The same year that took David Bowie has now robbed us of Prince. I don't know if these two musicians were associated in life, but I think that death will now link them forever in the memories of music fans, and I think to some extent that's a fair thing. Like Bowie, Prince seemed to have something of the trickster about him, endlessly reinventing himself as well as his music almost as a kind of game. In fact, it could be argued that Prince took the game further than Bowie ever did--Ziggy Stardust was a persona, but Prince was willing at times to shed himself entirely like an old skin.
Prince was also one of those musicians who I always think of as an artist's artist--certainly he had his share of hits for the general public, but it always seemed to me even when he was alive that his greatest legacy would be the way he inspired other songwriters. He always seemed to be so advanced, pioneering whole new ways of thinking about music that others picked up on and worked into their own acts. I think he left a legacy that has forever transformed music.
I suspect he'll also be remembered mostly for that music--by most accounts he was a private, troubled and difficult individual who mostly preferred to keep the spotlight on his work. Even when he did let it shine on himself, it was Prince the persona and not Prince the person who became the focus of attention. For most, the fiction presented by 'Purple Rain' will become the man. That's not such a bad way to be preserved.
Like Bowie, he was someone who died too soon simply because time is not long enough to allow a genius to create. And I'd really like 2016 to stop this now, thanks.
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Thursday, April 21, 2016
Monday, January 11, 2016
The Planet Earth Is Blue (And There's Nothing We Can Do)
I got to work this morning to find out David Bowie passed away. It was a strange feeling to learn that, like something of immense and indefinable value had been stolen in the night. I don't think that we'll ever be able to appreciate the magnitude of this loss, even those who were tremendous fans or those who were close to him personally, because one of the monumental achievements of Bowie's life and career was that he saw things that were invisible to the universe until he revealed them.
As such, I'm not really sure you can quantify the impact of his life and work. He created strange and wonderful things, ideas that inspired the people who inspire the rest of us. He found different ways of thinking about art, about life, about fame and the artifacts of culture that rise up around the people who dream for a living. I can imagine a few of the mysterious connections between the world we live in and the man who just passed out of our life--could Steven Colbert have existed without Ziggy Stardust? How many fantasy writers were touched by strangeness for the first time by the Goblin King? But I can't say that I see them all. He's too big for that.
And so I wish he had more time. Because I cannot imagine what five more years, one more year, even six more months of Bowie would have given us. I cannot imagine how he could have transformed the world all over again in that span, because he was rarer than a genius. He was, in his own way, a magician in the truest sense of the world, someone who changed reality with his thoughts and his words and his music, and even the geniuses he inspired cannot perform his magic.
David Bowie is gone, and that is a sad thing even if the world he helped make is wonderful.
As such, I'm not really sure you can quantify the impact of his life and work. He created strange and wonderful things, ideas that inspired the people who inspire the rest of us. He found different ways of thinking about art, about life, about fame and the artifacts of culture that rise up around the people who dream for a living. I can imagine a few of the mysterious connections between the world we live in and the man who just passed out of our life--could Steven Colbert have existed without Ziggy Stardust? How many fantasy writers were touched by strangeness for the first time by the Goblin King? But I can't say that I see them all. He's too big for that.
And so I wish he had more time. Because I cannot imagine what five more years, one more year, even six more months of Bowie would have given us. I cannot imagine how he could have transformed the world all over again in that span, because he was rarer than a genius. He was, in his own way, a magician in the truest sense of the world, someone who changed reality with his thoughts and his words and his music, and even the geniuses he inspired cannot perform his magic.
David Bowie is gone, and that is a sad thing even if the world he helped make is wonderful.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Conundrums for the Ages
How exactly does one reconcile writing, "I don't wast time on the mike with a dope rhyme" in the same song as "I'm just a squirrel, tryin' ta get a nut/to move your butt/to the dance floor"? I don't think I will ever understand this.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Breaking the Silence
OK, I'll admit, posting's been pretty light lately, but I just have to get this off my chest.
So Rod Stewart is presenting us, the listening audience, with a hypothetical scenario that IF "[we] want [his] body" AND "[we] think [he's] sexy" THEN "come on sugar, let [him] know". This, by its very nature, presupposes alternative scenarios under which we might want Rod Stewart's body while not, in any way, finding him sexy. And Rod Stewart is advising us that, should such a set of circumstances arise, he in no way, shape or form wishes to be informed.
WHY? Setting aside whether this is a likely event, why is Rod Stewart so worried about it? Is he convinced that someone who wants his body without being sexually aroused by it is likely to have intimacy issues in other areas, and he's trying to avoid such a relationship? Does he generally want to steer clear of loveless sex, finding it to be joyless and mechanical? Or is he possibly hinting at other, darker implications to the phrase "want my body"? Could he have fears of black-market organ-traffickers targeting him for their sinister schemes, or perhaps warding off demonic possession through the use of up-tempo music? I can no longer stand not knowing. I need answers, and maybe one of you can help.
(And before anyone brings it up, yes, I'm aware that there's also a potentially-implied scenario under which the listener might find Rod Stewart sexy but not want his body. This seems pretty self-explanatory to me, so I won't discuss it further here.)
So Rod Stewart is presenting us, the listening audience, with a hypothetical scenario that IF "[we] want [his] body" AND "[we] think [he's] sexy" THEN "come on sugar, let [him] know". This, by its very nature, presupposes alternative scenarios under which we might want Rod Stewart's body while not, in any way, finding him sexy. And Rod Stewart is advising us that, should such a set of circumstances arise, he in no way, shape or form wishes to be informed.
WHY? Setting aside whether this is a likely event, why is Rod Stewart so worried about it? Is he convinced that someone who wants his body without being sexually aroused by it is likely to have intimacy issues in other areas, and he's trying to avoid such a relationship? Does he generally want to steer clear of loveless sex, finding it to be joyless and mechanical? Or is he possibly hinting at other, darker implications to the phrase "want my body"? Could he have fears of black-market organ-traffickers targeting him for their sinister schemes, or perhaps warding off demonic possession through the use of up-tempo music? I can no longer stand not knowing. I need answers, and maybe one of you can help.
(And before anyone brings it up, yes, I'm aware that there's also a potentially-implied scenario under which the listener might find Rod Stewart sexy but not want his body. This seems pretty self-explanatory to me, so I won't discuss it further here.)
Monday, December 09, 2013
Review...ish: The Apple
For the first two minutes, 1980 musical 'The Apple' is perfect. It opens with letter-perfect and savagely incisive parody of a glam-rock stadium concert; the act is Pandi and Dandi, but they could just as easily be the Bay City Rollers or any one of a dozen Iggy Pop/David Bowie wannabes out of the late Seventies. Their anthem, 'BIM's On the Way', is a perfect evocation of the way major record labels repackage independence and rebellion into product--it's a brainlessly catchy tune that seems to have no other purpose but to laud the very same label that endlessly promotes the musicians singing it. ("BIM" is a stab at BMI, a gag I didn't even notice until it was pointed out to me.)
And yet, underneath the empty-headed vapidity of its lyrics, there's a sort of soul-crushing deadness to the lyrics...Pandi and Dandi might sound like a glam-rock version of any number of studio-hyped groups, but their song carries the explicit message that there is no good, no evil, no joy, no shame, nothing but power and the will to use it. And BIM has that power...and by extension, is the only thing worth your adoration. It is, in short, nihilism given a catchy beat and a clever call-and-response bit that invites the audience to join right in with the death of society. ("Be!" "I am!" So's Darkseid, buddy.)
Then people start talking, and that's about when the movie goes downhill. Because 'The Apple' is supposed to be an audacious glam-rock musical bookend to 'Jesus Christ Superstar', telling the story of the Book of Revelations in the same counter-culture rock-and-roll terms that it assumes its audience grooves on--while simultaneously being a scathing indictment of the music industry and the way it grinds up individualism and talent and turns it into pop-culture pablum. That's the goal, and it's actually an impressively lofty one. But...
Setting aside the second musical number, which is supposed to be a welcome antidote to the soulless glam and instead comes off as a schmaltzy salute to the Osmonds...and setting aside all the other musical numbers as well, which seem to have been written according to the well known songwriting technique of, "Sod it, at least it rhymes"...actually, I can't set that aside completely. One couplet goes, "It's a natural, natural, natural desire/to meet an actual, actual, actual vampire." This is not a vampire story. This is not even a story with vampires in it. This is a story where a vampire pops up into shot for three seconds as Dandi sings the above couplet, and then is never seen again for the remainder of the film. I'm not a professional songwriter, but I think that might be a sign that you should rethink your lyrics.
But reluctantly setting the music's flaws aside, the story doesn't do what it's trying to do. Mister Boogalow is woefully miscast and misdirected. He should be kind and warm and friendly and exactly the last person you'd expect to be the Anti-Christ; Alphie should be torn by self-doubt and indecision for breaking up with his beloved Bibi and giving in to his hallucinogenic visions of doom and disaster if he signs on with BIM. ("BIM" = "Boogalow International Management".) But instead, he's a sinister smirker with a goatee and a Russian accent. He couldn't be more obviously evil if he had horns. Which he does, in some scenes...well, horn. Not sure what happened to the other one. Maybe there was a wardrobe malfunction.
With Boogalow obviously evil, Bibi looks stupid for signing on with him. Her journey through the highs of becoming a superstar to the lows of personal destruction and drug abuse, on to her final personal transformation and reconciliation with Alphie, basically just becomes a waiting game for the bimbo to realize what the audience figured out 87 minutes ago.
It doesn't help that the film is catastrophically unsubtle. Don't get me wrong, I understand that a glam-rock Rapture is not the place for subtlety. But that's the wonderful thing about a musical; people get to openly sing about their emotions in big music numbers, getting all that subtext out of the way in a song so that they can be subtle in the actual story. Bibi's getting ready to sign a contract, but she has doubts...so have Boogalow and Dandi sing a song about temptation likening the contract to Eve's Apple. It's unsubtle, sure...but it's the right kind of unsubtle. As it is, Alphie has a hallucination where Bibi is literally presented with a giant prop apple while standing on a set that evokes a downright Ed Wood-ian vision of Dante's Inferno, precisely so that Dandi can sing a song about how she should take a bite of the giant prop apple. The song was already metaphor enough without turning the costumes, set decoration, and dialogue into a walking literalist extension of it.
The film's pacing also has issues. Far too much of the film is spent on Alphie moping over Bibi and Bibi pining over Alphie (while sleeping with other people and taking copious amounts of drugs). The actual plot, such as it is, sort of hovers around in the background trying not to intrude. There are a few scenes where Mister Boogalow's marketing gimmick of a "BIM Mark" goes from being a trendy fashion accessory to a mandatory identification badge, and one where BIM's dancercise show becomes mandatory for every American, but these are so abrupt and unmotivated that the allegory fails. It's now less an allegory, and more some guy wandering past the movie and mentioning, "It's all about Satan, by the way," when he thinks the A-plot isn't looking.
The conclusion, in which "Mister Topps" shows up to spirit Alphie and Bibi away to a new world in his pimped-out Caddy (if this movie does nothing else, it teaches us exactly which machina the deus exes from) is just as abrupt as all the other things that happen. In trying to give us both a savage expose of major record labels and a trippy rockpocalypse, the film really succeeds at neither. But I have to admit, there's just enough of a glimpse of what the film could have been that I can't help but love it a little. It fails miserably at everything it tries...but it tries at something. I don't think there's a single Michael Bay film I could say that about.
And yet, underneath the empty-headed vapidity of its lyrics, there's a sort of soul-crushing deadness to the lyrics...Pandi and Dandi might sound like a glam-rock version of any number of studio-hyped groups, but their song carries the explicit message that there is no good, no evil, no joy, no shame, nothing but power and the will to use it. And BIM has that power...and by extension, is the only thing worth your adoration. It is, in short, nihilism given a catchy beat and a clever call-and-response bit that invites the audience to join right in with the death of society. ("Be!" "I am!" So's Darkseid, buddy.)
Then people start talking, and that's about when the movie goes downhill. Because 'The Apple' is supposed to be an audacious glam-rock musical bookend to 'Jesus Christ Superstar', telling the story of the Book of Revelations in the same counter-culture rock-and-roll terms that it assumes its audience grooves on--while simultaneously being a scathing indictment of the music industry and the way it grinds up individualism and talent and turns it into pop-culture pablum. That's the goal, and it's actually an impressively lofty one. But...
Setting aside the second musical number, which is supposed to be a welcome antidote to the soulless glam and instead comes off as a schmaltzy salute to the Osmonds...and setting aside all the other musical numbers as well, which seem to have been written according to the well known songwriting technique of, "Sod it, at least it rhymes"...actually, I can't set that aside completely. One couplet goes, "It's a natural, natural, natural desire/to meet an actual, actual, actual vampire." This is not a vampire story. This is not even a story with vampires in it. This is a story where a vampire pops up into shot for three seconds as Dandi sings the above couplet, and then is never seen again for the remainder of the film. I'm not a professional songwriter, but I think that might be a sign that you should rethink your lyrics.
But reluctantly setting the music's flaws aside, the story doesn't do what it's trying to do. Mister Boogalow is woefully miscast and misdirected. He should be kind and warm and friendly and exactly the last person you'd expect to be the Anti-Christ; Alphie should be torn by self-doubt and indecision for breaking up with his beloved Bibi and giving in to his hallucinogenic visions of doom and disaster if he signs on with BIM. ("BIM" = "Boogalow International Management".) But instead, he's a sinister smirker with a goatee and a Russian accent. He couldn't be more obviously evil if he had horns. Which he does, in some scenes...well, horn. Not sure what happened to the other one. Maybe there was a wardrobe malfunction.
With Boogalow obviously evil, Bibi looks stupid for signing on with him. Her journey through the highs of becoming a superstar to the lows of personal destruction and drug abuse, on to her final personal transformation and reconciliation with Alphie, basically just becomes a waiting game for the bimbo to realize what the audience figured out 87 minutes ago.
It doesn't help that the film is catastrophically unsubtle. Don't get me wrong, I understand that a glam-rock Rapture is not the place for subtlety. But that's the wonderful thing about a musical; people get to openly sing about their emotions in big music numbers, getting all that subtext out of the way in a song so that they can be subtle in the actual story. Bibi's getting ready to sign a contract, but she has doubts...so have Boogalow and Dandi sing a song about temptation likening the contract to Eve's Apple. It's unsubtle, sure...but it's the right kind of unsubtle. As it is, Alphie has a hallucination where Bibi is literally presented with a giant prop apple while standing on a set that evokes a downright Ed Wood-ian vision of Dante's Inferno, precisely so that Dandi can sing a song about how she should take a bite of the giant prop apple. The song was already metaphor enough without turning the costumes, set decoration, and dialogue into a walking literalist extension of it.
The film's pacing also has issues. Far too much of the film is spent on Alphie moping over Bibi and Bibi pining over Alphie (while sleeping with other people and taking copious amounts of drugs). The actual plot, such as it is, sort of hovers around in the background trying not to intrude. There are a few scenes where Mister Boogalow's marketing gimmick of a "BIM Mark" goes from being a trendy fashion accessory to a mandatory identification badge, and one where BIM's dancercise show becomes mandatory for every American, but these are so abrupt and unmotivated that the allegory fails. It's now less an allegory, and more some guy wandering past the movie and mentioning, "It's all about Satan, by the way," when he thinks the A-plot isn't looking.
The conclusion, in which "Mister Topps" shows up to spirit Alphie and Bibi away to a new world in his pimped-out Caddy (if this movie does nothing else, it teaches us exactly which machina the deus exes from) is just as abrupt as all the other things that happen. In trying to give us both a savage expose of major record labels and a trippy rockpocalypse, the film really succeeds at neither. But I have to admit, there's just enough of a glimpse of what the film could have been that I can't help but love it a little. It fails miserably at everything it tries...but it tries at something. I don't think there's a single Michael Bay film I could say that about.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Quiz: Babylon 5 Episode Title Or Prog-Rock Song Title?
Five of the titles below are Babylon 5 episode titles. Five are prog-rock songs. Without resorting to Google, which is which?
1. "Dharma for One"
2. "Midnight on the Firing Line"
3. "The Geometry of Shadows"
4. "In the Court of the Crimson King"
5. "On the Silent Wings of Freedom"
6. "Requiem for Methuselah"
7. "The Enemy God Dances With the Black Spirits"
8. "Passing Through Gethsemane"
9. "Intersections In Real Time"
10. "Stormbringer"
(The astute among you will notice at least one trick question.)
1. "Dharma for One"
2. "Midnight on the Firing Line"
3. "The Geometry of Shadows"
4. "In the Court of the Crimson King"
5. "On the Silent Wings of Freedom"
6. "Requiem for Methuselah"
7. "The Enemy God Dances With the Black Spirits"
8. "Passing Through Gethsemane"
9. "Intersections In Real Time"
10. "Stormbringer"
(The astute among you will notice at least one trick question.)
Monday, December 03, 2012
It's Stockholm Syndrome, But It's a Better Rhyme Scheme
My friends have all heard this ad nauseum, but...every time I hear the song 'Stacy's Mom', or even every time it gets stuck in my head like the earworm it is, I get frustrated anew. Because "Mom" does not rhyme with "on". They have different consonant sounds. For that matter, "wrong" does not rhyme with "Mom" either. Every time I hear the song, it grates on my inner ear like biting down on tinfoil. As such, I have decided to correct the lyrics of the song. It may be a somewhat different story, but at least the rhymes work.
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
Stacy knows I came over after school? (after school)
Just to hang around by the pool (hang by the pool)
But her mom got back from her 'business trip'? (business trip)
She had plans to set a bomb off, give the cops the slip? (give 'em the slip)
I freaked a bit at first but then it kind of grew on me
Dying's kind of hot, baby can't you see
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
But I don't mind, I feel a certain calm
Stacy, can't you see you're just not the girl for me
She's tied me to a bomb but I'm in love with Stacy's mom
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn? (mowed your lawn)
Your mom came out with just a towel on (towel on)
I could tell she liked me from the way she stared (the way she stared)
And the way she chloroformed me over there (drugged me over there)
And I know that you think she wants to murder me
But since your dad walked out, your mom could use a guy like me
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
But I don't mind, I feel a certain calm
Stacy, can't you see you're just not the girl for me
She's tied me to a bomb but I'm in love with Stacy's mom
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
But I don't mind, I feel a certain calm
Stacy, can't you see you're just not the girl for me
She's tied me to a bomb but I'm in love with Stacy's mom
(She tied me to a bomb)
I'm in love with (Stacy's mom oh oh)
(Stacys mom oh oh)
I'm in love with Stacy's mom
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
Stacy knows I came over after school? (after school)
Just to hang around by the pool (hang by the pool)
But her mom got back from her 'business trip'? (business trip)
She had plans to set a bomb off, give the cops the slip? (give 'em the slip)
I freaked a bit at first but then it kind of grew on me
Dying's kind of hot, baby can't you see
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
But I don't mind, I feel a certain calm
Stacy, can't you see you're just not the girl for me
She's tied me to a bomb but I'm in love with Stacy's mom
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn? (mowed your lawn)
Your mom came out with just a towel on (towel on)
I could tell she liked me from the way she stared (the way she stared)
And the way she chloroformed me over there (drugged me over there)
And I know that you think she wants to murder me
But since your dad walked out, your mom could use a guy like me
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
But I don't mind, I feel a certain calm
Stacy, can't you see you're just not the girl for me
She's tied me to a bomb but I'm in love with Stacy's mom
Stacy's mom has tied me to a bomb
But I don't mind, I feel a certain calm
Stacy, can't you see you're just not the girl for me
She's tied me to a bomb but I'm in love with Stacy's mom
(She tied me to a bomb)
I'm in love with (Stacy's mom oh oh)
(Stacys mom oh oh)
I'm in love with Stacy's mom
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
How 'The Lion King' Should Have Gone
Scar: The future is littered with prizes
And though I'm the main addressee
The point that I must emphasize is
You won't get a sniff without--holy crap, is that lava? Oh my god, this whole place is going up! Run! Run, my hyena minions! Oh, God, no! Sweet merciful mother Earth, we're all going to dieeeeEEEEEEAAAGGHHH!!! (screams drowned out in an unholy explosion of superheated sulfuric gases, pyroclastic ash, and molten rock)
Then the rest would have just been Rafiki hitting people.
And though I'm the main addressee
The point that I must emphasize is
You won't get a sniff without--holy crap, is that lava? Oh my god, this whole place is going up! Run! Run, my hyena minions! Oh, God, no! Sweet merciful mother Earth, we're all going to dieeeeEEEEEEAAAGGHHH!!! (screams drowned out in an unholy explosion of superheated sulfuric gases, pyroclastic ash, and molten rock)
Then the rest would have just been Rafiki hitting people.
Thursday, February 03, 2011
Rhyme Assistance!
There's a song I've been hearing a lot lately at work. (KDWB--your place to go for one of up to six different songs!) It's a gentleman who's quite upset about the lack of emotional support he's getting from his girlfriend, relative to that which he gives her. He claims he would "catch a grenade for ya", and "throw my hand on a blade for ya", but after that he runs out of good rhymes and needs to resort to "jump in front of a train for ya" before claiming that she wouldn't do the same. (Incidentally, two points on this: One, most women care more about whether you'll run out to the store at 2 AM to get them donuts than whether or not you'll throw yourself in front of locomotives; and two, if you have actual first-hand knowledge of whether or not your girlfriend will catch a grenade for you, her lack of commitment is the least of your worries.)
In any event, I've decided to help the gentleman out by giving some other things that he would do for her. Such as...
"do time in a stockade for ya"
"drink some pink lemonade for ya"
"spray a cockroach with Raid for ya"
"put my hair in a braid for ya"
"wear a garlic pomade for ya"
"get pets neutered or spayed for ya"
"perform at Farm Aid for ya"
"take a nap in the shade for ya"
"lose my shirt in a trade for ya"
"sing a serenade for ya"
"dodge, parry, spin and evade for ya"
"freshen my room with Glade for ya"
"get all my clothing frayed for ya"
"score a high passing grade for ya"
"carve a statue of jade for ya"
I hope this helps. Although I understand that it makes it even more likely that she would not, in fact, do the same.
In any event, I've decided to help the gentleman out by giving some other things that he would do for her. Such as...
"do time in a stockade for ya"
"drink some pink lemonade for ya"
"spray a cockroach with Raid for ya"
"put my hair in a braid for ya"
"wear a garlic pomade for ya"
"get pets neutered or spayed for ya"
"perform at Farm Aid for ya"
"take a nap in the shade for ya"
"lose my shirt in a trade for ya"
"sing a serenade for ya"
"dodge, parry, spin and evade for ya"
"freshen my room with Glade for ya"
"get all my clothing frayed for ya"
"score a high passing grade for ya"
"carve a statue of jade for ya"
I hope this helps. Although I understand that it makes it even more likely that she would not, in fact, do the same.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
My Vision of "Doctor Horrible, Part Three"
First, let me offer the caveat that it's always easier to look at someone else's work and say, "Oh, I know what they should have done," than it is to actually come up with the idea in the first place. Everybody's a critic, everybody's an editor, and most of everybody is wrong about how good their changes are. (I have had people send me "corrected" versions of my short stories. Suffice to say that I was not moved to incorporate their plot holes and forced expository dialogue.)
That said, I really do think that the final chapter of "Doctor Horrible" dropped the ball on a lot of levels. Act Two ends, for those of you who haven't seen it recently, with Captain Hammer telling Billy that he recognizes him as Doctor Horrible, that he can see that Billy has a crush on Penny (who is starstruck by Captain Hammer) and that he plans on sleeping with Penny just to crush Doctor Horrible's spirits. Doctor Horrible, who has been struggling with the moral dilemma of "kill or be killed" (he's been ordered to prove himself as a supervillain by murdering someone, or else face death himself at the hands of uber-villain Bad Horse) decides that he's suddenly got it in him to kill after all.
Act Three picks up a few days later. UM? Doctor Horrible has just worked himself up into a killing frenzy over the thought of Captain Hammer molesting his sweet, innocent Penny...and his response is to go home and think about what to do next? Penny, who has up to this point been portrayed as more innocent than Mary Marvel, gives it up to Captain Hammer? (This also has the side effect of making Penny look dumber than a bag of...well, penises, I suppose...because she doesn't realize that Captain Hammer is taking advantage of her for sex, which he couldn't be more obvious about if he tried.) And then, of course, the story ends with a good old-fashioned Woman in a Refrigerator, as Penny becomes nothing more than the toy that the two Important Male Characters accidentally break. What's Penny's reaction to finding out that Billy is really a villain? Does she hate him, or does she see through his facade to the innocent beneath? Does she ever see Captain Hammer for the heel he is? Who cares about her, she's just a silly woman!
So, my Act Three takes a step back. It's the night of the Big Date, as Captain Hammer takes Penny to the HammerCave. Before their date, Billy gives Penny a friendship bracelet, to show that even though she's dating someone--someone handsome and rich and strong and charming and...**chokes down bile** Anyway, he still cares about her. In a strictly platonic sense, of course.
But secretly, the friendship bracelet has a tracking device hidden inside. When Captain Hammer takes Penny to the HammerCave, Doctor Horrible will follow them! And once you're inside a super-hero's secret hideout, they're always powerless against you. It's like you're in their underwear or something. Armed with his freeze gun, Doctor Horrible stalks the couple as they go on their date.
Of course, the date is all about CH making hideous faux pas after hideous faux pas, but still charming the innocent Penny with his smarmy manner. DH watches, his rage growing, until finally he takes her back to show off the HammerCave...and DH follows in after them. He stalks them slowly, waiting for just the right moment to strike...
And doesn't get the chance. Instead, Penny whips out a compact paralysis beamer from her purse and blasts the (stripped down to his boxers) Captain Hammer with it! As he gapes at her in immobile shock, she gloats at him--did he really think that anyone could be that sweet, that innocent, that pathetically naive? A homeless shelter? Pah! A perfect cover for a true supervillain, allowing her to pretend to be kind and decent while secretly reveling in the misery of others! A perfect place to hide for the soon-to-be-newest member of the Evil League of Evil...BAD PENNY!
Suddenly, Doctor Horrible leaps out of the shadows, filled with outrage. Penny can't be evil! She's the sweet, innocent girl of his dreams that he loved from afar! She can't have...lied to him? Penny, of course, points out that he's simultaneously confessing that he's a supervillain while complaining that she lied to him about being innocent, but he kind of misses the irony. The two of them do battle, causing rockfalls and explosions in the HammerCave. (Cheap rockfalls and explosions, natch.)
In the end, Penny is lost under the falling rocks. Doctor Horrible is about to let Captain Hammer perish as well, but realizes that while true loves come and go, a really good enemy is irreplaceable. He submits his victory over Bad Penny as proof that he's truly bad to the bone, and is accepted into the Evil League of Evil. (Yes, Penny still dies, but she dies as a well-rounded character with her own goals and drives within the story. And of course, during the stinger, we see her sitting at the edge of an underground pool, trapped behind tons of rock, but still alive. "I'm Bad Penny," she whispers to herself. "I'll keep turning up.")
That said, I really do think that the final chapter of "Doctor Horrible" dropped the ball on a lot of levels. Act Two ends, for those of you who haven't seen it recently, with Captain Hammer telling Billy that he recognizes him as Doctor Horrible, that he can see that Billy has a crush on Penny (who is starstruck by Captain Hammer) and that he plans on sleeping with Penny just to crush Doctor Horrible's spirits. Doctor Horrible, who has been struggling with the moral dilemma of "kill or be killed" (he's been ordered to prove himself as a supervillain by murdering someone, or else face death himself at the hands of uber-villain Bad Horse) decides that he's suddenly got it in him to kill after all.
Act Three picks up a few days later. UM? Doctor Horrible has just worked himself up into a killing frenzy over the thought of Captain Hammer molesting his sweet, innocent Penny...and his response is to go home and think about what to do next? Penny, who has up to this point been portrayed as more innocent than Mary Marvel, gives it up to Captain Hammer? (This also has the side effect of making Penny look dumber than a bag of...well, penises, I suppose...because she doesn't realize that Captain Hammer is taking advantage of her for sex, which he couldn't be more obvious about if he tried.) And then, of course, the story ends with a good old-fashioned Woman in a Refrigerator, as Penny becomes nothing more than the toy that the two Important Male Characters accidentally break. What's Penny's reaction to finding out that Billy is really a villain? Does she hate him, or does she see through his facade to the innocent beneath? Does she ever see Captain Hammer for the heel he is? Who cares about her, she's just a silly woman!
So, my Act Three takes a step back. It's the night of the Big Date, as Captain Hammer takes Penny to the HammerCave. Before their date, Billy gives Penny a friendship bracelet, to show that even though she's dating someone--someone handsome and rich and strong and charming and...**chokes down bile** Anyway, he still cares about her. In a strictly platonic sense, of course.
But secretly, the friendship bracelet has a tracking device hidden inside. When Captain Hammer takes Penny to the HammerCave, Doctor Horrible will follow them! And once you're inside a super-hero's secret hideout, they're always powerless against you. It's like you're in their underwear or something. Armed with his freeze gun, Doctor Horrible stalks the couple as they go on their date.
Of course, the date is all about CH making hideous faux pas after hideous faux pas, but still charming the innocent Penny with his smarmy manner. DH watches, his rage growing, until finally he takes her back to show off the HammerCave...and DH follows in after them. He stalks them slowly, waiting for just the right moment to strike...
And doesn't get the chance. Instead, Penny whips out a compact paralysis beamer from her purse and blasts the (stripped down to his boxers) Captain Hammer with it! As he gapes at her in immobile shock, she gloats at him--did he really think that anyone could be that sweet, that innocent, that pathetically naive? A homeless shelter? Pah! A perfect cover for a true supervillain, allowing her to pretend to be kind and decent while secretly reveling in the misery of others! A perfect place to hide for the soon-to-be-newest member of the Evil League of Evil...BAD PENNY!
Suddenly, Doctor Horrible leaps out of the shadows, filled with outrage. Penny can't be evil! She's the sweet, innocent girl of his dreams that he loved from afar! She can't have...lied to him? Penny, of course, points out that he's simultaneously confessing that he's a supervillain while complaining that she lied to him about being innocent, but he kind of misses the irony. The two of them do battle, causing rockfalls and explosions in the HammerCave. (Cheap rockfalls and explosions, natch.)
In the end, Penny is lost under the falling rocks. Doctor Horrible is about to let Captain Hammer perish as well, but realizes that while true loves come and go, a really good enemy is irreplaceable. He submits his victory over Bad Penny as proof that he's truly bad to the bone, and is accepted into the Evil League of Evil. (Yes, Penny still dies, but she dies as a well-rounded character with her own goals and drives within the story. And of course, during the stinger, we see her sitting at the edge of an underground pool, trapped behind tons of rock, but still alive. "I'm Bad Penny," she whispers to herself. "I'll keep turning up.")
Sunday, August 01, 2010
Review: Paul Is Undead
Really, can there be a better concept for a book than "What if the Beatles were actually a group of brain-eating zombies from Liverpool with super-powers that set out to conquer the world with their music, only to fall victim to internal discord brought about by the arrival of Eighth Level Ninja Lord Yoko Ono?" Seriously, is it actually possible?
I fell in love with "Paul Is Undead: The British Zombie Invasion" the moment I saw the cover, and nothing I read ever convinced me that I'd made the wrong decision by snapping it up. It's a zombie book that isn't the same lame "zombie plague spreads across the world, here's the tale of the survivors as they try to fend off the hordes of the undead...and fail!" plot that's been the paint-by-numbers source of so many recent zombie movies, comics, and books. (I'm not pointing any fingers at any specific books, because hell, I've enjoyed a few of the paint-by-numbers zombie stuff...but let's just say that "City of the Dead" isn't getting a review like this.)
And it's more than just a zombie book. Author Alan Goldsher gleefully tosses in vampires, ghosts (the ghost of Ed Sullivan cracked me up), mole men, Satan, invisible men, and of course ninjas. Ringo Starr's difficulties as a ninja drumming in a zombie band forms a good chunk of the underpinnings of the book. It's a bizarre, kitchen-sink approach to writing that probably wouldn't have worked anywhere but here, but somehow it's exactly what the material demands.
In fact, that's a good description of the book as a whole: "It wouldn't have worked anywhere but here." Any other book would have worn out its welcome before the end of three hundred pages of comedy-zombie material. Any other book would have driven me nuts with the "oral history" style of writing. (Actually, that's not quite true. I hate non-fiction books that use the "oral history" style with a passion, but I adore novels that pretend to be non-fiction "oral history" style books. Perhaps it's because the style tends to simply present people's narratives unquestioningly, which is fine for fiction but very off-pissing when you're trying to find out the truth of something.) It's just one of those books that works because it's what it is.
And what it is, is hilarious. Read it for the account of the Beatles' appearance on the Ed Sullivan show, where the screaming wasn't hysteria, it was terror. Read it for the shocking account of the Shea Stadium concert where thousands were brutally murdered by Beatlemaniacs. But mostly, read it because it's funny.
I fell in love with "Paul Is Undead: The British Zombie Invasion" the moment I saw the cover, and nothing I read ever convinced me that I'd made the wrong decision by snapping it up. It's a zombie book that isn't the same lame "zombie plague spreads across the world, here's the tale of the survivors as they try to fend off the hordes of the undead...and fail!" plot that's been the paint-by-numbers source of so many recent zombie movies, comics, and books. (I'm not pointing any fingers at any specific books, because hell, I've enjoyed a few of the paint-by-numbers zombie stuff...but let's just say that "City of the Dead" isn't getting a review like this.)
And it's more than just a zombie book. Author Alan Goldsher gleefully tosses in vampires, ghosts (the ghost of Ed Sullivan cracked me up), mole men, Satan, invisible men, and of course ninjas. Ringo Starr's difficulties as a ninja drumming in a zombie band forms a good chunk of the underpinnings of the book. It's a bizarre, kitchen-sink approach to writing that probably wouldn't have worked anywhere but here, but somehow it's exactly what the material demands.
In fact, that's a good description of the book as a whole: "It wouldn't have worked anywhere but here." Any other book would have worn out its welcome before the end of three hundred pages of comedy-zombie material. Any other book would have driven me nuts with the "oral history" style of writing. (Actually, that's not quite true. I hate non-fiction books that use the "oral history" style with a passion, but I adore novels that pretend to be non-fiction "oral history" style books. Perhaps it's because the style tends to simply present people's narratives unquestioningly, which is fine for fiction but very off-pissing when you're trying to find out the truth of something.) It's just one of those books that works because it's what it is.
And what it is, is hilarious. Read it for the account of the Beatles' appearance on the Ed Sullivan show, where the screaming wasn't hysteria, it was terror. Read it for the shocking account of the Shea Stadium concert where thousands were brutally murdered by Beatlemaniacs. But mostly, read it because it's funny.
Monday, August 24, 2009
So Very Sorry...
I am so deeply ashamed of myself for inflicting this on you, but ever since finding out that the last David Tennant Doctor Who special would be called 'The End of Time', I just cannot stop imagining what Meatloaf's reaction would be (assuming he was a Doctor Who fan, which I can totally see, honestly...) And I think I just have to blog it.
I think he might say...or actually, sing...
So now I'm praying for 'The End of Time'
To hurry up and arrive
'Cause if I gotta wait another minute for Who
I don't think that I can really survive
I'm praying for 'The End of Time'
That's all that I can do
Praying for 'The End of Time'
The end of Tennant's time on Who!
I think he might say...or actually, sing...
So now I'm praying for 'The End of Time'
To hurry up and arrive
'Cause if I gotta wait another minute for Who
I don't think that I can really survive
I'm praying for 'The End of Time'
That's all that I can do
Praying for 'The End of Time'
The end of Tennant's time on Who!
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Entertainment News #3
BILLY JOEL ARRESTED FOR ARSON
POP STAR OFFERS CONFUSED, INCOHERENT DENIAL
Singer and songwriter Billy Joel was arrested today on suspicion of arson, after being found near the scene of a three-alarm fire by police officer Sergeant Thomas O'Leary. O'Leary was off-duty at the time, heading to a second job as a bartender at "Mister Cacciatore's", a popular local establishment, but nonetheless made the arrest.
Police claim that when questioned about the incident, Joel offered a confused and incoherent "alibi" that amounted to little more than a string of names of people and places, many of whom were deceased at the time of the fire and a few of which were fictional. The four and a half minute long statement seemed to imply, at points, that he was with "Davy Crockett, Peter Pan, (and) Elvis Presley" at "Disneyland", but contradicted itself with his later claim that he was with "(Menachim) Begin (and Ronald) Reagan" in "Palestine."
One thing that Joel maintained steadfastly throughout the stream-of-consciousness statement was his innocence of the crime that police accused him of. Frequently and repeatedly, he insisted that "we didn't start the fire, it was always burning since the world's been turning" (police are now searching for co-conspirators based on Joel's unintentional use of the word "we".) He further claimed to be trying to fight the blaze when police found him.
Ironically, while attempting to clear his name of arson charges, Joel seemed to confess to a crime he almost certainly didn't commit--at one point, he cocked his thumb and forefinger into a gun and said, simply, "JFK, blown away--what else do I have to say?" Police point out that the singer would have been fourteen at the time of the Kennedy assassinations, and would have had no way to get from New York City to Dallas for the shooting.
At this point, the next stage in the legal process remains unclear. Joel has been released on bail, but his press conference consisted solely of him insisting again and again, frequently in a high-pitched voice, that he was "an innocent man." His lawyers have not declared yet whether they intend to use an insanity defense, even though Joel has stated publicly on his leaving the courtroom that "you may be right, I may be crazy, but I just may be the lunatic you're looking for" (an incriminating statement that may make it difficult to find an unbiased jury.)
One thing is certain; if convicted, the legal system has made it clear that they intend to seek the maximum sentence for his crimes. It seems that the New York City penal system intends, if possible, to hold him for the longest time.
POP STAR OFFERS CONFUSED, INCOHERENT DENIAL
Singer and songwriter Billy Joel was arrested today on suspicion of arson, after being found near the scene of a three-alarm fire by police officer Sergeant Thomas O'Leary. O'Leary was off-duty at the time, heading to a second job as a bartender at "Mister Cacciatore's", a popular local establishment, but nonetheless made the arrest.
Police claim that when questioned about the incident, Joel offered a confused and incoherent "alibi" that amounted to little more than a string of names of people and places, many of whom were deceased at the time of the fire and a few of which were fictional. The four and a half minute long statement seemed to imply, at points, that he was with "Davy Crockett, Peter Pan, (and) Elvis Presley" at "Disneyland", but contradicted itself with his later claim that he was with "(Menachim) Begin (and Ronald) Reagan" in "Palestine."
One thing that Joel maintained steadfastly throughout the stream-of-consciousness statement was his innocence of the crime that police accused him of. Frequently and repeatedly, he insisted that "we didn't start the fire, it was always burning since the world's been turning" (police are now searching for co-conspirators based on Joel's unintentional use of the word "we".) He further claimed to be trying to fight the blaze when police found him.
Ironically, while attempting to clear his name of arson charges, Joel seemed to confess to a crime he almost certainly didn't commit--at one point, he cocked his thumb and forefinger into a gun and said, simply, "JFK, blown away--what else do I have to say?" Police point out that the singer would have been fourteen at the time of the Kennedy assassinations, and would have had no way to get from New York City to Dallas for the shooting.
At this point, the next stage in the legal process remains unclear. Joel has been released on bail, but his press conference consisted solely of him insisting again and again, frequently in a high-pitched voice, that he was "an innocent man." His lawyers have not declared yet whether they intend to use an insanity defense, even though Joel has stated publicly on his leaving the courtroom that "you may be right, I may be crazy, but I just may be the lunatic you're looking for" (an incriminating statement that may make it difficult to find an unbiased jury.)
One thing is certain; if convicted, the legal system has made it clear that they intend to seek the maximum sentence for his crimes. It seems that the New York City penal system intends, if possible, to hold him for the longest time.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Correcting Popular Song Lyrics
I just wanted to take a moment and, as a public service, correct certain mistaken impressions members of the public might have gotten as a result of listening to popular songs on the radio. This is a minor but significant service I have chosen to perform from time to time, simply because radio remains the third or maybe fourth most popular medium of communication out there. (It definitely beats out carrier pigeons, at any rate.)
Today, I'd like to correct a misapprehension caused by lyrics in Natasha Bedingfield's song, "Unwritten", in which she sings, "Feel the rain on your skin/No one else can feel it for you..."
This is technically incorrect. A person with expert skills in butchery and tanning could, in fact, flay off a piece of your skin that would be extremely thin and, after tanning, quite supple. They could then find a sufficiently powerful rainstorm that the impact of the raindrops could be felt directly through the piece of thin leather. Naturally, this would wreck the material, so it could only be done once per piece of your skin that they felt the rain on, but they could nonetheless feel it for you.
Hopefully, this information arrives in time to be helpful.
Today, I'd like to correct a misapprehension caused by lyrics in Natasha Bedingfield's song, "Unwritten", in which she sings, "Feel the rain on your skin/No one else can feel it for you..."
This is technically incorrect. A person with expert skills in butchery and tanning could, in fact, flay off a piece of your skin that would be extremely thin and, after tanning, quite supple. They could then find a sufficiently powerful rainstorm that the impact of the raindrops could be felt directly through the piece of thin leather. Naturally, this would wreck the material, so it could only be done once per piece of your skin that they felt the rain on, but they could nonetheless feel it for you.
Hopefully, this information arrives in time to be helpful.
Friday, April 21, 2006
To the Tune Of... (again)
I'm so very, very sorry for what I'm about to do to your brain...
He was a boy
She was a girl
Can I make it any more obvious?
He, a Jedi
She was a queen
What more can I say?
He wanted her
She'd never tell secretly she wanted him as well
But all of his friends
Stuck up their nose
He couldn't have sex 'cause of Jedi oathes
He was a V8der boi
She said see you l8er boi
He was just far too young for words
She had a pretty face
When he met her out in space
He used that "angel" line on her
Five years from now
She sits at home
Having his baby
She's all alone
Obi-Wan stops by
Guess what she sees
V8der boi messin' up Jedi kids
She calls up her friends
They already know
And they started
Rebelling long ago
She tags along
Has kids and dies
Thinking of the man that choked her throat
He was a V8der boi
She said see you l8er boi
He was just too creepy for her
Now he runs the Death Star
He has a cool facial scar
Does your pretty face see what he's worth?
He was a V8der boi
She said see you l8er boi
He was just too creepy for her
Now he runs the Death Star
He has a cool facial scar
Does your pretty face see what he's worth?
Sorry girl but you missed out
Tough luck that boy's mine now
We are more than just good friends
This is how the story ends
Too bad that you couldn't see
See the Sith that boy could be
There is more than meets the eye
I see the evil that's inside
He's just a boy
And I'm Emperor
Can I make it any more obvious?
We are in love
Haven't you heard
How we rock each other's world?
I'm with the V8der boi
I said see you l8er boi
I'll meet you here after you go
And kill all the young Jedi
You'll love watching them all die
Like Sandpeople you used to know
I'm with the V8der boi
I said see you l8er boi
I'll meet you here after you go
And kill all the young Jedi
You'll love watching them all die
Like Sandpeople you used to know
He was a boy
She was a girl
Can I make it any more obvious?
He, a Jedi
She was a queen
What more can I say?
He wanted her
She'd never tell secretly she wanted him as well
But all of his friends
Stuck up their nose
He couldn't have sex 'cause of Jedi oathes
He was a V8der boi
She said see you l8er boi
He was just far too young for words
She had a pretty face
When he met her out in space
He used that "angel" line on her
Five years from now
She sits at home
Having his baby
She's all alone
Obi-Wan stops by
Guess what she sees
V8der boi messin' up Jedi kids
She calls up her friends
They already know
And they started
Rebelling long ago
She tags along
Has kids and dies
Thinking of the man that choked her throat
He was a V8der boi
She said see you l8er boi
He was just too creepy for her
Now he runs the Death Star
He has a cool facial scar
Does your pretty face see what he's worth?
He was a V8der boi
She said see you l8er boi
He was just too creepy for her
Now he runs the Death Star
He has a cool facial scar
Does your pretty face see what he's worth?
Sorry girl but you missed out
Tough luck that boy's mine now
We are more than just good friends
This is how the story ends
Too bad that you couldn't see
See the Sith that boy could be
There is more than meets the eye
I see the evil that's inside
He's just a boy
And I'm Emperor
Can I make it any more obvious?
We are in love
Haven't you heard
How we rock each other's world?
I'm with the V8der boi
I said see you l8er boi
I'll meet you here after you go
And kill all the young Jedi
You'll love watching them all die
Like Sandpeople you used to know
I'm with the V8der boi
I said see you l8er boi
I'll meet you here after you go
And kill all the young Jedi
You'll love watching them all die
Like Sandpeople you used to know
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
To the Tune Of...
Ahem-hem...
Scratched by thorns of roses or by claws of kittens
Smacked by large men wearing thick lead-lined mittens
Beaten with mallets and dropped out of planes
These are a few of my favorite pains!
Kicked by large ponies and burned by hot streudel
Rapped with a large brass bell right in the noodle
Hit by two fast-spinning steel weathervanes
These are a few of my favorite pains!
Girls choking my throat with their blue satin sashes
Fires that burn off my nose and eyelashes
Needles injecting things into my veins
These are a few of my favorite pains!
When the dog bites
When the bee stings
It makes me feel glad
I simply remember my favorite pains
And why I love feeling bad!
[Repeat all verses until you pass out from the pain]
Scratched by thorns of roses or by claws of kittens
Smacked by large men wearing thick lead-lined mittens
Beaten with mallets and dropped out of planes
These are a few of my favorite pains!
Kicked by large ponies and burned by hot streudel
Rapped with a large brass bell right in the noodle
Hit by two fast-spinning steel weathervanes
These are a few of my favorite pains!
Girls choking my throat with their blue satin sashes
Fires that burn off my nose and eyelashes
Needles injecting things into my veins
These are a few of my favorite pains!
When the dog bites
When the bee stings
It makes me feel glad
I simply remember my favorite pains
And why I love feeling bad!
[Repeat all verses until you pass out from the pain]
Friday, January 06, 2006
One Tiny Thing
Changed my mind about 'Purge', by Bif Naked. It's dreamy. (I must have been in a bad mood the first time I listened to it.)
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Jazz Textures
Something I was wondering tonight at work, when someone tuned to the "smooth jazz" station...
Are there other textures of jazz? Like rough, abrasive jazz, which you can put on in the background, but it'll eventually wear away at your nerves and make you tense, irritable, and in the mood to fight.
Or sharp jazz. You'll be listening to it, it doesn't really register much, then BAM! You suddenly get a big jagged chunk of jazz straight in your ear. (Presumably necessitating a tetanus shot.)
Or perhaps, moving in the opposite direction, soft downy jazz. Jazz so inconsequential it puts you to sleep.
Liquid jazz, which presumably conforms itself to any listener's contours...
Gaseous jazz, jazz so inconsequential you don't actually notice you're listening to it. (This last jazz is, of course, a purely theoretical jazz texture, as by definition, it's impossible to notice the existence of true gaseous jazz. In fact, I could be listening to it right now.)
All of the above is, of course, "free jazz" when heard over the radio, and only becomes "expensive jazz" when heard in concert.
Are there other textures of jazz? Like rough, abrasive jazz, which you can put on in the background, but it'll eventually wear away at your nerves and make you tense, irritable, and in the mood to fight.
Or sharp jazz. You'll be listening to it, it doesn't really register much, then BAM! You suddenly get a big jagged chunk of jazz straight in your ear. (Presumably necessitating a tetanus shot.)
Or perhaps, moving in the opposite direction, soft downy jazz. Jazz so inconsequential it puts you to sleep.
Liquid jazz, which presumably conforms itself to any listener's contours...
Gaseous jazz, jazz so inconsequential you don't actually notice you're listening to it. (This last jazz is, of course, a purely theoretical jazz texture, as by definition, it's impossible to notice the existence of true gaseous jazz. In fact, I could be listening to it right now.)
All of the above is, of course, "free jazz" when heard over the radio, and only becomes "expensive jazz" when heard in concert.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Review: Superbeautifulmonster (Bif Naked)
Latest by Bif Naked, and it's nice. I'll admit to being a bit flat on 'Purge', her sophomore effort, but this one hits a lot of the same notes that 'I, Bificus' did. Very much in the mode of Joan Jett, Pat Benatar, and other female vocalists who weren't afraid to display emotions beyond "love" and "worrying about the man you love". She's capable of showing anger ("Let-Down", which is a snarky anthem for every garage-band kid in America), sorrow (an excellent cover of "Nothing Else Matters"--I hated covers when I was a teenager, but I've come completely to the opposite view and think that a good cover song is a thing of beauty), and she's not afraid to admit that she's got a sex drive as healthy as most guys. ("Funeral for a Good Grrl" contains a few lines that made me blush--"I don't want your diamonds/just a necklace of pearls" and "You be the kid and I'll be the candy store" being two of them.)
And "The World Is Over" is a song so damn good that it should be playing hourly on every radio station in America.
So, yeah, this is another very good album from a very good artist. Go. Buy.
And "The World Is Over" is a song so damn good that it should be playing hourly on every radio station in America.
So, yeah, this is another very good album from a very good artist. Go. Buy.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
L'Esprit D'Escalier
I didn't get a chance to say this at the time, but to the woman who wrote the column in my college newspaper, back when I was a student, talking about how everyone was too quick to label independent woman as "angry", and who wrote the line: "Everyone's talking about Alanis Morrisette as an 'angry young woman' just because she wrote about having flies in your champagne"...
No, dear, I think it was the one about "Every time I scratch my nails down someone else's back I hope you feel it" that got her labeled as an 'angry young woman'.
Nice to finally get that off my chest.
No, dear, I think it was the one about "Every time I scratch my nails down someone else's back I hope you feel it" that got her labeled as an 'angry young woman'.
Nice to finally get that off my chest.
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