Music For Music’s Sake
India.Arie at the CFA, September 19
9/10
by Lisa Strand
The Grammy Award-winning artist India Arie put on a magnificent performance Wednesday night, September 19, in the CFA. The concert was incredibly uplifting and refreshing. Many people were out of their seats dancing to Arie’s soul/R&B hits from her three albums.
The concert opened with Noa Bursie, a folk/blues artist with an acoustic guitar, who was amazingly talented at the finger-picking style of playing. Her voice was melodic and the lyrics were beautiful and poetic, as seen in lines like, “I drink you down like wine and savor the taste on my lips.” Noa is a University at Buffalo alumni and a proud Buffalo native. Her performance was powerful and captivating, and all eyes were on her as she strummed out bluesy music on her guitar.
I went into this concert not knowing a lot about India Arie except that she is a two-time Grammy winner with such hits such as “Video” and more recently “I Am Not My Hair,” featuring Akon. I had high expectations for this performance and I was absolutely delighted throughout the entire concert.
Opening with “Video,” she appeared in a bright orange, flowing dress. It was a very emotional concert. She dedicated the performance to a special fan in the audience who was going through tough times and also to Kevin Everett, the Buffalo Bills player, who has been making progress last week with his recovery from a spinal injury.
The majority of her concert was comprised of songs from her most recent album, Testimony: Vol. 1 Life & Relationships. Songs like “Good Mourning,” “I Choose,” and “Wings of Forgiveness” explained her feelings about her last relationship. India’s voice had a wide range, shifting between a deep alto to a breathy and clear soprano. Her songs were filled with feelings of power—her personal struggles have clearly led to profound realizations in her life, and she has the will to use words as an instrument of change.
Noa Bursie joined India in singing the inspiring song “True Colors,” during which India also played an entrancing flute solo. Throughout her songs, there was a very positive and relaxed performer-audience relationship that gave her courage to try out some newer “experimental” songs. She also prefaced the song “There’s Hope” with the inspiring speech of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Three harmony singers added to the rich tone of her stunning voice along with a full band that provided brilliant backup. The song “Heart of the Matter” incorporated the ultra-popular summer smash hit, “Umbrella” by Rihanna in a very artistic way, while “Come Back to the Middle” featured bits of Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy.”
India Arie, along with Noa Bursie, gave a superb performance. The end of the show included “Brown Skin” with a solo by the guitar player Blue. India’s encore had everyone standing and her last songs were the long awaited “I Am Not My Hair” and “Ready for Love.” All of the performers took a bow together and when the lights came up the audience was still giving a standing ovation.
Far From Lovable
Tell Me You Love Me
4/10
by Roger Chao
It is relatively cliché to nag and complain about the gratuitous sex on television these days. It’s there and we all know it—but we secretly enjoy this PC approach to pornography. Shock value is more important than a decent storyline because a sexy sneak peek in a commercial gets the ratings up. HBO’s new series Tell Me You Love Me is overflowing with obscene outtakes, but barely anything in the plot supports this amount of raunchiness. TMYLM will leave you feeling like you do after an unfulfilling one night stand: ashamed, disillusioned, and mildly insecure about your manhood.
What’s TMYLM’s biggest problem? It’s flat and boring. There’s truly not enough happening in the show to stifle the viewer’s yawns. It doesn’t even hit you with the tingly adrenaline of a good nudy flick. The storyline revolves around three conflicted couples, all struggling to keep their marriages intact. Their marital squabbles range from petty arguments to trouble in the bedroom. Much of the show is shot from a bystander’s point of view, in a heavy-breathing, Peeping Tom kind of way. You can see coitus from a distance, but you just can’t get close enough to get any real satisfaction.
The sex scenes leave something to be desired. Due to the voyeuristic style of the camerawork, it can make one feel sleazy and overall uncomfortable watching a man and a woman awkwardly grind on each other for an unexpectedly long minute and a half. The absence of a backtrack also means there is no masking the grunts and moans, so you’re left feeling strangely embarrassed for everyone involved in the situation.
This kind of cinematography also creates a barrier between the characters and the audience, never letting us really empathize with their problems. Without the ability to identify, what can really make us care what happens to their relationships, teetering on the brink of failure?
Another drawback is the lack of background music or detectable soundtrack. A good music sequence does wonders in wooing audiences and can make or break a scene. This makes for extremely slow character and plot development. Though some may argue that the show is trying to be as “real” as possible without imposing false film-making techniques, they forget that abundant sexuality is really a phony, translucent “technique.” Seeing a middle-aged couple argue about marriage counseling is no way to spend an evening. If you wouldn’t want to see it in real life, why would you want to watch it on TV? Hearing these couples bicker over meaningless things will surely bring back your own personal memories of failed relationships. After one episode, it’s hard to imagine anyone ever wanting to date again. The future looks pretty grim.
TMYLM tries to be shocking and provocative, but there are shows already out that are doing it better. If you plan on watching the next episode, I recommend you don’t do it with a friend or a family member. Otherwise, be prepared for an hour of awkward silence and nervous chuckles.
Want Some Weed With Your Pudding?
Nice Peter and Anal Pudding at Broadway Joe’s, September 18
8/10
by Cristiano Agostino
Older than the Constitution, harder hitting than an oil-chugging SUV, and more mesmerizing than late night televangelists, few things are as truly American as the time honored tradition of profanity-laden, politically incorrect humor. This past Tuesday, September 18, the clientele of Broadway Joe’s had a chance to combine their beer and a side of excellent fries with two of the most acclaimed flag-holders of America’s favorite cultural pastime: Buffalo’s own Anal Pudding and Chicago’s deranged “chanteur” Nice Peter.
I should say almost Anal Pudding, as I was informed upon my arrival that the scatologically-fixated outfit could not make it to the show in its entirety, due to undisclosed causes. Bass player Brown Note, guitarist Colonel Lingus, and former drummer Flamingo Starchild took to the stage to entertain a small, but enthusiastic group of fans with a half hour of inspired jamming.
Brown Note’s acrobatic, funk-fueled playing style set the mood, carrying the other two members into a churning cauldron of rock, hard funk and pop, slipping in more atmospheric interludes between songs. Anal Pudding left the audience with gems such as “Chappy Rabadoo,” and the bluesy “Maggot Brain.”
The last notes were just about wearing off when a tall guy, his eyes darting around the room, hastily set up an acoustic guitar and toy keyboards, and politely pleaded to the crowd to bear with him for a few more minutes while he grabbed something to drink. Offstage, the wild entertainer, renowned for making a joke out of everyone and everything, “Tenacious D on a Weezer kick,” looks like a random, slightly embarrassed college student before a job interview. Doesn’t sound quite right, does it? Thankfully, all my doubts were quickly vanquished once “Nice” Peter Shukoff finally climbed onto the stage to deliver exactly what we expected: a hell of a show.
He is wild beyond every expectation. In the music comedy world, it gets harder and harder to be funny and keeping a joke running for more than five minutes can become a monumental, doomed effort. Nice Peter seems to have all the assets to become a household name, and from the moment he delivered the first lines of the generational hymn “Smoke That Weed,” the crowd could not help being sucked into his whirlwind of words and sound.
The notes are ornamental —the real focus is Peter’s nonchalant rambling, and from the start, he took no prisoners. Rap-smacking (“50 Cent is a Pussy”), Bush-bashing (“The Bush Song”), and dedicating odes to the average college kid’s everyday concerns (“Mystery of the Clit,” “I Quit,You Fat Mother Fucker”), Nice Peter loudly laughs in the face of political correctness, modesty, and general common decency. He even found the time to bestow some of his vitriol on the venue just before closing the night with the anthem “Porn Star,” and bidding goodbye to a thrilled crowd.
Forget Tenacious D and, as far as I’m concerned, even Weezer. Nice Peter is the real thing, a truly talented artist who will surely open your ears to the marvels of the world in which we live, or at least let you have a good laugh at them.
Piff for Pirates
www.datpiff.com
7.5/10
by Rayshon Higgins
The freedoms of living off campus are fairly unrestricted, but the one thing that I truly miss is DC++. In the dorms or apartments, I could download songs in seconds, and movies in minutes, but because UB slowed VPN connections to a crawl, denying off-campus users high quality speeds, commuters now have to pay to use the downloading software. Those faced with paying for slow campus connections, commuters (and everyone else) can take full advantage of the up-and-coming free music website, datpiff.com.
Though the name can be misleading, Datpiff is a website centered on providing some of the hottest underground (and mainstream) music. They mainly focus on hip-hop and R&B. Because underground artists face greater challenges getting their music heard, Datpiff gives them the rare opportunity of worldwide exposure through CD compilations. These collections, also known as mixtapes, are promotional devices used by artists to get recognized by record labels and/or to create a buzz before the release of their album. Downloading is free because mixtapes are simply promotional albums composed of the works of various artists, and they are not for sale. Datpiff.com does not give access to official albums, only mixtapes.
With nearly 7,000 CDs available, finding music is made easy through the ability to search music by mixtape name, artist, DJ, best rated, and newest entry, just to name a few. Album covers are posted with the mixtapes, allowing for smoother searches. Finding a server may pose a problem—with millions of files downloaded daily, the servers tend to be full. Entering busy servers can sometimes take up to three minutes, but it’s part of the unstated price you pay for free music. If the wait is too long or downloading is out of the question, Datpiff allows users to stream the mixtape without any delays.
There are some limitations, however, so don’t get too carried away. All basic users and guests are limited to only one download every 15 minutes. Users can receive greater access to the site by registering for a Premium account for the price of $1.99 for a week, $4.99 for a month, $25 biannually, and $50 for one year of access. Datpiff makes it known that the fees are only to maintain servers and pay for bandwidth costs. Premium users have fewer limits, faster download speeds, and full support and service.
The colorful, creatively decorated website also features daily news feeds with the latest hip-hop and R&B news, personal blogs available for all users, and forums to discuss any and every topic regarding the hip-hop music scene.
Without clogging your PC or having the Recording Industry Association of America breathing down your neck, Datpiff is the place for pirates. Aside from the busy servers and limited download slots, Datpiff is indeed that piff.
Pick Up This Album Even If It Kills You
Motion City Soundtrack - Even If It Kills Me
8/10
by Jon Zelasko
When Motion City Soundtrack first arrived on the scene with their first LP, I Am The Movie, their brand of quirky pop-punk sounded relatively new and original. As of late, this playful musical style has become ever so overdone, consequently forcing Motion City Soundtrack to sink to the bottom of the ocean and out of our zone of interest. Au contraire, mon frere. Their buoyant sound, complimented by lead singer Justin Pierre’s signature voice and their use of energetic synthesizers, still proves to be a uniquely enjoyable experience.
“I Fell In Love Without You,” from their new record Even If It Kills Me blares through the speakers with Pierre’s distinctive vocals and lighthearted melodies. The song’s lyrics draw their inspiration from unrequited love: “Last night I fell in love without you / I waved goodbye to that heart of mine / beating solo on your lawn.” Despite the sullen lyrical content, the song is structured in such a playful manner that you bounce along with it anyways.
Much of the same can be said about “Broken Heart,” one of the best songs on Even If It Kills Me, featuring the forlorn lyrics, “I’ll destroy this useless heart / I’ll fuck it up so it will never beat again / Not just for me but for anyone.” Such a discrepancy between lyrics and music could feel awkward, like you’re having too much fun at a funeral, but Motion City makes it work in a way that sets the lyrics up to be even more effective and the music to seem weightless and fun.
Not all of their songs are delivered in that smile-through-the-sorrow style. “Antonia” is whimsical and effervescent in both style and lyrical composition, featuring lines like “She shaves her legs with Ginksu knives / She’s what’s keeping me alive.” “The Conversation” slows it down and leaves the rhythm section out for a piano-driven, Ben Folds-channeling two minutes and fifty seconds of absolute glory.
Even If It Kills Me is probably the most fully realized Motion City Soundtrack album. From start to finish, the songs entice you to have a good time, or be truly moved at their subtle, poignant beauty. The melodic vocal hooks are delivered brilliantly by Pierre, and there are plenty of them. Motion City Soundtrack has the ability to gain mainstream success in the US.
The middle-aged members aren’t likely to become teen heartthrobs of the music industry, but in some ways that’s even better. They can continue to evolve without the extreme pressures of fame. Tickets to their shows won’t be sold out, and what a show it will be if it’s anything like this album.
Mallrat to Metropolitan
Metropark Clothing Store
4/10
by Emily de Beer
Metropark, a high end clothing boutique, is a beacon of the Walden Galleria’s efforts to offer fine retail and the latest fashion trends. They seem to be in the process of creating the ultimate “metropolitan” shopping experience.
As I entered the store, a flat screen to my left played a music video by The Killers. I noticed a window display of predominantly black ensembles complete with vests, studs and fedoras, which made me a bit apprehensive, considering I am neither Humphrey Bogart, nor a cowboy. After shuffling around, I settled on a table on the women’s side and picked up a graphic T-shirt, which was frighteningly sheer but not priced as such ($49). Just then, an adorable store clerk named Brad with a tattoo-covered arm introduced himself and began to help me find my European size in a pair of Mek Denim jeans ($139).
I continued to navigate through the sea of skulls, studs, rhinestones, and graphic tees covered in splatter paint patterns and phrases so random that not even the designers know what they mean. On the men’s side, the prices were equally dismal—a thin button-down shirt was priced at $79. As a comparative shopper, I carefully noted that Amvets offers a similar product for no more extravagant a price than $2.79. There were also short-sleeved plaid button-downs, reminiscent of the neo-nerd style resurrected by Weezer.
Their accessories, a huge selection of hats, aviators, chains, and oversized rings, were available to both men and women, and roamed somewhere within the optimistic range of $10 to $30 (excluding the uber pricey lines from Betsey Johnson and Tarina Tarantino). I noticed motifs of hardcore skulls and guns as well as ghetto fabulous microphones and tape cassettes, giving a shout out to the ‘80s birth of hip hop.
After grabbing a Be Ethic leather bomber jacket (priced at a surprisingly reasonable $79) and forgoing a Harajuku Lovers tee, I entered the fitting room. As Pete Wentz watched me change from a flat screen TV, I asked Brad if they carried short fitted jeans. He told me they didn’t in most brands, but he could grab me the ones they did have in a short size. Naturally, they were more expensive. He kindly informed me of Metropark’s policy of offering a 10% discount with Chayban’s tailoring, located in the mall near Macy’s. I have to pay for alterations on jeans that already cost $139? Looks like I had found my “metropolitan” shopping experience after all. “Chayban’s is usually good,” Brad said. “They cut my True Religions down in like, twenty-five minutes.”
Metropark’s clothes are heavily embellished and over-conceptualized. The store showcases kitschy, head-to-toe outfits that are begging for a trendy tattooed body to fill them. I think I’d be willing to shell out the cash for one or two unique pieces but my ultimate advice is don’t over-do it, or you could wind up looking like a tool in a studded fedora and equally studded Ed Hardy shirt.
Philly Still Funny
It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia
7/10
by Joe LiButti
It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia is an F/X sitcom that follows the misadventures of a group of friends who own and operate an Irish pub. The characters are utterly contemptible, vain, self-serving, malicious, genuinely awful people—and they couldn’t be funnier. In spite of all their flaws, it’s easy to find yourself cheering them on, a true feat for protagonists who will stoop to any level to reap the slightest reward (often nothing more than to revel in their superiority to another member of “the gang”). In previous years, we’ve seen them take up crack for welfare money, attend an abortion rally to pick up women, and fake being handicapped.
Season three kicks off with the aptly titled episode, “The Gang Finds a Dumpster Baby.” They do, in fact, find one, and as one would expect they almost immediately attempt to exploit him as a child star. While as a whole this episode was a bit weaker than the one that followed it, particularly hampered by a subplot involving Charlie (Charlie Day) and Frank (Danny DeVito) becoming hobos, its conclusion was still the funniest moment of the hour.
I should mention that F/X, for whatever reason, has decided to continue with their bizarre practice of airing two new half-hour episodes back to back each week, which means they’ll probably burn through the season by about the end of October.
In the second episode of the night, Mac (Rob McElhenny), Dennis (Glenn Howerton), and Dee (Kaitlin Olson) try to best each other at open tryouts for the Philadelphia Eagles, while Frank tricks Charlie into taking acid with him as they tailgate. Charlie’s reactions continue to account for some of the show’s more memorable moments, as in when he learns of Frank’s trick—“Is that what all those little papers floating in my beer were?! I drank all those!!”
These were two fairly solid episodes, and while they don’t quite reach the heights hit by every episode of the second season, they don’t miss by much. One aspect they can afford to tone down is the encounters with the McPoyles, a family of disgusting, incestuous freaks who have it out for Charlie. After all, your antagonists have to be utterly deplorable when the primary characters are such assholes, and if there’s one thing we can be sure of, it’s that they won’t be changing their ways any time soon.
Things can and often do go as poorly for them as for the innocents that blunder into the path of their destruction, but they remain ignorant of the very notion that there’s a lesson to be learned. It’s Always Sunny is a comedy that’s not to be missed. Unfortunately, given its compressed season, that’s not hard to do, so start watching it now because it will be over before you know it!
Serial Killer Next Door
Dexter Season Two
9/10
by Tara Sullivan
Dexter has murdered dozens—including his own brother. Every one of his victims was systematically stripped naked, tied down to a surface with cellophane, and drugged, only to wake up in terror at the hands of a murderer. Then, all their sins—pedophilia, manslaughter, human trafficking, among others—are described to them so all their guilt can well up before their final moments. Sliced up like butcher meat, their bodies are then carefully wrapped up in garbage bags and weighted, so they sink to the depths of the ocean off the coast of Miami.
Dexter, a runaway hit on Showtime, based on Jeff Lindsay’s Dexter novels, begins another gore-filled season on September 30. Last season, we left Dexter (Michael C. Hall of Six Feet Under) doing what he does best: slicing and dicing in the name of morality—he only kills those who deserve it—while charming the pants off his girlfriend Rita and performing his daily duties as a blood splatter specialist for the Miami police department. An amicable guy, Dexter kept his urge to kill well hidden under a façade of politeness and normalcy—until now.
Season one left him settling in nicely with his girlfriend Rita (Julie Benz) and her children, doing away with the “Ice Truck Killer” (his brother, also a serial murderer) and impressing his coworkers, including his sister Deborah (Emily Rose’s Jennifer Carpenter), with his intuitiveness at crime scenes (I wonder why?). Now, despite his seemingly flawless murdering ritual, things aren’t looking too good for Dexter.
To spare any specific spoilers (episodes one and two leaked online this month), Dexter has begun to slip up in the slaughtering department, a lot. One of his victims, a blind voodoo priest who was poisoning his clients, managed to escape his fate and run away, leaving Dexter unsure of his once impeccable skill. Because of his harried, rushed mannerisms, people become suspicious of Dexter’s strange behavior, namely Sergeant Doakes (Erik King). Doakes, one of Miami’s finest, always thought Dexter was weird, but now he thinks there’s a reason to monitor Dexter’s every move.
Things look even more dismal than when treasure divers discover Dexter’s mass grave—evidence for every murder he has performed.
With a shocker like that in the first episode, Dexter proves once again to dazzle viewers with one-of-a-kind suspense that very few TV shows are offering today. If you haven’t already, catch up with season one and get ready for a bloodbath.
The Circus is Back
World/Inferno Friendship Society –
Addicted to Bad Ideas
7/10
by Patrick Dowd
Known for their ability to use a slew of instruments ranging from the accordion to the saxophone to a five-string electric bass, the World/Inferno Friendship Society is back with a new full length album. Addicted to Bad Ideas is the follow up to their 2006 release Red Eyed Soul, which was nothing short of a masterpiece. Can their newest release stand up to the magnificence of Red Eyed Soul?
When I read about Addicted to Bad Ideas, I realized it was a concept album, revolving around the life of internationally renowned Austrian film sensation Peter Lorre—odd, but absolutely fitting for this punk-cabaret band. Their style is often reminiscent of a mix of the music of Peter Lorre’s time, the early and mid-twentieth century, and contemporary music.
With a great sense of curiosity, I began to listen. The album opens up with an instrumental orchestration, featuring snippets of later songs and aptly named “Peter Lorre Overture.” I was itching for the fast, loud, epic sounds of World/Inferno. The overture was lengthy, but just when I thought they failed miserably, every excess of sound dropped out, leaving only the strings playing swiftly. The drums, horns, bass, and guitar all kicked in at the same time.
World/Inferno loses a little steam through the next three slow songs, but still incorporates a vast amount of instruments. These new creations are different, but are far from the party that was Red Eyed Soul. “Ich Erinnere Mich An Die Weimarer Republik” (“I Remember the Weimar Republic,” a reference to when Peter Lorre left Germany for America) picks up the slack with a rapid horn and piano lead. You can’t help but bounce to this Deutschland single.
“Heart Attack ‘64,” an inaccuracy on the biographical side, since Peter Lorre died of a stroke in 1964, not a heart attack, is one of the few exceptionally impressive slow songs. The clarinet makes for a beautiful soft finish to close out this concept-derived compendium. The chorus makes you want to sing, “What a wonderful-wonderful-wonderful-wonderful world” along with the lead singer Jack Terricloth. This is an excellent example of their ability to turn beautiful cabaret songs into loud, thrashing punk songs.
Addicted to Bad Ideas cannot live up to the hard-edged Red Eyed Soul, but it is far from poor. If you are looking for something fun, fast-paced, and different, pick up Addicted to Bad Ideas, and who knows—maybe you’ll learn a little something about an Austrian actor who died way before you were born.
Who said the Ol’ Western was dead?
3:10 to Yuma
9/10
by Abel Germosen
John Wayne’s gun smoke-filled epics have little appeal to this generation of moviegoers, but 3:10 to Yuma proves that there is still a pulse in this neglected genre. Like the dark and conflicted heroes of old, this film succeeds in capturing audiences with the same exploration of divergent forces. 3:10’s conflicting characters blur the lines between good and evil. Bravery and cowardice become only a matter of which scene you are watching. Fast paced action, emotional suspense, and great performances all around make this a must-see for all film aficionados.
3:10 to Yuma tells the intertwined stories of Ben Wade, portrayed by Russell Crowe, and Dan Evans, played by Christian Bale. Wade is a stagecoach-robbing, gun-slinging outlaw with an entire gang at his disposal, and Evans is a humble, one-legged rancher who has seen better days. These foils are brought together when a crew is assembled to escort Wade to a train that will ultimately deliver the outlaw to jail. A gauntlet comprised of Wade’s gang and hostile Apache Indians await this bunch en route to Yuma. These two characters’ personalities are thrust into situations so tense that you can feel time slowing down to 3:10, the time of the train’s arrival.
Christian Bale and Russell Crowe play their characters with ease, as does the rest of the cast. The most haunting performance belongs to Ben Foster (X-Men: The Last Stand), who plays Charlie Prince, Wade’s chillingly trigger-happy second in command. Looking more like a hairy woman than an outlaw, I’m pretty sure that Foster’s portrayal will have you as freaked out as I was. Logan Lerman (The Number 23) plays his despicable character, William Evans, son of Dan Evans, so believably that you will want to strangle him as the movie progresses.
The excellent video quality takes away from the grittiness of the era. The grainy video quality of most old Westerns added to the feel of the movie. Trust me, though—this is a movie you do not want to miss. James Mangold’s 3:10 to Yuma is sure to keep audiences at the edge of their seats with its fluid progression and powerful suspense. Mangold characterizes the old recurring themes of nobility and cowardice, making this film an excellent re-introduction to the Western genre for a new generation of moviegoers who are used to less substance.
