Monday, April 9, 2007
L.A. Weekly: In defense of '70s radio-pop. No, I wasn't named after Casey Kasem. But I'd be flattered to have been.
Big choices over Zombie Jesus Weekend, namely, which flick to see — The Host or Grindhouse?
We saw the latter. The Robert Rodriguez half was far superior to Quentin Tarantino's. Apparently, Mr. Rez Dawg thinks paying homage to schlock cinema is the perfect opportunity to write boring, self-referential dialog that goes nowhere slowly. The worst part? He didn't even make a grindhouse picture — he made a shitty Tarrantino one.
The fake trailers were by far the best part of the film, surprise, surprise.
False 45th have it out for Lindsay Buckingham and the Burlington Free Press. Who will they attack next — Zombie Jesus? (For more info on ZJ, check your local repository of all things Undead).
Had an illuminating conversation with Mr. Greg Davis on Sunday. Then it was back to Casa Del Casey for another round of "Veronica Mars." Well, there was an hour break to catch the first of the last episodes of "The Sopranos."
I love Christian Fennesz and Ryuichi Sakamoto. You should, too. Have a listen:
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Punk music is getting good again.
Exhibit A:
Clockcleaner (keep your eyes on these guys — '07 is gonna be their year).
And my personal favorite, Evil Army. Yeah, they're kinda metal, but so what?
The new Andrew Bird makes a fine come down from all the slashing and bashing.
I think I'm gonna go home now and watch the rain through the window of my studio. Isn't that romantic?
Of course you've seen this by now. To me, the most disturbing part is that Keith Richards continues to ingest hard drugs well into his golden years. But I almost admire his commitment.
The New Yorker's Sahsa Frere-Jones writes eloquently (and rather emptily) about Prince. What a great job SFJ has. He gets to pen high-falutin' prose about all sorts of *mainstream* music, and he doesn't even have to go to shows. Unless its say, the Purple One in Vegas. Or maybe Radiohead.
Speaking of music critics, here's a guide to our cliché-ridden vocabulary. It's no Rock Snob's Dictionary, but it should prove valuable to some.
Have you ever read Doug Mosurak's Still Single column? It's really fun.
Off to my editorial meeting. Then its back to putting well-worn adjectives in their proper places.