Qui Fait Pop
Liars at the Tralf 2/7/08
8/10
by Peter Scheck
Liars, who played at the Tralf Thursday night, are fronted by a man with shoulder-length hair and a beard, sometimes jogging in place, sometimes shaking his face around, always dancing. The band’s music warrants no less.
Their newest record Liars is part dance record, part rocker. Every song could have its own extensively choreographed dance, and it would look great, but no one would be able to learn it. Liars goes from headbanging distortion to droning, stressed-out guitars in the course of a track. Their song “Houseclouds,” with its lazy fuzz bassline and lo-fi bouncing synth melody, would be right in place on Beck’s Odelay, while the album’s closer “Protection” is a slow organ-driven croon. “When you close your eyes / I don’t need protection.” The band is agile.
They played songs from that album, and from Drum’s Not Dead, the band’s mega-acclaimed 2006 album which sounds like what psychedelic drugs feel like. Drum’s was recorded in some sort of church or something in Berlin, a space the band liked for recording their drum tones. On that album, a record where the drums are the band, you can almost see the recording bounce off the walls of the studio. Only it doesn’t sound like a studio, it’s somewhere between a dark graveyard and an airport runway.
If anything, though the sound was thrillingly tight, I couldn’t help but think about how awkward the band looked playing onstage. Liars, with their floor full of pedals and practically Nordic percussion sections, looked like they might be much more comfortable playing offstage, in the middle of a dark basement lit with flashlights. Not that the band isn’t about performance, but it seems inappropriate to have such a freak-out band playing away from people rather than submerged in them.
I’ve tried to understand my recent fascination with this band, and it comes down to the fun-factor; Liars look like a sweet bunch of dudes. Their video for “Houseclouds” features a shirtless, gold-necklaced Angus Andrews singing the band’s newest single while playing with a black and white kitten. Another video features a drum head rolling around an apartment like a spare tire, and the members of the band suspended in mid-jump with stop-animation. Andrews, in this video, mischievously loses his pants. I’m helpless.
The band’s newest album Liars is a less concept-based album that focuses more on being anti-Drum’s than most anything else. But it also sounds really great live. “Plaster Casts of Everything,” a candidate for loudest song ever, was a highlight of the set, partially because it sounds completely different from their other songs. Then again, it’s less engaging to see the band play a song like that as opposed to one of the more instrumentally demanding pieces from Drum’s. There are a lot of instruments on the stage, and when you get to see the band really play them, it’s a treat. Maybe I was just excited to see two drummers at once.
Liars does a lot of the two-drummers-at-once thing, mainly on songs from Drum’s where Aaron Hemphill stands up from the keyboard in favor of a snare and symbol. The result is every bit as exciting as the drums in a St. Patrick’s Day parade. Liars have a percussive sound that can often sound less like beats and more like melodies, less like marching and more like…well…slow-dancing.
“The Other Side of Mt. Heart Attack,” one of the band’s few vocally-driven pieces on Drum’s, was like a lullaby. Angus Andrews drawls “If won’t run far / I can always be found / I will stay by your side / And I want you to find me.” The band plays slow behind him. He finishes the song with a promise—“I can always be found in Buffalo.” Probably a lie, but one that everyone got a little giddy to hear.
Supernaut booking has a full schedule of music coming to three different venues this spring. You can consider this my suggestion to you.
Myspace.com/supernautbooking.
What Good is Being Appreciated if No One is Naked?
27 Dresses
7/10
by Lisa Strand
There is something about wedding movies that makes even the most feminine of girls think twice. 27 Dresses stars Katherine Heigl as Jane— always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Taking her responsibilities to the extreme, Jane is the ultimate assistant in bridal needs, while still maintaining her job at an eco-friendly, fashion magazine. Oh, and she’s crazy in love with her long-time boss, George (Edward Burns). When her whirlwind, carefree sister, Tess (Malin Akerman), comes to town, she steals George’s heart right from under Jane. Although she is the complete opposite of what George is looking for, she tricks him into falling for her. Distraught, Jane can only look on, while her baby sister cons the man she loves.
Chick flick veteran James Marsden (The Notebook) plays Kevin, a journalist hoping to get out of the “Commitments” section of the paper. Marsden is so overly charming, it may even be too much for a chick movie. After spending time with Jane while planning the rush wedding, Kevin becomes intrigued by her. Following a drunken discussion about Jane’s reputation as a pushover, the doormat herself comes to her senses in time to completely humiliate Tess, and destroy her wedding in front of the entire party. What Jane doesn’t know, soon comes to light. Kevin has written an article on “plain Jane,” who has been in 27 weddings and never been the bride, which he didn’t intend for publication. You can guess what happens next. Feeling betrayed, Jane vows never to speak to him again.
So a guy meets a girl, the girl rejects him, he persists with unrealistic gestures of love and devotion, and finally, she gives him a chance. With 27 Dresses you already know what you’re paying for, so you might as well strap in, and enjoy the romantic rollercoaster of predictability. If you’re still not satisfied, you can definitely count on some intricate conflicts, and of course, hideous bridesmaid dresses! This is definitely not something you take your heterosexual, male friends to see, but if you want to have a wine and movie night with the girls, it’s much better than the mind-numbing Meet the Spartans, or the bloody carnage of Rambo. 27 Dresses doesn’t disappoint in comedic value. The laugh-out-loud, embarrassing moments, and old-fashioned sexual innuendo will get you through some additional corny scenes. Director Anne Fletcher put together a collage of scenery that made this NYC romantic comedy look posh and fabulous. Whether it was the make-up, hair, or the awesomely hilarious bridesmaid dresses, the entire film was neatly put together in a sophisticated manner.
Before you write this off, remember that the reason you go to the movies is to be entertained. If Katherine Heigl screaming “motherfucker!” stark in the middle of a stranger’s fiftieth wedding anniversary isn’t entertaining, I don’t know what is. The happy union of Kevin and Jane is far from a surprise ending, and we can safely assume that they lived quite happily ever after (at least in the world of make believe).
If Only it Was...
59 Seconds (DVD)
5/10
by Kason Polanski
It’s February and you know what that means…Yes, Black History Month is upon us, but it also means that Valentine’s Day is looming over the horizon and opening up opportunities to further connect with your loved ones, or finally confess your love to the girl of your dreams. For those that blow off Valentine’s Day, I present you with 59 Seconds, an adult film that delivers mixed results, and some solid entertainment for those who only need 59 seconds.
59 Seconds stars Savanna Samson as Kim, a woman who was involved in some sort of unexplained event that lands her hot, naked body on an operating table, teetering on the brink of life and death. Kim is guided by Gabriel (Lee Garland), who explains that Savanna is trapped in the “Cerebral Net,” another dimension where people can act out their deepest desires before their ultimate fate is determined. Sex and fatal diseases have always given me a boner. As Gabriel describes the murky concept of the “Cerebral Net,” we are pitted against a horrifying scene of vaginal hair removal. I couldn’t help but flinch at the possibility of a razor cut. Furthermore, the reason for Kim’s situation is never explained, nor did I care much about her severe brain trauma. Though, I did wonder whether or not nipple rings should be taken out before defibrillating someone. Forget common sense, Kim is portrayed as nothing but a dirty little whore that not only likes her sex, but also seems to like watching others in the act, while eating ice cream— and that’s how we like her.
Enough about the plot though; you watch porn for the sex, and this is where the film suffers from a bad case of misdirection. The opening sex scene revolves around three girls as they act out a classic lesbian locker-room threesome. It definitely ups the ante from the previous shaving abomination, and you would hope sets the tone for what follows. Unfortunately, the four sex sequences thereafter fail to live up to the locker room’s standard, and overstay their welcome, while stuck in monotony and confusion. As the numbers of males and females increase and decrease, respectively, in each following scene, you get a real sense of chaos and impending doom. The men scramble around trying to figure out what to do next, left behind to fend for themselves—ill at ease, and butt-naked. In the last scene Savanna takes on four men at once, which somehow serves as more of a turn off than anything else; as if we were turned on by the previous sausage-fest. Clocking in at over thirty minutes, you will probably end up fast-forwarding it just to see the fate of the beloved protagonist, Savanna’s vagina.
What Vivid Entertainment delivers with 59 Seconds is a combination of bad story, lifeless characters, and only a handful of decent sex over the course of its nearly three hour runtime. Savanna Samson fans will find a lot to like, and those just looking to get a quick thrill will surely find some solid entertainment in the first two three-ways.
J-Don't! A Jewish Dating Site Gone Wrong
J.Date.com
4/10
by Dana Rosenwasser
Maybe it was boredom that made me do it, or maybe it was the constant complaints of my overbearing Israeli mother to “find a nice Jewish boy.” But I joined JDate—a Jewish dating site—to find my Jewish prince charming. After three years as a member, I have learned the ins and outs of the Internet dating world and all I can say is that I’m glad the account was free. If I get asked one more time to show my boobs on a webcam so some disgusting old man can rub one out to them, then I may just sue.
JDate is an Internet dating website for twenty-first century Jews. What makes it unique from other dating sites is its focus on connecting Jewish people of all ages, ethnicities and affiliations. You can find Middle Eastern Jews, British Jews, Black Jews, Hasidic Jews and people who aren’t even Jewish. Believe it or not, there are members of this site who are, in fact, not Jewish at all and have no desire to convert to Judaism. This can cause distress to members whose parents only accept partners of the Jewish faith into their family. My mother, for example, will only accept my potential boyfriend if he is Jewish. Well, maybe she can make an exception if he’s filthy rich.
If you are still tempted, JDate has two options—a free account and a paid one for $35 a month. The latter enables you to communicate freely with paying as well as non-paying members. Paying members enjoy access to an instant messaging service. It acts like an AOL Instant Messenger, so you can contact anyone you want despite their type of account. Paying members can message non-paying, but not the other way around. One great feature about this service is the option for the receiver to accept or decline a message. So if a fifty-seven-year old man from the United Kingdom tries to message you, you can simply click “no” and avoid him altogether.
For those who do not want to pay, but still want to get in on the hot Jewish action there are several ways to cheat the system. Many users try to include their AOL Instant Messenger screen names in their profile by strategically placing the letters “I” and “M” throughout the screen name. Unfortunately, moderators usually get wise and revise the screen name.
To seduce the member of your choice, add them to your “hot list.” You can also use the “Click” option, similar to an elementary school note. This appears as a little heart next to the profile asking, “Do you think you would click?” The choices are respectively yes, no, and maybe. If you click “Yes,” the member will immediately be notified that you clicked on them and if they reciprocate the “Yes,” you become a “Match.” After that, it’s all a matter of playing the waiting game.
In my attempts at attracting men with a free account, I have always been blessed with consistent messages from men with pictures that do more than bend the truth. Imagine admiring a well-dressed, tall and handsome man from afar. After chatting with him for about a couple of weeks you finally end up meeting him to discover a dirty, slack-jawed thirty-year-old still living with his parents. Doesn’t sound too romantic, does it?
Among the all the interesting men I’ve encountered thus far, it was the horny Israeli man who was the most memorable. One cold Buffalo night, my friend and I were stuck in the dorms and boredom caused me to log on. All of a sudden, the sound of a message came through and this balding, overweight Israeli man, who lived in Israel, wanted to start talking to me. We had some fun with the poor guy because he was clearly crazy. To prove it, I’ll even give you a sample of the dialogue: “Dana you so hot, I want to split your breast with my seed. I want you lose your virgin with my cock. I want marry you and make sex with you all my life.” The resulting conversation had us rolling on the floor with laughter. To share this experience with my fellow perverted friends, I posted the conversation on my MySpace page. Time passed and the inevitable discovery happened; my father Googled my name and my MySpace appeared. Needless to say, I was fucked like a Jew on Christmas.
The truth of JDate is (and I apologize in advance to all you Jews for busting up your spot) that Jews young and old are all freaks. I mean, they’re dirty like Christina Aguilera. I have been asked so many times for pictures of my breasts, and have received enough cock pictures to make myself a vivid and colorful scrapbook. Maybe it’s not just Jews, though. If people of other races who are reading this can attest to the sexual openness of their own cultures, then feel free to write into Generation and say, “Wait a minute, Dana Rosenwasser, the people of Latvia are sexually crazy, too!” If cock pictures were currency, I would be a rich ass girl right now!
The bottom line of all religious dating sites is this; if your parents can’t accept you for who are, they really don’t love you. If they threaten to disown you for marrying outside your race (I’m talking to you, mom) then they really don’t want what’s best for you. The great thing about America is that we are free to explore our sexualities with people of all different backgrounds. The truth is, however, that the concept of a prince charming is a fallacy and it is especially hard to find the man of your dreams when you have to narrow your search down to just one race, let alone religion.
I’ve been on JDate for three years and I still haven’t found that rich Jewish doctor who will put a Tiffany’s ring on my finger and whisk me away to Long Island in his BMW. Sigh, I might have to try a different strategy, or maybe just a different website.
Not Just a Memory
The Notorious B.I.G. - March 9
9/10
by Howie Kahn
Biggie Smalls has been gone for many years, but his reputation lives on, and so does his music. March 9 is a Collector’s Edition release, titled after the day he was shot down almost 11 years ago. It is an album filled with remixes of his most popular hit songs. Many of today’s big rappers are featured on remixes by people who want to show their respect for the deceased veterans of the rap world. Eminem, Jay-Z, and Nas all bring B.I.G. back to life through the display of their talents. Blending their skills with his timeless hits, they revive the very essence of the Biggie era. There are tracks that feature Tupac and Big L, big name rap stars that were also shot down, and had their voices taken away from them.
The first song on March 9 is a remix of “Suicidal Thoughts,” over the beat to Jay-Z’s “Renegade.” “Suicidal Thoughts” is his down-home, dirty jam, which talks about his youth and his true nature. His flow is legendary—so hard and grimy, no one can duplicate it. “Going Back to Cali” is laid against a slow, dragging beat, much different from its original. “Dead Wrong Remix” follows the same footsteps, outlining his voice in a way that echoes its intensity. When he spit the verse “hail marry full of grace,” they changed it up to Tupac’s “Hail Mary,” a strategic placement, and a smart one. Eminem’s part in “Dead Wrong” is an early one, flashing back to his craziest and nastiest lyrics ever. This song is so old school that it’s up-lifting, and hilarious. The “Things Done Changed Memory Lane Remix” is a spin on a classic Nas song off of one of the greatest rap albums of all time, Illmatic. One of the songs that will stand out on March 9 is “Deadly Combination.” It features three of the greatest rappers of all time— Biggie, Tupac, and Big L. The song does not disappoint. My favorite is, “Who Shot Biggie Smalls?” Diddy took the beat from my favorite artist, Dead Prez’s hit, “Hip Hop,” and a line from the song, and made it into the chorus. The result is sick.
These days many dead artists suffer the fate of exploitation. While their unreleased material makes it into a new album or a remix, their music is exploited, and their reputation tarnished by those who know true talent, but do not have it. Instead of honoring the artists, they use their image to make money. March 9 pays tribute to the late, great Notorious B.I.G. Diddy took some of Biggie’s best songs (he couldn’t possibly take them all), and changed them in a way that exalted Biggie Smalls, instead of diminishing his role in the music-making process. I dare not say they are better than the original songs, but they are damn good.
Will You Marry Me?
Lenny Kravitz - It Is Time fo a Love Revolution
8/10
by Elina Vaysbeyn
Musicians who are modern legends are harder to find than a fat kid on a racetrack. Who do we even consider “legendary” anymore? What criteria do they need to fill? There are some big shoes that walked through the music world in the last five or six decades, and we are still awe-struck at their talent. Lately, it’s the low-key prodigies that really pierce our souls with their lyrics and their music. Lenny Kravitz has been missing in action since 2004, and before that, he rocked our worlds with songs that were almost life-changing. At the very least, they shook up the pop culture medium. This chiseled, hard-bodied, spiritual, afro-Jew is back with his album It Is Time for a Love Revolution to lure us out off the primrose path of crass frivolity. I heard he won’t even have sex again until he’s married. But why, Lenny? Didn’t you get the love letters I sent?
His music seems to have matured since “American Woman,” and “Are You Gonna Go My Way,” taking on a more serious dialogue with his listeners, and also with himself. In much of his new material off of Love Revolution, he almost seems to be reflecting on his life. “Papa what did you gain / To leave the love you had for a two-bit dame,” he sings in “Long Sad Goodbye.” We all know musicians are infamous for getting emotional closure through their music (read: Lindsay Lohan). An almost middle-aged Lenny faces the demons of his past with his lyrics. Completed unaffected by his age, and still built like a Greek god, he can kick the shit out of a song. His sexy and determined voice blazes against true rock ‘n’ roll guitar—Lenny’s basic repertoire with the exception of a couple of jazz solos.
The rest of the songs on his release are extremely positive, bursting at the seams with self-fulfillment and the practically crucified idea of free love. Let’s face it, we don’t know what the hell free love is and, sadly, we never will, but Kravitz gives us a spoonful of the remedy. “Love Revolution” is the guitar-driven anthem of the baby boomer generation. He fills the screaming void of contemporary music with lyrics like those found in the song, “Love, Love, Love,” in which he confirms his rumored, sexual self-denial, “Don’t need no more religion / Don’t need no air condition/ Don’t need no one to get me laid.”
Lenny’s words bounce off the shallow efforts of other artists, silencing them in their mediocrity. Instead, he uses a non-abrasive, but still powerful mix of funk, jazz, and ‘60s flower power to wrench our hearts and minds open. His CD is a ride on the universal love train.
