funnies

Coming 19 June is the Judd Apatow-produced (Pineapple Express, Step Brothers, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Superbad and many more) Year One, starring Jack Black and Michael Cera. The sure-to-be laughfest is directed by Harold Ramis and co-stars David Cross and Paul Rudd as Cain and Abel. Yeah, this is gonna be a good one.

Here's the brand new preview:

sound passengers

Recent albums of interest:

The Twilight Sad - Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters

Brooding rock soaked in reverb, The Twilight Sad construct epic tides of shoegaze that smash against razors and shattered mirrors. James Graham's lyrics paint vivid pictures of memories that cannot be purged and of a tomorrow that's always swollen with apprehension. The Twilight Sad evoke the guitar-and-drum-drenched awe of Sigur Ros and fellow Scottish lads Mogwai, but TTS strain different sensitivities; in lieu of maximizing the apex of a crescendo (as Sigur Ros and Mogwai do so extraordinarily), TTS hit the peak briefly, then come down, as if tempting some incomprehensible fate, only to realize, No, I'm not ready to submerge myself into that chasm.

Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters is the band's debut offering (released in 2007 on Fat Cat Records) and a very solid, consistent record. Earlier this year the band released the compilation Killed
My Parents and Hit the Road. The comp features three covers, "Modern Romance" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs, "Half a Person" by The Smiths, and last but not least "Twenty Four Hours" by Joy Division. The band tours the US with Mogwai beginning 20 April.

That Summer, At Home I Had Become The Invisible Boy - The Twilight Sad

And She Would Darken The Memory - The Twilight Sad

Telefon Tel Aviv - Immolate Yourself

Insulate yourself from everything and lose yourself in the detached and mercurial galaxy of Telefon Tel Aviv's bittersweet final album. The electronic duo of Joshua Eustis and Charles Cooper released this album, which is sure to be one of the finer releases of 2009, in February. One week after its release Cooper's body was discovered, a victim of an apparent suicide. Immolate Yourself's songs don't stand well as solitary figures, but as an album, the songs weave an enchanting and mysterious trail. Think early '80s New Order using 21^st music technology. This is a really good album… a grower.

You Are The Worst Thing In The World - Telefon Tel Aviv

Autechre – Incunabula

The sound: intergalactic protozoa dispersing through unidentified fields of foreign bodies, processed by Rob Brown and Sean Booth, aka Autechre, using various electronic components. Electronic music: changed forever.

444 - Autechre

Nirvana – Nevermind

This album only gets better with time, which is odd because I resented Nevermind in many ways, especially after Kurt Cobain's suicide. Nevermind became Nirvana's antithesis once In Utero hit the world, and even more so post-Cobain. "Smells Like Teen Spirit" forced the front man onto a stage he wasn't prepared for, thanks in large part to MTV, who played the now-iconic video incessantly, and In Utero was a clear retaliation against everything that Nevermind had become. Juxtapose the two albums and the contrasts are striking, especially in regards to production. The sound of Nevermind is clean and pristine, crafted brilliantly by Butch Vig and mixed by Andy Wallace, while In Utero is dirty and abrasive, with Steve Albini masterfully capturing the band's corrosiveness. But in the 18 years since Nevermind's release (18 years!), the context of the album and Nirvana has changed. Time has stripped that album of the pessimism and cynicism that fueled Cobain's descent into In Utero, and when consumed as a classic article of rock music, Nevermind stands as one of those rare, staggering works of precision and perfection.

xx

coming soon: ‘pygmy’ from palahniuk

I know I'm probably the last to the party, but I just discovered Chuck Palahniuk's latest novel, Pygmy, will be hitting book shelves on 05 May 2009 (date subject to change). According to the man himself…

The lead character is a 13-year-old foreign exchange student sent to live with a suburban, white, middle-class family. Oh, and they're Christians. The visit is for six months, and he's one of a dozen similar kids, all shipped to America to live with typical families. The secret truth is that Pygmy is a terrorist, trained since infancy in martial arts, chemistry and radical hatred of the United States. He has six months to build a prize-winning project for the National Science Fair. If he succeeds, he and his project will go to Washington, D.C. for the finals competition -- where the project will explode, killing millions. So far, Gerry Howard says it's the best book I've done. Fingers crossed for luck.

(Gerry Howard is Doubleday's editor-at-large.) I don't know. The plot sounds jacked (wait, it's a Palahniuk novel… please strike that statement from the record), but if any author can make such a story a compelling read it's Chucky P.

xx

fresh cup of bromst

When Dan Deacon's Spiderman of the Rings came out I was pushing 30 and asking the cosmos the big questions: what is the meaning of life? is there life after death? where do babies come from?

But the most challenging question I asked myself was, What the hell does "Spiderman of the Rings" mean? Upon listening to Deacon's "critically acclaimed" Spiderman… I came to one justifiable conclusion: I'm getting too old for this shit.

Or so I thought. Since Spiderman… wrapped across the Web two years ago, a quiet revolution has been brewing in dank basements and shuddered coffee houses across the country. It's like Fight Club, but instead of Yuppie dudes fearful of alienation from the package-and-process system of consumerism, we're a bunch of twentysomethings (OK, some of us are like 30, pushing 31) fearful of looking uncouth because we dare to push against the hipster music machine that is Pitchfork.

The "highly anticipated" follow-up to Spiderman…, Bromst, will be officially birthed on 24 March. Cokemachineglow's Calum Marsh offers this refreshingly honest review of not just the album, but of the act that is Dan Deacon. I don't believe Marsh's review is mean-spirited, because it's not; he's simply offering an objective light and asking questions that many critics and too many music fans don't ask.

Political theorist and literary critic Fredric Jameson classifies postmodernism and postmodern art as essentially schizophrenic. He's not arguing that postmodern artists are literally schizophrenic in any kind of psychologically-classifiable way (in fact he notes that his understanding of schizophrenia is limited and quite possibly mistaken, and I'll just interject right now that I'm in the same boat). For him these artists experience the world in a very specific and unusual way: the "schizophrenic experience," he writes in Postmodernism And Consumer Society, "is an experience of isolated, disconnected, discontinuous material signifiers which fail to link up into a coherent sequence." Enter Dan Deacon and his clusterfuck of a new album, Bromst, a textbook case of Jameson's schizophrenia. Here's what Jameson has to say about the schizophrenic's life: "[It is] by no means a pleasant experience." Uh huh. Same goes for Bromst.

In his review of last year's self-titled Crystal Castles LP, Conrad chastised the band's refusal to flesh songs out past the two minute mark, arguing that "there are plenty of interesting ideas here, but if the Crystal Castles don't seem interested in exploring them, why should we?" Fair enough. But clocking in at well over an hour, Deacon's Bromst suffers from the opposite problem: any interesting ideas are nullified by their exhaustion, any glimmers of brilliance (there are a small few) dulled and darkened by sheer overuse. Consider how most of these songs pass the six minute mark, with its longest hitting over eight. Not to get too caught up in duration alone, but this is a very serious issue with the album. Here we see the often-resourceful Deacon approaching a big canvas with too little paint, and the result is a record which feels bloated, overlong, and ultimately empty.

Put succinctly, Dan Deacon is annoying as fuck. Spiderman ex-pats will recall that record's what-the-fuck opening track, "Woody Woodpecker," maybe the most off-putting album opener since Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (2005). There are about five moments on Bromst that are considerably more irritating than "Woody," most notably the grating dentist drill at the beginning of "Red F" and pretty much all of "Wet Wings." When the album reaches these moments I find it very difficult to restrain myself from changing that 49% above to a straight-up zero, but mercifully they're infrequent and brief. Still, I'm full of questions: why even do this annoying shit? Doesn't this guy have his masters in music theory or something? Does it matter? Is it possible that his formal education is cited by critics as a way of legitimizing bad records? What, really, does all of this bio-regurgitating context—his formal training, his Baltimore roots, the Wham City scene and his role within it—tell us about Dan Deacon's music? How can it possibly explain why Bromst just isn't a good record?

Here's a funny and telling anecdote: I used to promote shows pretty regularly, and at one point I agreed to a show with Dan Deacon—had it confirmed, ready to go, everything. Then, about two weeks before the date of the show, I got an email from his booking agent telling me Dan wouldn't be playing any of his Canadian dates "due to ID issues." A few weeks later, I was talking to the band Parts & Labor after a show I'd put on for them and Dan Deacon's name came up—apparently they were friends with him. I mentioned that I'd had this show booked with him but that it was canceled due to these ambiguous ID issues. "ID issues?" the Parts & Labor guys exclaimed, "Dan Deacon doesn't have ID. Dude lives off the grid." Huh.

I think this says a lot about Dan Deacon and his confounding rise to indie fame. Here's a guy who apparently "lives off the grid," whatever that means, and suddenly he's signed to a successful booking agency and has people from record labels, publicity groups, and so on all working for him, expecting him to go on a proper, legitimate tour like a regular musician. Imagine him explaining to his booking agency that he can't file for a work permit to play in Canada because he "lives off the grid."

A year later Dan Deacon plays Canada and elsewhere sans problems. He probably pays taxes. He's back on the grid. Are to we believe that maybe Dan Deacon has reigned in his wackiness and tamed his eccentricities in favor of regularity and a normal music career? Well, no: Bromst is exactly as goofy and messy and totally bizarre as Spiderman Of The Rings or anything that came before it. I guess he's still crazy. Which, to get back to Bromst, is maybe the problem: Deacon's always so busy trying to cram everything in that he's never able to keep it all together. Take "Woof Woof," distant cousin of Spiderman's "Crystal Cat," at once this record's best and worst track: an infectious vocal melody and catchy guitar line are completely obfuscated by the twenty-five other layers blaring or nattering on in the fore- and background at all times, preventing what could have been a successful foray into Animal Collective territory.

Speaking of "Woof Woof," here's one last gripe: Dan Deacon needs to stop modifying his vocal tracks. The whiny alter-ego which pops up here and elsewhere—you may recall that it nearly ruined "The Crystal Cat" and others back on Spiderman—is the most fucking annoying thing ever. At its best this voice is abrasive; at its worst it is distressingly similar to Crazy Frog. Despite it "Crystal Cat" remains a very good song, but I maintain its success was a fluke. That track's success hinged on its pop sensibility, which is to say that it was well-structured and didn't get out of control. Unfortunately, this side of Deacon—a side with a sense of brevity, control, and order—appears nowhere on Bromst.

Pitchfork's Jess Harvell (who, surprise surprise, totally loved the album) wrote in his Spiderman… review that "Deacon wants you to join him in adding silly joy to a world that's been feeling pretty drab."

If Deacon is Planet Earth's Ambassador of Silly Joy I have just one request. More drabness, please.

xx

short: bathing in light

those were the days

(Please note, this video is NSFW.)

bank on breaking bad

Thanks to last night's AMC marathon of Breaking Bad's inaugural season, I'm hooked -- and in the worst way. Previous to last night, my only must-see TV program was MSNBC's Hardball with Chris Mathews, but now I'll have to add Breaking Bad to that very short list.

Breaking Bad brings it: brilliant writing, sharp acting and deft cinematography. An episode shouldn't be viewed through the context of the typical television drama; each episode is a short film. (Episode Six, "Crazy Handful of Nothin,'" was the most intense television viewing experience I've ever had.)

The second season of Breaking Bad begins tomorrow night on AMC. (The first season is currently available on most cable sytems via On Demand.)

- L - I - N - K - S -

Breaking Bad on AMC (plenty of cool vids, downloads and more)

Breaking Bad on IMDB

when times get tough, hit the highway... the information superhighway

Site: www.PimpThisBum.com

xx

keep your receipt

Look, I will be the last insufferable bastard in the blogosphere to offer a solution to the foreclosure crisis in America, but I'm tired of the GOP and certain media personalities (most notably, CNBC's Joe Kernan, Michelle Caruso-Cabrera and Rick Santelli [and his bond-trading lemmings on the floor]) criticizing President Obama's foreclosure-prevention plan. Where was their honorable outrage in October 2008 when the carnival kicked off with the $700 billion bailout of the American financial system?

Oh, and in case you missed it, earlier this week our government bailed out AIG for the FOURTH time with a check for $30 billion – the mega insurer has received over $170 billion from Uncle Sam.

And don't forget General Motors. It has received nearly $14 billion and more is on the way. Last month the corporation asked for $16.6 billion and last week it reported a loss of $31 billion in 2008. "Please, sir, may I have some more?"

Don't forget Citigroup. And Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac.

But when President Obama proposes a bailout that will directly impact the average, Main Street American that these CNBC schmucks constantly discuss (but do you really think these talking heads know anyone like you or me?), it's a travesty, a moral hazard. Give me a fucking break.

Look, this country finds itself on the cusp of the abyss because we the people entrusted (as if we had a choice) a mass collection of elected officials and Ivy League-educated CEOs to do one simple thing: the right thing. And guess what? They didn't do it, so now you, your mother, your father, your neighbor and millions of people you will never meet are paying the price for their ineptitude. What is their punishment? The bastards pick your pocket and call it a "bailout." What a fucking joke.

President Obama's $75 billion foreclosure plan will help as many as 9 million Americans stay in their homes by allowing them to rework their mortgages into more affordable monthly payments.

Only in America – Capitalism's shining beacon – is a plan to help millions of Main Street Americans keep their homes viewed as junk legislation, while trillions of dollars in corporate bailouts isn't seen as optional, but necessary, vital to the function of not just our economy, but the global economy.

God ble$$ America.

xx

Now, watch this great piece of tragic comedy from The Daily Show.

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

CNBC Gives Financial Advice

Daily Show Full Episodes
Important Things With Demetri Martin

Political Humor
Joke of the Day

god is in the chemicals

When I discovered the 23 February 2009 issue of Time magazine in my mailbox I was seething with skepticism. Plastered across the cover was the profile of a middle-aged white woman, eyes closed and hands clasped together. Why the hell is an evil, liberal publication such as Time dedicating a double issue to religion, mind and body, which features the cover story "How Faith Can Heal"? Shouldn't this publication be spending its time and effort furthering the dastardly Socialist agenda of the Barack Hussein (his middle name is Hussein, were you aware of that!) Obama Administration?

Of course I'm kidding. The cover story is actually comprised of four pieces. The main article, "The Biology of Belief," (written by Jeffrey Kluger and located here at the Time site) was thoroughly researched and chock full of intriguing data. Kluger attempts to reconcile the gap between science and religion by presenting some university studies that suggests faith contributes to a longer, healthier life.

• Prayer or meditation permanently changes the brain; "long-term meditators appear to have thicker frontal lobes … people who describe themselves as highly spiritual tend to exhibit an asymmetry in the thalamus. And better-functioning frontal lobes help boost memory."
  
• "Social demographer Robert Hummer of the University of Texas has been following a population of subjects since 1992. Those who never attend religious services have twice the risk of dying over the next eight years as people who attend once a week. People who fall somewhere between no churchgoing and weekly churchgoing also fall somewhere between in terms of mortality."
  
• "Daniel Hall, an Episcopal priest and a surgeon at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center, found that church attendance accounts for two to three additional years of life."
  
• "Neal Krause, a sociologist and public-health expert at the University of Michigan, [has been studying] 1,500 people … since 1997. He has focused particularly on how regular churchgoers weather economic downturns as well as the stresses and health woes that go along with them. Not surprisingly, he has found that parishioners benefit when they receive social support from their church. But he has also found that those people who give help fare even better than those who receive it — a pillar of religious belief if ever there was one. He has also found that people who maintain a sense of gratitude for what's going right in their lives have a reduced incidence of depression, which is itself a predictor of health. And in another study he conducted that was just accepted for publication, he found that people who believe their lives have meaning live longer than people who don't."
  

As I read these data, I asked myself a series of questions: Do you want a life that is less stressful? Yes. Do you want a healthier, longer life? Yes. Do you believe in god? Mmmm, no. But all you have to do is roll the dice, pass Go and collect $200! Yeah, but I think faith requires more than a simple nod and a "Yep, I'm down with that."

See, I don't have a beef with god. I don't. And it's not an ego thing; I'm not trying to compensate for my shortcomings. I simply find the existence of god illogical. And it's not as if I haven't been down that spiritual path. I have experienced enough "spiritual awakenings" for a couple lifetimes, some of which have occurred since this blog's inception (and, duh, of course I blogged about 'em). But those "awakenings" fizzled, which is odd, because when you are enraptured in that kind of supernatural reality, everything feels permanent and ecstatic, and you feel as though you have reached an inescapable plateau, you've acquired infinite knowledge that has changed your life forever.

But it won't.

(And before I proceed, I'm not one of those haughty atheists who espouses his poignant knowledge to the willing and unwilling alike. Largely, I respect people of faith; however, the very faith that allows some to love all allows others to condemn "sinners.")

So is god at work? Is god blessing congregations across the fruited plain with health and peace? No. It is my opinion that many of the curious discrepancies between churchgoers and heretics can be explained not by something that defies science and logic, but by a fundamental medical fact: the placebo effect. Healing can be facilitated by creating a belief in the possibility of being healed. Consider this: in "The Biology of Belief," Dr. Andrew Newberg, a professor of radiology, psychology and religious studies at the University of Pennsylvania, "describes a cancer patient whose tumors shrank when he was given an experimental drug, grew back when he learned that the drug was ineffective in other patients and shrank again when his doctor administered sterile water but said it was a more powerful version of the medication. The U.S. Food and Drug Administration ultimately declared the drug ineffective, and the patient died."

And this case is not extraordinary. Placebos play a crucial role in medical studies and, most significantly, illustrate the brain's function in physical and mental health. Granted it is not the most reliable source, but I encourage you to at least check out (if you are interested, of course) the Wiki entry for placebo – it's a great starting point for a most fascinating topic.

"The placebo is dead! Long live the placebo!"

xx

present

Yes, the_sky_is_a_television_signal is still broadcasting. I've been bombarded with work and school assignments, and, unfortunately, this has impacted my blogging presence. However, I am recommitting myself to my corner of the blogosphere, so look for more frequent updates.

Also, I know people are visiting my blog, so please leave a comment. I love it when people stimulate my blog! (The comment link is found at the bottom of each post, and I do allow anonymous comments, so you don't have to be a member of the Blogger community to leave me a word.)

xx

in case you missed it

From last Sunday night at the Grammys, Radiohead (Thom and Jonny) perform "15 Step" with the USC Marching Band. Radiohead won two Grammys (Best Alternative Album and Best Boxed or Special Limited Edition Package, which was awarded to Stanley Donwood, Mel Maxwell and Christiaan Munro).

off a clifff

Watching Morning Joe on MSNBC and saw one of the more frightening graphs relating to the current recession and the two previous recessions. Scary stuff.

get the advantage – the rural alberta advantage!

It's been a long time since I discovered a band that I so eagerly wanted to share with literally anyone and everyone. So, without further ado…

The Rural Alberta Advantage are an indie rock band from Alberta, Canada, and their debut album, Hometowns, is fantastic. In fact, every time I listen to Hometowns I'm reminded of the boundless sensibilities that drew me to indie music over ten years ago. Yeah, it's that good.

I discovered the Rural Alberta Advantage through eMusic. eMusic is an online music subscription service, consider it the iTunes of indie music. Anyway, the RAA were introduced to their largest audience to date through the eMusic Selects series in November of last year. This series gives eMusic subscribers exclusive music from unsigned artists, and the RAA were introduced, fortunately or unfortunately, with the following five words: "In an aeroplane over Alberta…" The die was cast.

The RAA are not Neutral Milk Hotel, and any comparisons to Jeff Mangum's vehicle are ridiculous. First, no band will ever crawl this earth and approach Neutral Milk's OR Mangum's shadow – and any man or band dumb enough to attempt will be properly mocked and spat upon. (And this is the beauty of the Neutral Milk Hotel vacuum: like the Big Bang, fate brought together a finite collection of combustible forces, something magical happened, and it won't happen again – at least not in our lifetime.) Second, the RAA sound nothing like NMH. Some people hear shades of Mangum in RAA lead singer Nils Edenloff's voice. I disagree. I hear Billy Corgan. Others hear that psychedelic folk rumbling in some of the up-tempo tunes. No, but I will admit that, to the amateur listener, he might hear some similarities, but after a few listens, the songs shake free and take on a life of their own.

No doubt, the souls of many bands pulse throughout the stream of this record, but this is the RAA's debut record! (Ever heard of that one band, Radiohead? Yeah, listen to Pablo Honey and tell me it's the most original piece of work you've ever heard.) The album bounces with the joyful groove of the Shins; some songs rip and tear with the agonizing beauty of early Smashing Pumpkins; and other tunes burn with a fire-and-brimstone passion ala Arcade Fire. But make no mistake, this album is much greater than the sum of its parts. I'm in love with the entire album, so reviewing individual tracks seems rather pointless; however, below you will find three songs from the album. "The Deadroads," "Drain the Blood," and "Luciana" occur consecutively during the heart of the album (tracks five, six and seven, respectively) and bridge the beginning and end of the record marvelously. These three songs alone make a trip to Hometowns unforgettable.

xx

As I mentioned earlier, the RAA are currently unsigned, so if you like what you hear PLEASE BUY THE ALBUM FROM THE BAND. The album can be purchased from their website or downloaded from eMusic.

L – I – N – K – S

MySpace

The Rural Alberta Advantage site

eMusic

The Deadroads - The Rural Alberta Advantage

Drain The Blood - The Rural Alberta Advantage

Luciana - The Rural Alberta Advantage

o how i love the interwebs!

The World Wide Web has revolutionized the news cycle and, more broadly, how all information is disseminated. The latter point was made perfectly clear when, two days ago, an audio recording of Christian Bale was leaked to gossip site TMZ. The recording, WHICH YOU CAN ACCESS HERE, features Bale ripping (to put it mildly) the director of photography of Terminator Salvation (which I did not even know was a film until this .mp3 hit the 'net) for distracting the actor during a scene. It's certainly an entertaining listen! (According to TMZ, the film's executives feared Bale would quit the film – he threatened to do so in the recording – and provided the tape to the company that insured the film, hence the .mp3's existence.)

In interweb time, two days is an eternity. The Bale fiasco has spawned a song – a dance remix titled "Bale Out" by some douche who calls himself RevoLucian. (This "music producer" makes shitty techno songs that center around sound bites from various media figures. Only on the interwebs. HIS MYSPACE AND "BALE OUT" ARE HERE.) And a YouTube mash-up video has emerged from the Bale tirade – it's Christian B. versus the infamous Bill O'Reilly "Inside Edition" meltdown.

And don't forget the officially unofficial Christian Bale tee!

O how I love the interwebs!