip rag. John Lennon was mean! Paul McCartney was obsessed with details! Ringo was a moron!
I'm looking forward to rereading the two books from my youth, though.
Poseidon: "There's nothing fair about who lives and who dies."
Last night I was treated by a colleague to a pre-screening of
Poseidon. As promised in the trailer, there was death, destruction, horrible dialogue and a whole bunch of white people. Below are a few of my thoughts.
N.B. While I have never seen the original
The Poseidon Adventure, Adam, a contributor to this post, claims "There's got to be a morning after" is far superior to ferocious "Won't Let You Fall". However the fact that several people die from gruesome falls off of Richard Dreyfuss's legs (the first being premeditated homicide), actually provides added meaning to Fergie's lovely, busty rendition. The other obvious flaw in comparison to the spectacular original film is the lack of the sympathetic, rotund Shelley Winters.
Because I have never seen original film, my comments hold no comparison to
The Poseidon Adventure and only reflect the campy joy that is Poseidon.
Best Death Scene:
Marco ValentinA close call between Valentin and the death of Lucky Larry but Valentin's death wins simply because it was directly caused by another character and not by the ship's random destruction/vengeance.
Marco Valentin, one of two minority characters in our band of heroes (both die, don't worry. This movie is a pure "follow-the-white-guy" kind of film), is the Hispanic waiter/porter/servant who the Heroes (Dylan Jones and Robert Ramsey) recruit as a map to get around the ship. As they begin their journey, the group encounters an elevator shaft complimented by a growing fireball over their heads preparing the jammed elevator to act as a giant projectile and a nice pointy shard of metal at the bottom, begging to impale someone. In an attempt to navigate across a service elevator shaft, Valentin slips and is forced to cling to Richard Nelson's legs (an older gay gentleman who precisely two minutes earlier was making eyes at him) to save his life. Our Heroes grab Richard's hands but the inevitable slipping of the fingers ensues as Valentin's weight drags both of them closer and closer to death. Upon our Hero's urging, Richard tries desperately to shake Valentin off and eventually is forced to kick the poor lad in the face. This frees our poor Valentine to plummet down the elevator shaft to the awaiting pointy shard of metal, complete with a squishy thud noise. Just to make sure our Latino friend is dead, Richard is pulled up into the doorway just in time to miss the fireball/elevator as it zooms down and crushes/incinerates tragic Mr.. Valentin.
Worst Death Scene:
Elena Gonzalez
In keeping with the kill-the-Latinos theme, Elena was destined to die as soon as we met her on screen. Elena, a sympathetic if whiney character made it through the elevator shaft, up the air conditioning vent and through the first and second pressure valve only to get her skirt caught on a bunch of electrical wires while swimming and bump her head struggling to get untangled. Our dear old Richard, fresh from his responsibility in the death of Valentine, swims back to Elena's rescue and drags her limp body back to the group. 5 seconds of CPR and one or two shed tears, Elena's anti-climactic death scene was over and she was left to float away with the rest of the dead bodies on the boat. The moral of this story: While attempting to escape a massive catastrophe on a cruise ship with a group of people, make sure you stay as far away from the gay guy as possible.
Best Product Placement:
Mountain DewAs our group finds what they think is their only option of escape to be under water, they take a nice little rest in what looks like a staff lounge. Furniture and miscellaneous bodies strewn about, the group relaxes around a Mountain Dew vending machine, munching on potato chips and snacks as they ponder their impending and seemingly inevitable doom. This siesta is interrupted by a few explosions and the boat shifts, sending the furniture, snacks and even the vending machine hurtling around the room trying to smush our beloved heroes. Kudos to Mountain Dew for not only the product placement but also allowing their product to try to kill the main characters. Mmm, I'm thirsty.
A Dream Band
Someone sent me this picture yesterday (my love of Stars Wars really shines through here) so this morning I hung it up in my cubicle.
Then a few of us came up with real life musical artists to match the Star Wars characters. They include:
- Darth Vader: David Lee Roth. He wears funky leather. Our first guess was Rob Halford but I personally think David Lee Roth is a better choice base on what Darth Vader is doing in this picture. He's outlandish just like DLR.
- Chewbacca: Tommy Lee. One of the strangest modern-rock drummers.
- Luke Skywalker: Tommy Shaw. It's the hair.
- Han Solo: Ted Nugent. He'd kick all of our butts from here to Tattooine.
- C3PO: Dennis DeYoung. Mr. Roboto. Need I say more?
- R2D2: He's like the Stonehenge in Spinal Tap.
I'm making one addition: Princess Leia (in the slave outfit) is like the backup singer in any Motley Crue video.
How do you discover new music?
When I was a young whippersnapper I was so on top of the music scene I knew about bands before they even formed. Really. I was sick of many bands’ music before they even recorded an “album.” I think it had something to do with quantum mechanics—that or all the free time I used to enjoy. Music just seemed to swirl around me, an ether of sound that connected my three-pound universe to the rest of creation. Or so it felt when I was 16.
Now catching up on the latest bands requires work, an unavoidable byproduct of growing older, I assume, but I have discovered a shortcut: stores.
About a year ago I was in some girls’ clothing store in Coolidge Corner with my then girlfriend. I staked out a seat near the window and went into my usual daze while she tried on jeans that all looked the same. After a while I realized I liked the song I heard playing. It was synth-driven, but it had a good attitude, a singer with a sneer and a few punchy guitars here and there. I liked the next song, too, which was obviously by the same group. I went over to the girl behind the counter and asked her who was playing. “They’re called Kasabian,” she said. “They’re from England.” A new discovery.
Another time I found myself dazed in some crafts store in Cambridge, and sure enough, I realized I loved the songs I was hearing. “The group is called Tegan and Sarah,” the girl behind the register told me. “They’re sisters from Canada.” Sisters? From Canada? Sold.
I’m not sure how unhip it is to discover new music in retail outlets, but I love both of those bands. So the next time you’re shopping or waiting for someone to finish, keep your ears open.
Bow down to Slayer - Big 666 shoutout to all ye playas
Often, no words or boring narrative are needed in a blog post. For your devil worshipping tendencies, I present:
National Day of Slayer!
Again, please bookmark
this site now or at least before 6/6/06:
P.S. Thanks to
Dizzy DJ John Straub with this hot as hell tip!
