Treading Waters
Breathing Room, Volume 1
7 / 10
by Joe Stevens
Tom Waters doesn’t consider himself a poet. In his previous five books, Waters assumes the role of essayist and humorist as he rants and comments in prose on the media, Western New York, celebrities, and his own life. Yet, Waters’ sixth book, Breathing Room Volume I, is his first book dedicated exclusively to poetry, and is accompanied by a second volume, which is now also available.
When I meet Waters, he’s sitting against the bar in Houlihan’s, juggling a pitcher of Molson and a glass of whiskey. Upon introduction, he immediately pours me out a glass and eases into conversation;
“So how’s life at Spectrum?”
“Pretty boring, I guess. Generation isn’t bad though…”
Waters, it turns out, worked for the Spectrum as a student, writing a column for which he eventually got fired. I ask why, and he answers that they stopped paying him so he turned on them. To this day, Waters’ feisty streak appears to be the foundation of his literary reputation.
“There’s a lot of people that don’t like me,” he says, and after reading the first volume of Breathing Room, I think a few more have been added to the list. “I wanted this book to be a ‘fuck you’,” Waters reveals, as he certainly doesn’t hold anything back throughout the collection. Yet it’s not the moments where Waters vents his frustrations and avenges old wounds which are the most touching, but those rarer times in which he reveals a more vulnerable side.
“Someone should cry for Tracy Zullo” is the best example of Waters at his most sensitive. The poem is a lament for an old friend, Zullo, who died without Waters realizing until three years later. The complex anecdotal narrative of the poem is punctuated with premonitions, retrospective interjections, and heart-breaking honesty, combining to create a provocative and engaging piece. As the poem concludes, Waters slides from a first person narrative to addressing Zullo directly, asserting “I wanted you more than success or alcohol or approval / I’ll miss you and your little daughter in Schenectady will / miss you…”
I feel apprehensive when bringing the poem up in conversation with Waters, and he seems uncomfortable discussing it. Indeed, he says he can’t read it or even look at the poem in the book. Further, Waters recruits his wife to read the poem at readings.
Unfortunately, the poems in which Waters writes so sensitively and concisely are less common than those in which he adopts a more heavy-handed approach. In “Repetitive Stress,” for example, the poet describes his frustration at having to design headers and footers for his book. “I’ve got better / fucking things / to do with my time / though / than write my own name.” Such introspective, trivial ranting seems irrelevant when contrasted against the poet’s more thoughtful endeavors and serves to undermine the reader’s opinion of the author.
Indeed, the biggest problem with Breathing Room Volume I is the lack of quality control. Carrie Gardner, the editor of the book, encouraged Waters to cut some poems out completely; Waters, however, perhaps working on the “shove it all in” impulse which informed such poets as O’Hara and Bukowski, refused to cut many poems. The result is a bulky book with pieces such as “Repetitive Stress” and “Conditions” that don’t deserve a place next to poems like “Listening to Thelonious Monk,” which artfully considers the ability of music to appear synchronized with the environment in which it’s played.
Waters comments that the success of the book so far not only surprises him, but “scares the shit” out of him. And when the merits of Waters’ work is mentioned he becomes sheepish and coy. It seems like he’d much rather have a conversation about Bob Dylan (which I’m perfectly happy to do) or English comics than talk about his own poetry. So, I decide to confront Waters and air what troubles me most about his poetry: the image he conveys of himself seems so troubled and bizarre that it is hard to trust its authenticity. Yet Waters staunchly denies the insinuation that he acts through his material and replies that it’s “all accountable.” Later in the afternoon, after Waters had left, his editor Carrie Gardner also dismisses my suspicions and confirms that the multi-faceted character conveyed in Breathing Room really is the true Tom Waters.
Breathing Room Volume I is a hefty book of poetry. The three chapters of Ascent, Resonance, and Resolution categorize the poems well and provide a framework that allows for a richer interpretation, yet the book suffers from a lack of concision. Poems that could have been left out throw the reader off balance and provoke doubt concerning the collection’s accomplishments. Therefore, Breathing Room Volume I is most fulfilling when read sporadically and with one or two poems at a time.
Tom Waters will be performing with Carrie Garden and Fin Layson at the Center for Inquiry on October 25th. Breathing Room Volume I and Volume II are available from his website, tomfoolery4.wordpress.com.
Not Bad Company... But Not Great Either
Queen & Paul Rodgers - The Cosmos Rocks
5.5 / 10
by John Hugar
Before I even get to the music on this album, let’s talk about that title for a second. The Cosmos Rocks? Could Queen have possibly thought of a shittier album title? Any time an album has the word rock or rocks in the title, it’s a bad sign (AC/DC and Aerosmith are the exceptions to this rule). Secondly, cosmos? Really, I don’t think they could’ve picked a nerdier space travel reference. After hearing this title, I had incredibly low expectations for this album, but to my surprise it managed not to suck that much. It’s no great shakes, but it’s safe to say you can listen to this album without becoming homicidal, and that has to count for something.
Four years ago, Queen decided to reunite with former Free/Bad Company frontman Paul Rodgers taking over the vocals. This shocked many people, as Rodgers is the polar opposite of the late Freddie Mercury. While Freddie was a flamboyant, sexually ambiguous diva singing about killer queens and comparing himself to Lady Godiva, Paul was the ultimate masculine rocker. All of his songs pulsate with heterosexuality, from “Can’t Get Enough” to “Feel Like Makin’ Love.” How on earth would he fit in with a band like Queen? Luckily, on their first album together, that doesn’t seem to be a problem. Rodgers’ gruff vocals go well with Brian May’s aggressive guitar, creating a solid classic rock sound that is much more Bad Company than Queen. To their credit, the members of Queen do a fine job of adapting to Rodgers’ singing style, and the music never fails to agree with the vocals. Those afraid of Rodgers not fitting in with Queen’s sound need not fear, that problem has been more than addressed.
Unfortunately, this album suffers from a much more glaring problem, namely, poor songwriting. Queen and Bad Company were both responsible for some the catchiest, most memorable songs of their era, but after so much time out of the game, they seem to have lost their magic touch. The songs here, while not offensively bad, have an unfortunate tendency to be bland and generic. Album opener, “Cosmos Rockin’,” suffers from this problem big time. The song elaborates on its awful title with painfully boring and outdated lyrics about “Rockin’ out in outer space.” Did we not cover these topics 35 years ago? The music on this track is a little better, but not much. It’s just a generic rockabilly tune, with some loud guitars in the mix trying to fool us. Don’t fall for it.
Lyrics are the album’s biggest problem, even more so than the lack of innovation. Check out “We Believe,” an agonizingly dull diddy about changing the world, which makes the Scorpions’ “Winds of Change” sound like Dylan at his best. Seriously, lines like “A leader who can build a brand new morning / And match the tide of changes” would get a staff member fired from the Obama campaign. The worst thing is, the damn thing goes on for six minutes! It fancies itself as this album’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” with its complexity, but ends up just sounding like a failed experiment. On the plus side, it is probably the only time on here in which they actually do try to sound like the old Queen. I’m not asking for poetry from Queen, since it’s never been their main strength, but it would’ve been nice if they’d tried.
The other problem is that there is absolutely nothing here that hasn’t been heard before. I wasn’t expecting this album to be particularly innovative, but the recycling is just ridiculous. It’s as though Queen has no desire to admit that it’s not 1974. Every song has been done before, better. While they don’t directly steal any riffs, they don’t really invent anything here either. Every song is just generic “rocking out,” the kind that hasn’t been shocking since the late ‘60s. Songs like “Some Things That Glitter” exemplify this perfectly. This is yet another boring song about “chasing your dreams” with an uninspiring guitar riff, and lyrics that will bore listeners to death. It seems like all Queen wanted to do here was make “new classic rock.” Unfortunately, in their attempt, they forgot that classic rock becomes classic by being memorable and standing the test of time. Frankly, I’ve already forgotten most of these songs.
So why give this album a fairly decent score? The songs aren’t horrible, they’re just uninteresting. The album does have its bright spots. “C-lebrity” is a solid rocker making fun of how easy it is to achieve fame these days. The song is the sort of catty, bitchy type of thing that Freddie could’ve penned. One of the few that actually has competent lyrics (not original, but adequate), this song would fit right in on 97 Rock. I also enjoyed “Call Me,” a nice and mellow number that is reminiscent of the classic, “You’re My Best Friend.” These songs, and a few others save this album from being a major embarrassment. As it stands, it’s a mediocre effort from a band that can definitely do better. The best moments on here prove that Rodgers and Queen gel together quite well. They are quite a cohesive unit.
Part of me thinks that this group has a lot of potential, part of me wants to officially call this a big mistake, and never see them release another album. As much as the weak lyrics hurt this album, I’m afraid what really hurts is Rodgers inability to sell them. While his vocals are as strong as ever, he is unable to make the lyrics seem profound or interesting. The fact is, Queen were never great lyricists, but they had a great salesman. Mercury’s exuberance made even the most ridiculous, meaningless lyrics seem like the absolute truth. Rodgers is a fine singer, but he can’t bullshit me into thinking these songs are good. The album as a whole just seems lazy, and hastily put together, without a lot of heart going into the music. Queen may not be the gods they used to be, but they can definitely do better than this.
Back Away From Your Indie Rock - Kenny's Back
Kenny Rogers - 50 Years
10 / 10
by Caitlin Tremblay
There is nothing I love more in this world than some flaky biscuits with gravy and easy listening music, especially when I have them both at the same time. This is why the fact that Kenny Rogers’ newest compilation is available only at Cracker Barrel, truly pushed me over the edge.
Let me preface this by saying that I am not a country fan. Tim McGraw makes me want to vomit, Rascal Flatts give me hives, and do not even get me started on Reba McEntire. Then why do I love Kenny Rogers? Because simply put, Kenny Rogers has been cooler than you since he was a fetus in Houston, Texas, in 1938. Rogers defies definition. Unlike the Osmonds, he is a little bit country, a little bit rock ‘n’ roll, and a lot of badass. I mean, just look at the beard. He is the Al Green or the Marvin Gaye of the country-easy listening scene. He’s a woo-er, he makes women swoon, and even if he’s older than my dad, I would still let him buy me a drink. Kenny Chesney has a cowboy hat, Dolly Parton has boobs—Kenny Rogers has talent.
That said, Rogers’ new album, 50 Years, is probably his greatest album since 1978’s The Gambler, and it’s only a compilation. 50 Years is a 12-track record with nine of Rogers’ greatest hits and three new recordings. Only three new songs? This seemingly miniscule number would be appalling if the songs didn’t blow your mind from the first note, specifically “Something’s Wrong in Vegas,” the quintessential love song of our time. Yes, of our time. Rogers painfully and melodically exposes his insecurities after his woman disappears in Las Vegas, leaving him to wonder whether she’s out getting wasted, dropping acid, or seeing the naked-man musical, The Thunder From Down Under. Poor Kenny.
But in all seriousness, this album is the perfect showcase of Rogers as an artist. It’s perfectly balanced with all the highlights of his career, including The Gambler, while his new songs are perfectly evolved to show how Rogers has changed and grown older as an artist, but still possesses his original essence.
So next time you’re in Cracker Barrel, order those chicken and biscuits and pick up 50 Years. Kenny Rogers is cool—get used to it.
When the Saints Go Marching In...
Saints Row 2 [XBOX 360]
9 / 10
by Ryan Mallette
Imitation is the greatest form of flattery. Clone after clone of go anywhere, kill anything, sandbox style games have saturated the market ever since video game systems have been able to handle the task of presenting an entire open-world. Thank you, Grand Theft Auto. One of the game’s finest imitators was the critically acclaimed 2006 Xbox 360 game, Saints Row. The original Saints Row was important, as it was the first game of its kind to enter the new generation of game consoles, giving those who hunger a little mayhem their fix until the next GTA game dropped. Where Saints Row succeeded, however, was not only in its imitation, but also in its improvements to the road that GTA paved.
Saints Row 2 picks up right where the original left off. Your user created, mute protagonist was betrayed by someone in his gang at the end of the last game, and was thrown into a coma after being the victim of a planned yacht explosion. Your character wakes up from their coma and an admirer of your former gang, “Third Street Saints” in order to break out of prison. The player soon finds that the city of Stilwater has changed immensely during the five years they were comatose and sets out to revive his gang and reclaim his former glory.
Saints Row 2 is certainly worth your time. The game’s character now has a full speaking part, the engine has been completely refined, making the overall experience less glitchy, and a fully realized co-op mode has been added. Co-op is the brightest edition here, as nothing is more hilarious than attempting to complete a mission whilst your friend decides to drop in with an RPG and fuck it all up. Well, those are my friends at least, because they’re dicks.
With the advent of the game’s well-deserved sequel, it’s easy to wonder why there is a need for the game in a post Grand Theft Auto IV world. Saints Row is a much lighter affair compared to GTA’s noir style; although the story is epic in scope and has its share of heartstring weights, the series’ narrative is grounded in humor, making it a completely different experience than GTA.
The original Saints Row brought along many ideas that were even implemented into GTA IV; this competition brought exponential and positive change to both series. Saints Row 2 once again has brought some fresh ideas to the table. Most cars in the game have a cruise control feature, which makes getting to destinations a lot easier by allowing the driver to focus on navigating, rather than acceleration. This feature can also have hilarious consequences if it is left on when you exit a vehicle, as your previous ride takes off, un-manned, into the distance. Combat in this game is also largely improved. The game includes many melee combos and a dramatic cinematic camera change to highlight finishing moves, much like last year’s Assassin’s Creed. This is most welcome whilst wielding a sword, as your character stabs their foe through the head, the camera moves in, directly above them as they are brought to a bloody end.
If you’ve already played through Grand Theft Auto IV and need a little more chaos in your gaming, Saints Row 2 is a blast to play through and well worth your time. It’s a more refreshing experience than GTA, but lacks the overall polish of the series, making up for it with fresh ideas and over the top style. Side quests are quite enjoyable and an abundance of new vehicles (bikes, bi-planes, and helicopters) and weapons (defibrillators, sledge hammers, and chainsaws) make the game an entertaining, extreme romp. Picking up a copy of Saints Row 2 from your friendly neighborhood game store is highly recommended.
Serving Up Brilliance
I Served the King of England
9 / 10
by Josh Dill
I Served the King of England, the Czech movie currently playing at University Plaza’s Dipson Amherst Theater, is perfectly crafted and irresistibly charming. It tells the tragicomic history of a young man whose lack of intelligence is balanced by endless ambition and a goofy charisma.
We join our protagonist, Jan Dítĕ, as he is released from a jail in communist Czechoslovakia after fifteen years of imprisonment. Exiled to work in a deserted border town, his contact with his fellow laborers allows him to reflect on the fantastic stories of his past. Like a man looking into a room full of mirrors, he observes himself and his history from all angles.
Dítĕ got his start in Prague as a young and foolish waiter, a money-hungry lad amazed by what people would do to get a single coin. Employed at the swankiest of hotels, his proximity to the pleasures of wealth inspired in him a simple ambition: to become a millionaire. While working towards his goal, he experienced many jobs, many love affairs, and many unlikely strokes of luck. The vicissitudes of history saw Prague fall under the control of the Nazi Reich. Dítĕ became a collaborator of the regime, and eventually became the (Aryan-approved) husband of a Hitler-worshipping Sudeten fräulein.
The film’s main theme is Dítĕ coming to terms with his past. Staring into his mirror image, he declares, “Sometimes I seem to myself like a stranger whom I can accuse, and defend against accusation.” The film deals with this theme very deftly, portraying Dítĕ’s past in the form of episodes of his memory. Dítĕ’s memories accumulate, forming sequences of significance that are clear to the audience, but never overbearing or heavy-handedly moralistic.
The scenes of Dítĕ’s past aren’t meant to be strictly accurate—they’re memories, after all, and whose memories are photorealistic? The artistic effect is magical. The viewer is transported into a fairy-tale version of decadent interwar Prague, where the men were haughty and confident and the women were classy and entrancing, where businessmen papered the walls with cash, and where a head waiter’s explanation for his remarkable skills could be a serene, “Once, I served the King of England.” All of these scenes are portrayed with such a charming sense of style and pageantry that the film would be a delight to watch even if it had no plot. The film’s very theatrical mise-en-scène might remind American viewers of Wes Anderson. It is full of recurring visual motifs, locations, plot devices, and patterns that conjoin Dítĕ’s various memories, from the most farcical to the most tragic.
This is a great and unique movie. It’s hilarious, clever, sexy, and utterly unabashed, but also poignant and serious. The storytelling format of the old man recalling his past is an interesting treatment of the theme of introspection and gives the tale another layer of meaning. After watching this intelligent and amusing examination of Dítĕ’s past, you’ll walk out of the theater feeling like you have the wry wisdom that comes from a life full of experiences.
It's Not The Size...
Preview - LittleBigPlanet [PS3]
by Jason Polansky
The PlayStation brand is one that gets sorely overlooked for its quality platforming titles. Usually, when the word platform is mentioned in the gaming world, many jump to say “Mario.” This fixation is unfortunate, as Sony has been rolling out triple-A series such as Jak and Daxter, Sly Cooper, and my personal favorite, Ratchet and Clank, that fill in the void between every true Mario release. Sony is poised to unleash its latest platforming beast, the Media Molecule developed, LittleBigPlanet. Recently, I got the chance to play the beta build, and I am pleased to say that it’s one of the most impressive experiences to be found this generation.
The setup for LBP is as simple as the original Super Mario Bros.; you are given control of a too-cute-to-be-true sack person to run and jump through any given level. That’s it. The initial charm is in the simple execution and beautiful visual presentation. Moving and jumping work as they should, and everything has an authentic look to it. Your sack person is a stuffed creature, personified by facial expressions and hand movements. You can dress your sack person in different hats, outfits, change the material it’s made of, and much more. If you have the PlayStation Eye camera, you can even take a picture of your own face (or anything else for that matter) and slap it on your character to literally put yourself in the game.
But customization doesn’t end in the form of basic dress-up. Your true creativity and ambition will be put to the test with the game’s detailed level creator. Everything you see in any given level can be recreated or altered to your own vision. The pictures taken with the PlayStation Eye can also be put in any level in any way you wish. There are limitless customization options at your disposal.
LBP’s main focus is its user created content and online community. Any level that is created can be put online and shared with the rest of the world. And there’s no need to worry about playing crude and boring levels, as the smooth interface automatically displays the top rated levels first, alongside simple descriptions so you know what to expect before downloading a level. Those lacking the creative juices to make something magical can still find infinite replay value in the sea of user-created content.
I urge you all to pick the title up and join what is bound to be one of the most expansive gaming communities since Spore’s release. The only thing that has yet to be seen is how Media Molecule’s own levels will fare for those without the ability to download new levels, but if their content is half as good as the community’s, then we may just have the next big thing on our hands.
The Hip Side of Happy
Happy-Go-Lucky
6 / 10
by Natalie Schnorr
Mike Leigh had his work cut out for him with his new comedy Happy-Go-Lucky. Selling happy is not an easy feat, which is why even if hookers did have teeth, they still wouldn’t get paid for their smiles. So how do you market pure, unadulterated happiness to a world stimulated by greed, lust, envy, and pride? You don’t. Instead you get a totally charming, zealous young lady on board, and then you market her.
Enter Sally Hawkins. Hawkins stars as the film’s blithe-to-the-brink-of-delusional protagonist, Poppy. Poppy is a single, 30-year-old primary school teacher, who at times can be just as loopy and bubbly as her students. That doesn’t mean she’s not a capable, functioning adult, just that she shares the free-spiritedness of a generation personified by its rejection of settling down. While Poppy’s personality is so gutsy that it can wear thin at times, it’s a refreshing contrast to the usual, manufactured happy Hollywood persona. Poppy’s experiences with a seriously demented, racist driving instructor, a battered and beaten kid, and a really scary hobo show that, while her cheeky antics are delightfully amusing, they disguise fears and insecurities.
Every Mike Leigh film has a message. With Oscar nominated Vera Drake, the moral was that nice old ladies, not coat hangers, are meant to perform abortions. What you should learn from Happy-Go-Lucky, besides the obvious, is that no one is more charismatic than Sally Hawkins. You may think you are, but that’s just proof right there that you’re not. A giggly waif with a knack for sarcasm, Hawkins is at the top of her game, with trans-Atlantic success. While the film’s marketing strategy makes it pretty obvious that Hawkins is carrying the film, Happy-Go-Lucky isn’t a one-woman show. Eddie Masan’s teeth are too filthy to allow him to receive the same kind of critical praise as Hawkins, but he was equally good as Scott, Poppy’s driving instructor and polar opposite. While the face-off between Poppy’s eternal optimism and Scott’s bitter pessimism may seem a tad cliché, their repartee is necessary to acknowledge the validity of both perspectives. Besides Masan, both Alexis Zegerman as Poppy’s witty flatmate and Katrina Fernandez as a sassy flamenco teacher, deliver charming performances as well.
It’s strange that a film so rehearsed in happy is actually so agreeable. That doesn’t usually happen; just ask Richard Simmons, who single-jazz-handedly killed his own career with an overabundance of happiness. He learned the hard way that when you play with happy, you get burned and degraded to the point that nobody even wants you for their reality TV show. But please don’t let one man’s ignorance of the boundaries between cheery and demented steer you away from a sunny disposition. It’s always been that you had to be square to be hip, but now thanks to Leigh, you can be happy too.
Dizzle For Rizzle
An Interview with David Aron
by Dana Rosenwasser
Breaking into the mainstream music industry has never been an easy task, but David Aron has pioneered his way through the ‘90s to work with artists like West Coast icon Tupac. Currently working as Snoop Dogg’s personal Sound Engineer, Dave Dizzle returns from Snoop’s European tour to lend Generation some tips about the biz, the evolution of music, and why Europe has better audiences than America.
Generation: Is there any part of your background that you find particularly important to shaping who you are today?
Dave Dizzle: I think my broad musical background with my family influenced me tremendously. Also, the University of Memphis had a great recording program.
G: What are three things you would advise to artists looking to break into the music industry?
DD: Self-promotion. Create a fan base; generate interest amongst general public instead of industry people. Second, the quality of music has suffered since technology has made it easier to create music yourself. It’s important that the quality is going to be up to a particular standard since professional tools aren’t used as often. Make sure the music isn’t suffering on a budget. Last, stay true to the type of music you want to do. Create a trend more than just trying to follow one. Then someone can you use you as a standard.
G: What is your opinion of the hip-hop industry today?
DD: It’s taken a major turn. Lyrically it has gotten a little more simple, and I’d like to see some lyrics that have a little more depth to them. In the ‘90s, the music had a lot larger melodic vocabulary, and the subject matter was a little deeper. Music was musical; there were more hooks, bridges, lots of things that are not happening right now. I find that the whole industry is saturated with artists and producers that will evolve into another level of professionalism, so that once again only the top artists succeed; it’s a weed out process.
G: Did you take part in the feud between the West and East Coast?
DD: My thing was to work with as many people as I could in the industry; that’s what mattered. I worked with RZA and The Wu-tang Clan on Killa Bees stuff and when I got the opportunity to work on Biggie’s Duets, I was ecstatic. I’m going to do what I can do, and they gotta respect that. I think I’ve worked with all West Coast rappers but I’m still from Jersey; I’m still a Yankees fan.
G: What are the major differences between the American and European audiences?
DD: Europeans are great to play for because they aren’t as subdued as Americans. Americans have kind of seen it all, whereas Europeans are excited about artists coming over; it’s like we’re The Beatles or something. With the paparazzi and autographs everywhere, you really think you’re a rock star.
