BETTER THE SECOND TIME AROUND?
We Are Glitter - Goldfrapp
6/10
by Jason Bauers
I am always wary of anything bearing the label “remix album,” for the reason that, in many cases, records in this category are merely attempts by big name labels to cash in on the success of an album they already put out, with little additional cost to themselves. Simply take an album’s worth of songs which have already been written and recorded, put them in the hands of a few notable DJs and producers, and just like that, you’ve got a “new” album that, more often than not, disgraces the name of the work that spawned it in the first place.
We Are Glitter, from the British dance/electronica duo Goldfrapp is, indeed, a remix album. Fortunately for us, it does not suffer the fate befallen by so many of its kind. In fact, many of the remixes on this album add a new and very interesting dimension to tracks taken from Goldfrapp’s most recent album, Supernature.
Fans of the duo’s previous output may find themselves pleasantly surprised, or sorely disappointed. Many of those enlisted to remix old tracks have taken once upbeat, frantic, electro-dance tunes and transformed them into something much darker and more atmospheric. Alison Goldfrapp’s vocal melodies, usually cotton candy sweet, have an altogether haunting quality when placed against these new backdrops. Tracks of this nature, such as Benny Benassi’s version of “Ooh La La,” or The Flaming Lips’ remix of “Satin Chic,” are certainly the high points of the album.
However, We Are Glitter slows—or in this case, speeds—to a halt as it nears its end. The unconventional dark ambience is replaced by the same type of run-of-the-mill dance remixes that plague so many other remix albums. The later tracks in the album add nothing notable, recycling the standard up-tempo techno groove that has become mundane in this day and age, and will leave many asking, “Why bother?” A handful of these mixes seem borderline torturous, clocking in anywhere between an agonizing seven and 12 minutes. Thankfully, these tracks are in the minority.
At the end of the day, We Are Glitter comes off as mixed bag. The fact that it is even somewhat cohesive is fairly remarkable, considering that it is, more or less, a compilation of several different artists’ interpretations of Goldfrapp tracks. As a remix album, it fares better than most. Fans of Goldfrapp’s work will want to pick this up, as it offers a fresh new take on some old tracks. For anyone else interested, you’re probably better off picking up Supernature instead.
NOTHING, YOU SAY?
Colorblind - Robert Randolph & The Family Band
7/10
by Daniele Hauptman
Robert Randolph & the Family Band are renowned for their live performances as a funk and soul jam band. During shows, it is entirely normal for the Family Band to switch instruments with each other, proving their wide-ranging musical proficiency. They are, undoubtedly, true stage musicians. However, making the jump from performance artists to recording artists is a challenge. While the instruments make the transition almost seamlessly, the lyrics lag behind in depth and ingenuity on their new album, Colorblind.
The album opens with, “Ain’t Nothing Wrong With That,” which sounds like a marching band mixed with a rock and roll-style gospel choir and step team. The infectious melodic blend of different musical modes in this song furthers its message that “Red, yellow, black, or white—it don’t matter / We all gettin’ down tonight.” Stomps and soul claps interspersed with exclamations of “hooh!” and a dramatically harmonized chorus of “Ain’t nothing wrong with that” kicks the album off to a good start.
The next track, “Deliver Me,” has strained rocker vocals that make Robert Randolph sound like Lenny Kravitz in “Fly Away.” While the guitars are tight, electric, and amazing, the background vocals are beautifully harmonized, and the drums complement the rest of the instrumentals, I wish there weren’t any lyrics to this song.
A surprisingly impressive track is the R&B-style love song, “Angels.” The lyrics are cheesy, containing such gems as, “You got me believing in angels / You got me believing in me (Now I’m walking and talking different!)” Randolph’s voice is mellow and smooth, fitting beautifully with the organ, piano, and soft background vocals. His guitar on this track covers a broad range of styles, from quietly wavering fadeout melodies in the beginning to fierce and steely high-pitched bars that would be fitting for a ballad.
Unfortunately, the next song is the overly repetitive Byrds cover, “Jesus Is Just Alright,” featuring Eric Clapton, Randolph’s mentor and friend. Of course, the guitars are great; Randolph and Clapton complement each other with crazy riffs and pedal-work. Especially at the end of the track, when the lyrics finally go away, the guitars really shine.
On “Love Is The Only Way” it seems like Dave Matthews completely took over, making Randolph his guest instrumentalist once again. Matthews should just stick to his marching bugs and tripping hippies.
Unfortunately, throughout the album the lyrics often seem canned. They range from the generic in “Diane” (“I’ll be seeing you next summertime / You’ll be faithful—you know that I am”) to the gratingly repetitive in “Jesus Is Just Alright.” However, the guitars, background vocals, and instrumentals are consistently excellent beginning to end. If you aren’t bothered by often religious-oriented lyrics, and you like funky jam-rock, the entire band’s musical prowess makes this album worth a listen.
MORE GORE FOR YOUR BUCK
Saw III
7/10
by Abel Germosen
Death traps, pig heads, and a whole lot of chloroform…Yes guys, Jigsaw is back and more sadistic than ever in this third installment in the Saw series. Easily the most gore-filled of all three films, there are sure to be instances where even the boldest of the bold will feel a bit squeamish. Saw III is a shocking thriller with an intricate storyline that at times seems a little too convoluted.
Continuing where the last film left off, Saw III sees the return of a bed-ridden Jigsaw (Tobin Bell) and his apprentice, Amanda (Shawnee Smith). In a recap of the last film’s events, we see Detective Eric Walters, played by Donnie Wahlberg, still shackled up in the famous bathroom set, while his partner (Dina Meyer) is still searching for him. If you have not seen the previous films, this introduction will seem a bit rushed, but the filmmakers do not let you linger on this for too long as they lead into the actual plot.
Serving as test subjects for Jigsaw and Amanda this time are Lynn, a surgeon, and Jeff, an over-the-hill drunk dealing with the grief of losing his son. Their tasks are linked as Lynn (Bahar Soomekh) has to keep Jigsaw alive until Jeff (Angus Macfayden) makes it through a myriad of flesh-ripping, bone-snapping, and just plain old horrifying new gadgets and torture rooms courtesy of Jigsaw and “friend.” This type of setting creates a tense environment that will keep audiences as confused as they are disgusted.
Director Darren Lynn Bousman, cranks up the amount of blood and gore, as if the last two films did not provide enough, which left some audience members, myself included, at the brim of regurgitating all over fellow theatre patrons. The traps take on a life of their own, as every room has its own specific personality and obstacles to overcome. Without giving away too much, I feel it is my duty to indulge your imagination about at least one of the traps. Worthy of notable mention is “meat locker,” where a female is bound by her hands and feet in a freezer while water is periodically sprayed on her. The “meat locker” is not even the tip of the iceberg, folks (get it…iceberg, awww never mind), but it is important because we are introduced to the tasks Jeff must undergo throughout his journey.
Overall, this movie is not anything groundbreaking, but as far as horror/thrillers go, this is as good as it gets. Saw III has an interesting, if at times too ambitious, storyline along with alright acting and a villain who is menacing even on his deathbed. All these attributes make this film better than 90 percent of the other thrillers being made today and earns the Saw series a spot right next to Friday the 13th and the Nightmare on Elm Street series in my book. More extravagant, smarter, and bloodier than the previous installments, fans of the series are sure to leave satisfied after sitting through this horrific masterpiece.
IF I WAS A RICH GIRL
Marie Antoinette
4/10
by Suzy Kim
I walked into theatre 17 at Regal Cinemas on Transit Road to watch Marie Antoinette. The lights dimmed and on came some rock music. The first thing that popped into my head was, “Am I in the right theatre?” Unfortunately, I was. Marie Antoinette tells the story of the famous French queen who was known for her excessive spending and beheading during the French Revolution in 1793. It stars Kirsten Dunst as the immature 14-year-old Austrian Archduchess who marries into the French monarchy in order to bring peace to the two nations. Despite the political background, the movie itself mainly explores sex, money, and parties.
One of the main focuses in Marie Antoinette was the fact that Marie Antoinette did not have sex with her husband Louis-Auguste (Louis XVI) until seven years into their marriage. Even though the two were married, Marie Antoinette had to conceive in order to protect her place as the dauphine of France. Marie Antoinette tried many ways to seduce Louis without success. The “sex” scenes (obviously there isn’t much action going on because the movie is PG-13) were extremely awkward. It looked like Louis XVI had no idea what he was doing.
Marie Antoinette had a difficult time fitting in with the French court. Eventually her frustration began to build up and she started to throw lavish parties and buy expensive diamonds and clothes in order to fill the void in her loveless life. She surrounded herself with party girls and attended elite parties all around France. She also had a much needed love affair with Swedish Count Fersen who actually made her feel like a woman. Marie Antoinette also got sucked into gambling and, with the French aiding the American Revolution, the nation started to feel a strain on their finances. These events led to the French Revolution during which time the royal family was killed off. Nevertheless, the movie simply ends with Marie Antoinette and Louis having their usual lavish dinner and then exiting the palace.
Marie Antoinette is probably one of the worst movies I ever watched in my entire lifetime. It was nice that the producers tried to attract young audiences by taking the “cool” and “hip” approach, but the film was very disorganized and awkward. There were too many random scenes which jumped from one part of the movie to the other. Also, the ending was terrible. Oh, wait, there was no ending! The only thing I enjoyed about Marie Antoinette was the wardrobe and the beautiful French pastries that made me want to run to a gourmet bakery. Lucky for me, I got free tickets to see this movie or I would’ve started my own revolution.
ESCAPING REALITY
Critical Space
6/10
by Tori Burhans
Andrea Zittel is one of the most interesting and evolved artists of our generation, and I hadn’t heard of her until today. In fact, many people probably couldn’t place her name, but her ideas are ones we all share. She discusses escapism, suburbia, and the theory of what’s “normal,” using clothes, furniture, and a few drawings in a very minimalist setting.
The upstairs of the Albright-Knox gallery holds many of Zittel’s personal experiments. When you first walk into her exhibit, you see a massive block of tiny rooms and compartments. Entitled “A-Z Cellular Compartments,” these tiny rooms have all the functional tools that one would need in a bedroom. It is said to show the “suburban compartmentalization of space, time, and function.” She creates comfortable living situations using very little. If you continue walking around the exhibit, you find out that this is how the artist herself lives. She has even made the compartment style rooms for others. It’s an easy fix: apartments are small, and we don’t need very much to survive.
For “A-Z Escape Vehicles,” she asked other artists to think about what their dream retreat from the outside world would be. The Albright-Knox has two examples done by Andrea Rosen and Bob Schiffler. Though the two artists aren’t described, it’s easy to figure out what kind of person they both are. Rosen’s is a couch with books, wine and champagne, and a CD player with a variety of easy listening indie bands playing. Schiffler’s fantasy vehicle is a hot tub with a filter on the outside. Zittel has commissioned many of these “Escape Vehicles,” and each one is personalized for the person and each provides a way to get away from the harsh and stressful outside world.
In perhaps the most interesting experiment, Zittel documents seven days in which she did her grandest escape and created the “A-Z Time Trials.” For seven days, she attempted to alleviate stress and the outside world by blocking out all sense of time. The capsule, in essence, was her ultimate adventure and experiment. It was a way to treat time as a man-made plastic creation and to see what it would be like to have her own incomparable freedom.
Since Andrea Zittel creates functional experiments and lives her life by them, her life has turned into artwork. The exhibit is only a fraction of her goal to understand the way the world works and to defy many traditional values. The exhibit can only be viewed with the price of admission, which means it’s roped off during the free admission times on Fridays. However, it’s a small price to pay for something that both provokes discussion and challenges conventions.
BITCHES STILL AIN’T SHIT
Supersunnyspeedgraphic - Ben Folds
8/10
by Jason Smith
Some Ben Folds fans make the claim that the singer-songwriter has done for the piano pop song what Jimi Hendrix did for the rock guitar. While this analogy may enrage classic rock enthusiasts, no one can deny the man’s heartfelt vocal prowess or his sense of dead-pan, suburban-white-boy humor. His latest release, Supersunnyspeedgraphic, is a testament to his skill.
The piano-driven LP is a compilation of Folds’ Internet EPs, B-sides, covers, and a soundtrack appearance. Over the past three years, Ben Folds has released a string of Internet-only EP’s exclusively for fans entitled Super D, Sunny 16, and Speed Graphic. These are where the majority of the tracks for this album come from, so it doesn’t take Nancy Drew to figure out where the new album’s title originated. The tracks on this release are remastered and tweaked versions of previous releases. At times, this compiling can give a disjointed feel to the album. However, the piano-playing and songwriting is unmistakably Ben Folds’ style throughout.
The album opens with Ben Folds doing his best Robert Smith impression on The Cure cover track “In Between Days.” He does the song justice by adding some energy and enthusiasm to The Cure’s usual emo sound. Folds also takes the inflated machismo of The Darkness’ “Get Your Hands Off of My Woman,” and turns it into a frantic, high-pitched envy ballad, featuring a piano solo that showcases Folds hammering the ivories at both ends. The final cover is an unorthodox revamp of Dr. Dre’s hit off The Chronic, “Bitches Ain’t Shit.” Folds’ rendition of the misogynistic rap song can’t help but make you laugh at the absurdity of the indie star singing about the motherfuckin’ Compton streets.
“Rent a Cop” is another hilarious track about a mall cop patrolling for girls in the food court. He mocks the police with lines like, “I whisper through my donut, / ‘Hey baby baby, light that ass on fire.’” The song is classic Ben Folds humor, just like “All U Can Eat,” a funny-because-it’s-true social commentary on the excesses of modern American life. Talking to his son, he says, “Look at all the people in this restaurant / what do you think they weigh? / Look at their SUVs taking all of the space.”
With his elegant piano-playing and soft crooning, he is able to create some emotional works of art. One of Folds’ most powerful songs of heartbreak and true love to date is the dreamy, strings-laced single, “Still.” This melodious masterpiece ends the album, but not before fading into a chorus of “Bitches can’t hang with the streets.” I’ve found this an appropriate departure in most situations.
This album showcases the artistic range of Ben Folds and secures his place as one of the quirkiest talents in the indie scene. Give this eclectic mix of songs a listen; it’s worth your time, whether you’re a fan or a first-time listener. Ben Folds’ talent for creating imaginative and innovative material goes unparalleled.
HEY Y’ALL! WE JUST GOT A TIP!
Cold Stone Creamery
9/10
by Jack Niejadlik
A Cold Stone Creamery recently opened on Maple Road. For those who are unfamiliar, Cold Stone is a designer ice cream parlor which makes a killing on, essentially, mashing together ice cream and topping choices. Oh, and the staff will sing songs if you tip them out at the cash register. Dairy meets Broadway: If that’s not customer service, I don’t know what is.
One of Cold Stone’s trademarks is their clever labeling of dessert sizes on the menu. Remember small, medium and large? Well, put that familiar noise completely out of your mind. Instead, Cold Stone sizes come in “Like it,” “Love It,” and “Gotta Have It!” What’s so bad about that? Allow me to elaborate.
A typical Cold Stone experience starts with you walking through the doors in anticipation of a delicious, moderately-sized treat. You’re wrong, however, for thinking that a decent amount of ice cream is all that you’ll leave with. You’re dead wrong, every time. After you order, an employee will perk up and chirp, “Are you sure you want that size? Are you sure that you only like it? For just a couple dimes more you can upgrade and double that amount of ice cream...”
And you fall for their honesty. Sure, you are increasing the amount of ice cream that you are about to put into your body by 200 percent, but so what! It’s economical, and you don’t need a rocket physicist to tell you that. You feel that the workers are somehow doing you a personal favor, and you are genuinely appreciative. You upgrade.
I can barely ever finish the smallest size. It’s almost perfect because of that. As for the medium—forget about it. I’ve never finished it. Ever. The large? For Christ’s sake... show me someone who has “Gotta Have It” (with an appetite that only a bathtub-sized amount of ice cream can satiate) and, in turn, I’ll show you a perfect candidate for gastric bypass. Does it end with the ice cream? Fuck nope. After mashing up your abstract concoction, many of which only pregnant women with cravings and the starving homeless could find appetizing, you are asked what kind of bowl you’d like your sweetness served in: edible waffle, edible waffle dipped in chocolate, edible waffle dipped in chocolate and rolled in more shit like coconuts and sprinkles, or plain old styrofoam. “Yea, I’ll take mine in the edible bowl. Could you, by chance, dip the thing in batter and deep fry it for me while you’re at it?”
America just keeps getting fatter and fatter and fatter. I’m sure it doesn’t help the consumer who is actually trying to make this diet thing happen when behemoth portion sizes are only separated by a couple of cents. I can only guess that portions will continue to scale up in size along our waists. Hmm…all this ranting has made me hungry. See you at Cold Stone.
