Lollapalooza, Grant Park, Chicago, August 7-9, 2009
Snoop Dogg
After three days of pouring rain, scorching heat, immense crowds, late-night after parties, and endless drinking, some exhaustion is to be expected. Another Lollapalooza has come and gone (followed by an extra two days in Chicago), and I must say I'm simultaneously saddened and relieved. Some of our festival coverage (along with images by yours truly) can also be found over at Spinner.com, including my Crystal Castles coverage, and Kim's coverage of Ida Maria and the Raveonettes.
Below are some choice shots, in no real order. (More images are up in the [still-in-process] Flickr gallery.)
All Points West Music Festival, Liberty Park, New Jersey, July 31-August 1, 2009
To say that these photos represent the All Points West experience would be...misleading. That's because the All Points West experience involved being ankle-deep in mud. To be honest, the rain was so heavy on Friday that we left after seeing roughly 1.5 sets. Saturday was beautiful, although the festival grounds had been turned into brown soup. And Sunday? Well we skipped Sunday in order to see No Age, Dan Deacon, and Deerhunter play the Williamsburg Waterfront. That show, unfortunately, was canceled due to—you guessed it—rain. Luckily, they played an impromptu late-night set at a local bowling alley. I declined to lug my camera to that show, however, so you'll just have to use your imagination.
Jarvis Cocker at Music Hall of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, July 30, 2009
I was standing WAY too far from the stage for my poor little prime lens to do any good, but I still stole a few decent shots of a terrific show. As always, Jarvis was witty, theatrical, and crazy as a shithouse rat. (A "full" set is available over on Flickr.)
Siren Festival, July 18, 2009, Coney Island, Brooklyn, New York
Yet another sunny, rockin' Village Voice Siren Festival has come and gone. This one was something special, though, as the fest is basically on borrowed time these days. In fact, last year was supposed to be the last year, but the economy and various city council disputes have slowed Coney Island development plans.
And it's a damn good thing, too. 2009 standouts were Future of the Left, Thee Oh Sees, and Japandroids, although there wasn't a disappointment in the lot this time around. And be sure to catch Kim's pre-show interview with the Raveonettes (featuring a photo by yours truly) over at Spinner.com.
The Best Live Shows of 2008 Listmania Late Edition
2008 is already a distant memory, but I had so many concert shots from this year lying around it seemed a shame not to do a quick roundup of the year in live music. Since it's hard to rank this kind of thing (especially when music festivals are involved), this year I'm sticking with chronology. Plus it's a great way to chart the gradual development of my photography skills (by which I mean "incremental camera upgrades"). [Also, check out some highlights from the year in outdoor concerts.]
The Best Live Shows of 2008
1. Dead Meadow
Bowery Ballroom, Manhattan, Jan. 16
[flickr set]
3. Nada Surf
Music Hall Of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, Feb. 7
Bowery Ballroom, Feb. 8
4. The Magnetic Fields
Town Hall, Manhattan, Feb. 23
5. No Age
Bowery Ballroom, May 6
6. Blood on the Wall
Mercury Lounge, Manhattan, May 17
7. Sasquatch Festival
Gorge Amphitheater, George, Washington, May 24–27
Highlights: M.I.A., The Hives, Fleet Foxes, The Flaming Lips UFO Show, Tegan & Sara, Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks
[flickr set]
8. The Breeders
Webster Hall, Manhattan, Jun. 10
[flickr set]
9. The Futureheads
Bowery Ballroom, June 17
10. The Vaselines
Southpaw, Brooklyn, Jul. 10
11. No Age
South Street Seaport, Manhattan, Jul. 11
12. Todd P Mid-Summer Outdoor Party
The Yard, Brooklyn, Jul. 12
Highlights: Crystal Antlers, Ponytail, Titus Andronicus
13. The Breeders/Matt & Kim
McCarren Pool, Brooklyn, Jul. 13
[flickr set]
14. Siren Festival 2008
Coney Island, Brooklyn, Jul. 19
Highlights: The Helio Sequence, Islands, Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks
15. Supergrass
Webster Hall, Jul. 30
16. King Khan & The Shrines, Black Lips, and Deerhunter
McCarren Pool, Aug. 3
17. All Points West Festival
Liberty State Park, Jersey City, New Jersey, Aug. 8 & 9
Highlights: Radiohead, Metric, The Black Angels, CSS
18. The Walkmen
Bowery Ballroom, Aug. 19
19. Yo La Tengo w/ Titus Andronicus
McCarren Pool, Aug. 23
20. Deerhunter
Le Poisson Rouge, Manhattan, Sep. 9
[flickr set]
21. All Tomorrow's Parties NY
Kutsher's Country Club, Monticello, New York, Sep. 19–21
Highlights: Built to Spill, Shellac, Polvo, Les Savy Fav, Mogwai, Dinosaur Jr., My Bloody Valentine
[flickr set]
22. Jay Reatard
Music Hall of Williamsburg, Oct. 23
Bowery Ballroom, Oct. 24
23. Crystal Antlers
Bowery Ballroom, Oct. 25
24. Deerhunter
Music Hall of Williamsburg, Nov. 7
25. School of Seven Bells
Mercury Lounge, Dec. 15
[flickr set]
And, finally, the WORST live shows of the year were... The Dandy Warhols @ Terminal 5, Sep. 17; Pinback @ Bowery Ballroom, Sep. 28; and Longwave @ Bowery Ballroom, Oct. 24.
2008 is over. Shall we raise some hosannahs to the sky? In all fairness, I shouldn't add to the chorus of bellyaching; economic collapse aside, I still have a job and my loved ones all seem to have their health. Besides, 2008 ended up being a pretty good year for music. The top end was especially loaded, with no less than three albums with legitimate claims to the top spot. Still, if the Highlander movies have taught us anything (and they have taught us so much), it's that there can be only one.
We've also learned that, just as 2006 was a great year to have "wolf" somewhere in your band's name (Wolfmother, Wolf Parade, etc.), 2008 was the year of "crystal," with fantastic albums from Crystal Castles, Crystal Antlers, and Crystal Stilts. And we've discovered that it was a terrific year to be Bradford Cox, who released not one, not two, but three albums (technically) that made the *bitter defeat* top 20. That's fairly impressive. Finally, we've learned that young, noisy bands playing in warehouses and backyards are still the most exciting game in town, from "elder statesmen" like Jay Reatard, Fucked Up, and No Age to up-and-comers like Ponytail, Vivian Girls, Crystal Antlers, Pissed Jeans, and Abe Vigoda.
We may be hanging on by a string, but thanks to all these young punks (and a certain President Elect), the future looks pretty bright.
The 20 Best Albums of 2008
20. Dr. Dog – Fate
Though Dr. Dog is frequently compared to The Band, it's usually in a negative context, as in "the Band lite." This was especially true of Fate, which was largely dismissed by critics as sounding too much like other stuff, namely The Beatles, The Zombies, The Beach Boys, etc. Here's the problem: this album doesn't actually sound like any of those bands. Sure, there are references aplenty to ragtime, hillbilly, music hall, Philly soul, 60s pop, and the like, but the resulting mishmash of old-timey sounds and 1960s studio effects is more evocative than derivative. So is Dr. Dog lost in the past? Most definitely. But that does nothing to diminish the quality of these trips down memory lane.
19. Ponytail – Ice Cream Spiritual
Molly Siegel, the diminutive lead singer of Baltimore noise-poppers Ponytail, uses her voice as an instrument, a weapon, and a rallying cry. She's yelping and OOOOH-ing as often (more, perhaps) as she is singing, and her vocal antics would be perfectly at home on the playground. Firmly in the tradition of Deerhoof (and with a sense of fun reminiscent of X-Ray Spex), Ponytail remind us that sophisticated music can always be fast and fun.
18. The Black Keys – Attack & Release
A drums-and-guitar duo chugging out fuzzy blues riffs, with production by...Danger Mouse? Strangely enough, it's a perfect fit. That extra little dash of R&B is the perfect garnish for this steaming plate of Zep.
17. Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks – Real Emotional Trash
I'll admit this is a 100% emotional pick, based on pure lighter-in-the-air enjoyment. Not as effortlessly charming as 2003's Pig Lib and more sedate than 2005's Face the Truth, Real Emotional Trash relies heavily on a single element of the Malkmus repertoire: sweet, sweet jams, my man. This is both a criticism (you won't see the album on many best-of lists) and glowing praise (Malkmus remains the king of indie groove). There isn't much new here, but it's hard to argue with stunning competence.
16. The Last Shadow Puppets – Age of the Understatement
When Arctic Monkeys frontman Alex Turner announced a side project, it's hard to imagine anyone being prepared for Age of the Understatement. Heavily influenced by the orchestral pop of Lee Hazelwood and Scott Walker, The Last Shadow Puppets employ strings, horns, and lush arrangements that call to mind Sergio Leone and 1960s spy-movie soundtracks. It's hard to believe Turner is only 22. Maybe his dad helped him with his homework.
15. Crystal Stilts – Alight of Night
If Phil Spector produced an album by a depressed ghost, it would sound exactly like Crystal Stilts. Singer Brad Hargett's moody groan resembles Ian Curtis on horse tranquilizers, while the band's funereal echo-chamber stomp recall such Spector acolytes as The Raveonettes and The Jesus and Mary Chain. Haunting, dreamy, and minimal to the core, Crystal Stilts is a York Peppermint Pattie for your ears.
14. No Age – Nouns
On Nouns, No Age left behind some of their more hardcore leanings in favor of soundscapes and noise collages, but the result is far from alienating. Like Deerhunter, they tear out of the gate just often enough to keep things lively. In other words, "maturity" doesn't have to be all bad.
13. Atlas Sound – Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See but Cannot Feel
"Prolific" would be something of an understatement. Between his work with Deerhunter and his own bedroom recordings as Atlas Sound, Bradford Cox released enough music in 2008 to make Robert Pollard look like J.D. Salinger. Sound collages, ambient interludes, acoustic strumming...you name it, it's in here. Cox's preoccupation with childhood and nostalgia finds perfect expression on an album of intimate, innocent moments.
12. The Dodos – Visiter
Two dudes shouldn't be able to make an album this spacious. Beautiful acoustic guitars, polyrythic drums, and enough primal yelping for three Big Country albums combine to make Visiter (their second full-length) one of the most exciting releases of the year.
11. Jay Reatard - Singles 06–07; Matador Singles 08
By virtue of having been released in one collection this year (and my not having heard most of them before), Jay Reatard's earlier singles count. And even if they hadn't, his slate of 2008 singles on Matador more than stand on their own. Manic, propulsive, and punk as fuck, Reatard's insanely catchy pop threatens to single-handedly destroy this country's hunger for antidepressants.
10. Vivian Girls – Vivian Girls
Ludwig Mies van der Rohe would be so damn proud of Vivian Girls, whose music is "less is more" incarnate. Like many of their contemporaries, the Brooklyn trio has embraced the Phil Spector echo-chamber aesthetic, but their seeming amateurism sets them apart in all the right ways. (Imagine the Shaggs, but with actual talent.) Brandishing simple two-part harmonies, three chords, and a kit with no kick drum, Vivian Girls make simplicity the ultimate virtue.
9. Vampire Weekend – Vampire Weekend
Decry their preppy demeanor and Ivy League pedigree all you want, but there's no denying Vampire Weekend's talent. No one had a problem with over-educated honkies mining reggae, calypso, and African polyrythms when they were called Talking Heads (or the Feelies, for that matter), so save the hipster-bashing for the Stereogum comments section. Literate, incisive lyrics, melodies so catchy the CDC is on alert...in the end, what is there to discuss?
8. M83 – Saturdays = Youth Saturdays = Youth is a stunningly faithful rendition of the synth-driven atmospherics that characterized much of the 1980s' best film music—from Wang Chung's score for To Live and Die in L.A. to the Dream Academy's cover of "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want" in Ferris Bueller's Day Off to the instrumental version of New Order's "Thieves Like Us" that propelled Pretty in Pink's iconic prom-dress-making scene. If nothing else, Anthony Gonzalez's album-length paean to smoking cigarettes in the graveyard listening to Cocteau Twins is the year's most compelling act of homage.
7. Department of Eagles – In Ear Park
The best Grizzly Bear album of the year, even though only 33% of Grizzly Bear recorded it.
6. Crystal Antlers – Crystal Antlers EP
Crystal Antlers' debut is so volcanic, so fucking go for the throat, that a mere six song EP left most of this year's full-lengths shaking in the dust. Johnny Bell's throat-searing vocals rip through an acid-blurred landscape of apocalyptic art-rock. Plus their drummer goes shirtless and their percussionist is named Sexual Chocolate.
5. Portishead – Third
Trip-hop? What the hell is trip-hop?? After an absence of almost a decade, Portishead return with an album so densely atmospheric, so utterly heartbreaking, that it requires an entirely new genre. Is bleak-hop taken? Also, it is terrifying.
4. Fleet Foxes – Fleet Foxes
Shaggy beards, flannel, geetars, and real purty singin' make Fleet Foxes' self-titled debut the finest bit of rootsy Americana this side of Harry Smith. Bitter Defeat #1 song "White Winter Hymnal" is just the tip of the smoky mountain; every song transports listeners to a simpler time, when everyone smelled like B.O. and woodfires.
3. Pete & the Pirates – Little Death
It all started one night on New York Noise, the city's best (and only) cable-access indie-rock video show. The video for "Come on Feet," two and a half minutes of pure, unadulterated pop genius, kick-started my love affair with a little band from Reading, England, who have yet to release their debut album in the States. Pitchfork wrote an excellent 8/10 review, while the semi-pro assholes over at Vice magazine gave it a 0 out of 10, so it's safe to say that what little critical reception Little Death has gotten has been, well, mixed. Full disclosure: Up until 48 hours ago, this was my pick for #1. In fact, it is far and away my favorite album of 2008. But I decided at the last minute to vote with my head rather than my heart. (This is the "critical" equivalent of thinking with your brain rather than your penis.) Why, you might ask yourself, would a non-professional who's not getting paid for this not just choose his favorite album as the Best of the Year? Well, I guess it's because I'm trying to tell you, the readers (all three of you), what the BEST album was. Not objectively the best, but the best according to an admittedly loose set of aesthetic criteria that prevent me from recommending an admittedly light, catchy album as the year's finest artistic achievement. I mean, The Dark Night was my favorite movie of the year, but I would tell anyone who asked that Rachel Getting Married was (again, in my opinion) the best movie of 2008. In other words, I'm playing critic here...which is a somewhat nauseating affectation on a personal website with three readers. But what the hell. Suffice it to say that, "critical" defensiveness aside, Little Death is a fantastic album, a front-to-back pop gem full of infectious hooks and the kind of charming earnestness that only young bands can pull off (see Exhibit A, below). I love this album unreservedly, and I desperately hope Pete & the Pirates come to New York at some point in 2009.
2. Deerhunter – Microcastle/Weird Era Cont.
You know you've got something special on your hands when your "bonus disc" could stand alone as one of the best albums of the year. The band's affection for motorik drums, shoegazing scrawl, and ambient textures hasn't dimmed much, but Microcastle also hews more closely than last year's Cryptograms to what could be termed the pop blueprint, and it's all the better for it. For a band as willfully experimental (not to mention prolific) as Deerhunter, "songs" can be the ultimate crucible—one man's "bad" ambient sound collage is another man's Music for Airports, but a bad song is marginally easier to identify, at least in terms of musicianship, lyrical content, melody, and the like. So it's nice to see that the band's move toward "accessibility" is also a massive step forward.
1. The Walkmen – You & Me
In light of everything I said above about critical assessments and their relationship to personal tastes, it's telling that this year's top two albums represent bands that have each taken the top spot in years past (Deerhunter last year and The Walkmen in 2004). So much for critical distance.
In terms of both style and temperament, You & Me, far and away the band's most intimate album to date, owes a heavy debt to Leonard Cohen. Whereas previous outings were marked by brash stand-offishness or Dylanesque opacity, You & Me feels sparse, world-weary, and confessional, a louche raconteur's tour of darkened bars and moonlight beaches. In fact, beaches—both literal and metaphorical—are a recurrent image throughout the album, whether as places for relaxing idylls or as lonely, isolated expanses. With titles like "Dónde Está la Playa," "On the Water," and "Red Moon," it's easy to imagine the album as a kind of travelogue, the melancholy soundtrack to a besotted, post-breakup solo vacation. Even the music has something of the tropical in it, with Mariachi horn sections and calypso rhythms welling up behind Paul Maroon's trademark ringing guitars. Yet despite the slight air of resignation, You & Me is no downer. It is, rather, the sound of being blissfully swept away, of drowning your cares beneath the waves and having a drink or ten with a roomful of downtrodden strangers.
LISTMANIA 2008 The Best Albums of the Year: Honorable Mentions
Only twenty candidates made the cut this year, but there were quite a few excellent albums lingering at the edge of the bubble...like Syracuse on the NCAA tourney selection special. Some simply weren't top-twenty material, while others I could only hear briefly or piece-by-piece via free downloads, but all are worth picking up if you have the means (or a Limewire account).
I would also like to mention a few albums I wanted to listen to, but never got to hear in their entirety: TV on the Radio - Dear Science; Guns & Roses - Chinese Democracy; Boris - Smile; Kanye West - 808s and Heartbreak; Earth - The Bees Made Honey in the Lion's Skull; Spiritualized - Songs in A & E; and Hot Chip - Made in the Dark.
Here, in no real order, are the Listmania 2008 runners-up.
Titus Andronicus – The Airing of Grievances
Forget the Hold Steady—lord knows I wish I could—these Glen Rock, New Jersey, natives' ramshackle debut is indie rock's true answer to the Boss.
Bon Iver – For Emma, Forever Ago
A white acoustic folkie from Wisconsin who somehow manages to sound like the best TV on the Radio songs they never recorded. Must be heard to be believed.
The Dirtbombs – We have You Surrounded
Mick Collins's underrated Detroit psycho-soul outfit take their typical genre-hopping ways to new extremes. Check out an interview at The Sound of Young America.
MGMT – Oracular Spectacular
The standard bearers of the hippie-ster movement may have committed the unpardonable sin of bringing colorful head-scarves back into vogue, but they also produced a legitimate neo-psych masterpiece. "Electric Feel" and "Time to Pretend" were two of the year's best singles.
Black Mountain – In the Future
Sabbath riffs? Check. Blue Cheer fuzz? Check. Extended jams? Check. Enjoy.
Fucked Up – Chemistry of Common Life
This is an album of super-awesome face-melting Canadian hardcore. Yeah, if you're not already running to the record store there's not much more I can do for you.
Abe Vigoda – Skeleton
Fractured "tropical punk" straight out of Chino, California. Bouncing, high-toned guitar gymnastics with so much echo it sounds like it was recorded in a high school bathroom.
Foals – Antidotes
And this year's Futureheads Award for the English band whose sound is most often referred to as "angular" goes to...Foals, a semi-incomprehensible quintet of Oxford lads with a penchant for chiming guitars and colorful sweatshirts.
Islands – Arm's Way
Never let it be said that Islands' Nick T. (formerly of indie stalwarts The Unicorns) is afraid of gilding the lily; the guy likes to throw a lot of instruments into his songs. And while this approach sometimes flirts with diminishing returns, the successes are truly epic.
Santogold – Santogold
Santogold's debut veers from dancehall to U.K. garage to 80s-style anthemic rock in a multi-culti mélange worthy of M.I.A. (to whom she is frequently, and favorably, compared). Santogold may be the year's best driving music.
Does It Offend You, Yeah? – You Have No Idea What You're Getting Yourself Into
Perched on the narrow line between the best and worst band names ever, DIOYY are this year's most lovable post-rave pranksters.
Evangelicals – The Evening Descends
Describing an album as "weird" is the height of laziness, even for the armchair critic. Nonetheless, The Evening Descends is weird. Not Trout Mask Replica weird, but definitely 1980s Danny Elfman weird. Every song seems to be about Halloween, skeletons, or scary movies, and the singing isn't so much "singing" as "a spider is crawling on my neck" moaning. It's fantastic.
Love Is All – A Hundred Things Keep Me Up at Night
Admittedly, after the energetic brilliance of Love Is All's debut, I found this album's same-y tempo disappointing. That said, an OK Love Is All album is still better than most of the stuff out there.
Metallica – Death Magnetic
Rick Rubin is the Flip this House of music: he takes on down-market fixer-uppers, hoses off all the unnecessary dross, and returns them to their former glory. First it was Johnny Cash, then it was Neil Diamond, and now it's the seemingly unredeemable 'Tally. In the wake of the trainwreck self-parody of their Some Kind of Monster period, it's fun to imagine Rubin's pitch: "So how do you guys feel about NOT being a bloated joke? I'm thinking we could cut the over-produced horseshit and maybe get back to, oh I don't know...maybe thrashing the shit out of some metal?" The resulting album is no Master of Puppets, but it's no Load either. That's a big step in the right direction, and it's nice to see this dog returning to some old tricks.
Why? – Alopecia
A hip-hop/indie rock album that sounds like an unholy cross between the Bloodhound Gang, They Might Be Giants, and MC 900 Ft. Jesus? Yeah, but it's actually good.
LISTMANIA 2008 The 40 Best Songs of the Year, Part 2
Fleet Foxes at Sasquatch!, May 24, 2008
Although time constraints have prevented me from providing any commentary thus far in the Listmania season, rest assured that the 2008 Album List will, in fact, contain actual written content. What can I say? As you all know, 2008 has been a total bitch. In the meantime, here are the top 20 songs of 2008.
LISTMANIA 2008 The 40 Best Songs of the Year, Part 1
Islands at Siren Fest, July 19, 2008
After a long holiday layoff, *bitter defeat* returns with the first installment in the 2008 edition of LISTMANIA. We begin with the 40 best songs of the year, a list that says far more about the author than it does about the actual musical landscape. Of course if you try to cover the actual musical landscape, you end up with something like Rolling Stone's mind-bendingly schizophrenic Top 50 Albums of 2008 list, which includes No Age, the Jonas Brothers, Jackson Browne, B.B. King, Metallica, and (SHOCKER!!) Bob Dylan. No single publication should attempt to simultaneously appeal to me, my mom, and my (imaginary) 11-year-old sister. Still, there is something to be said for balance, and I'll be the first to admit that I failed once again to really delve into hip-hop and "urban" music this year. Lil Wayne aside (and let's be honest here... Lil Wayne is this year's Hip-Hop Artist that White Indie-Rock Fans Like), my tastes ran to white, blogger-approved, guitar-driven indie music.
Admissions of White Liberal Guilt aside, there remains the usual raft of disclaimers, qualifications, and guidelines that go into any respectable year-end list. To begin with, for the sake of variety I decided to limit entries to one per artist. In addition, although most of these songs were, in fact, released as singles, that is in no way a requirement; album tracks are just fine. Additionally, a couple of tthese may technically have been released as singles in 2007, but if I first heard the song in 2008 and it was included on an album released in 2008, then it bloody well counts. Conversely, if the song was on an album released in 2007, but was released as a single in 2008...then give me a fucking break. In other words, no Radiohead songs came out this year, so Radiohead has no place on any 2008 best-of lists.
Since this intro was so damned long-winded, I'll also forgo lengthy commentary on songs 40 through 21.
NOTE: All streaming audio has been removed due to bandwidth issues.
40. "Salute Your Solution" – The Raconteurs
39. "Fatalist Palmistry" – Why?
38. "Shut Up and Let Me Go" – The Ting Tings
37. "Ready for the Floor" – Hot Chip
36. "The End of the Line" – Metallica Great song, but we all know how these petulant dickheads get about the whole "sharing music" thing. 35. "Oxford Comma" – Vampire Weekend
34. "Elvis" – These New Puritans
33. "Death to Los Campesinos!" – Los Campesinos!
32. "Son the Father" – Fucked Up
31. "We Own the Sky" – M83
30. "Teen Creeps" – No Age
29. "Last Choice" – Love Is All
28. "Waving Flags" – British Sea Power
27. "The Arm" – Islands
26. "We Are Rockstars" – Does It Offend You, Yeah?
25. "Air War" – Crystal Castles
24. "Up All Night" – The Young Knives
23. "Standing Next to Me" – The Last Shadow Puppets
School of Seven Bells at Mercury Lounge, December 15, 2008
My ears are still ringing like a television tube after last night's excellent School of Seven Bells show at Mercury Lounge. It's amazing how much noise you can make without bass or drums. Plenty more shots in the Flickr gallery.
31 20-Something Days of Horror: The Movie-a-Day Horror Movie Halloween Countdown, Day 29
"Did you ever see that movie where the body is walking around carrying its own head, and then the head goes down on that babe?" -- Kevin Spacey as Lester Burnham in American Beauty
With that line from 1999's Oscar winner for Best Picture, Re-Animator went from beloved cult film to dorm-room sensation overnight. (And as a result, "I want to borrow your copy of Re-Animator" became code for "I want to buy some pot.") It even surpassed The Big Lebowski on EW.com's The Cult 25 list.
Released in October 1985, Re-Animator bridged the gap between the Frankenstein/mad scientist genre and zombie movies. It also solidified the cult-horror transition from the bleak nihilism of the post-Watergate years (The Last House on the Left, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and so forth) to the self-referential sardonicism of the Reagan years and beyond, from Evil Dead 2 to Feast.
The plot is simple: an unbalanced genius has discovered a "reagent" (which looks suspiciously like the stuff inside a Glow Stick) that brings dead tissue back to life. Unfortunately, everyone that gets reanimated appears stuck on a sliding scale between primal anger and diabolical evil, and West's continuing experiments gradually unleash a cavalcade of very pissed-off zombies in various states of articulacy (and decay). It all starts when he brings back his roommate Dan's cat, Rufus, in what may be the film's best sequence. Dan, who is ostensibly the film's "hero," had already discovered his former pet stiff as a board in West's mini-fridge, whereupon West made up an oh-so-plausible story about "the poor thing" getting its head stuck in a jar. Cut to the following night, as Dan finds West in the basement doing battle with an extremely agitated, formerly deceased kitty. They finally manage to re-kill old Rufus by throwing the poor little bastard against a cinderblock wall, but our boy Herbert is just getting started: he then re-reanimates the cat, by way of demonstration ("Don't expect it to tango, it has a broken back"). The entire sequence (which comes, mind you, about 15 minutes into the movie) is a fitting preamble for what's to come: a perfect mix of gore, scares, and pitch-black gallows humor. It also tells you all you need to know about Herbert West: the good doctor is batshit insane.
When West's nemesis, Dr. Hill, attempts to steal the secrets of reanimation, West has no choice but to dispatch him by first clobbering and then decapitating him with the blade of a shovel. Face it, you would do the same in his position. Naturally, West gives the head a shot of Glow Stick filling, but he fails to anticipate Dr. Hill's ability to command his own headless body. Dr. Hill then proceeds, head in hand, to unleash an army of crazed zombies—and to kidnap and, yes, orally molest Dan's hapless girlfriend Megan (whose father, the dean of the medical school, has already been turned into a lobotomized zombie). In terms of "innocent bystander" abuse, the film is essentially a toss-up between Megan and Rufus the cat.
Needless to say, Re-Animator is roughly ninety minutes of unadulterated fun, replete with 24 gallons of blood, naked zombie fights, cat murder, dead cat murder, dead cat re-murder, zombie lobotomies (I know, seems redundant), beheading by shovel, and, of course, decapitated cunnilingus. In other words, it's good, clean family fun for Halloween.
31 20-Something Days of Horror: The Movie-a-Day Horror Movie Halloween Countdown, Day 22
When is a sequel not a sequel? Is Troll 2 a sequel, even though they just slapped the title on after the fact (and the word "troll" is never uttered in the film)? Probably not. Okay, but what if the original film's director, art supervisor, and producers are all on board, and yet the "sequel" has absolutely no narrative connection whatsoever to its ostensible progenitor? Enter the strange case of Halloween III: Season of the Witch. Original director John Carpenter returned (as producer and composer), as did the original co-writer (Debra Hill, now producer), art director (Tommy Lee Wallace, now director), and executive producer (Halloween godfather Moustapha Akkad). But they seem to have forgotten someone rather important: Michael Myers. And I don't mean like how Jason Vorhees isn't technically the killer in Friday the 13th and Friday the 13th VI: A New Beginning. No, I mean there is nary a mention of Michael Myers, Laurie Strode, or the fictional town of Haddonfield, Illinois, throughout the entire film. Aside from a brief scene from the original Halloween being shown on a TV at one point, there is no acknowledgment of the previous films in the series.
Cynical cash-in? Well, yes and no. At the time, the filmmakers planned to leave Michael Myers dead (he did get blown to smithereens at the end of Halloween II, after all) and relaunch the franchise as a kind of horror anthology series, with a new but wholly unique Halloween film coming out every year. But while that's a great idea, it would have made a lot more sense had the first sequel not been a continuation of the original movie. So one can't help but conclude that the filmmakers were either hopelessly naive about audience expectations, or that this horror anthology idea was really just a rationalization for an obvious cash-in opportunity. In any case, the public was less than pleased by the apparent switcheroo, and Halloween III managed only a very modest profit. (Say what you will about horror movies, they're usually a smart investment; even the flops tend to recoup their ultra-modest budgets.)
Well that's all fascinating, you might say, but what about the movie? As it turns out, Halloween III: Season of the Witch stands on its own as a halfway decent early-80s horror film, and it's sufficiently season-appropriate as to make fantastic October viewing.
The always reliable Tom Atkins (of Night of the Creeps and Carpenter's The Fog) stars as alcoholic adulterer Dr. Dan Challis, who joins a young woman in investigating the bizarre death of her Halloween-mask-making father. Their search takes them to the aggressively Hibernian hamlet of Santa Mira, California, (also the name of the fictional town at the center of the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers), and its financial linchpin, Silver Shamrock Novelties. Silver Shamrock happens to have the most popular line of Halloween masks on the market, and they are tied into a big nationwide Halloween-night "horrorthon" and "big giveaway" that all the kids just have to tune into.
Why kids are falling over themselves to hear the most mind-meltingly insidious, irritatingly repetitive theme music in history is never really established, but it does play into the film's sly critique of holiday consumerism. As it happens, Silver Shamrock's president, Conal Cochran, is behind some very sinister doings. In an attempt to bring the festival of Samhain back to its Celtic roots (and, really, because he's just an impishly evil fucker), Conal and his minions have brought an entire monolith from Stonehenge to Santa Mira. Conveniently, Cochran tells us this during his Big Speech, which packs roughly thirty minutes' worth of explication into about two minutes of screen time. (Oh did I mention that his minions are actually superhumanly strong androids filled with an orange-ish goo somewhere between strained carrots and uncooked pumpkin pie filling?) Anyway, each Silver Shamrock mask contains a computer chip with a tiny sliver of Stonehenge embedded in it, and when the big "Happy Happy Halloween" broadcast signal is activated, all the kiddies at home with their masks on will have their heads melted and bugs and snakes will essentially pop out of their brains. It looks something like this: That Conal Cochran is quite the trickster, but his business acumen is shoddy at best. Melting consumers' faces off is a horrible way to encourage repeat customers. I won't give away the ending, but I will say that it's pretty great.
Obviously the Halloween III experiment was considered a failure by critics, audiences, and the filmmakers at the time (the film's reputation has improved considerably with time), and Michael Myers shambled back onto the screen in 1988's aptly titled Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers. Although it's hard to defend the filmmakers' logic at the time, it's equally difficult to imagine that the world needed another six Michael Myers films more than it needed a quirky horror anthology.
31 20-Something Days of Horror: The Movie-a-Day Horror Movie Halloween Countdown, Day 17
When it comes to getting things done on a schedule, you give me an inch and I'll take a nap. I've already gone from diligent worker bee to the stoned, C-level college student who's constantly making up stories about demagnetized floppy disks and broken printers and increasingly elaborate family tragedies in order to get a two-day extension on that big ten-page "Metaphysical versus Epistemological Interpretations of Hume's Critique of Causation" paper. (Did I seriously date myself with the floppy disc reference?) Suffice it to say, it's October 17 and my thirty-one-film Halloween countdown has covered exactly ten films...and that's including the present entry.
Pathetic.
Although the very notion of having a "favorite" something is always problematic, for any self-styled critic or overly committed cultural consumer there is the added pressure of having so-called "respectable" tastes and opinions. Although the very notion of "canon" should be anathema to the truly enlightened critical mind, there is nonetheless an understanding that you are supposed to "appreciate" (or at least have an opinion about), say, Fellini or Warhol or any number of other artists who can be referred to solely by their surname. This is especially the case with directors, despite the relative disrepute of auteur theory these days. I bring all this up because I would love to claim that my favorite director is Billy Wilder or Akira Kurosawa or Sam Fuller. I would be happy to say something mature and noncommittal (and undeniably pretentious) like, "The very notion of having a favorite director is limiting and ridiculous."
But my favorite director is John Carpenter. Specifically, John Carpenter from 1974 (the year Dark Star came out and, coincidentally, the year of my birth) through the 1988 release of They Live. Since the 1992 release of Memoirs of an Invisible Man (which also arguably ended Chevy Chase's "good" years), Carpenter has been on an extended cold streak, the highlight of which is probably the so/so (and completely batshit insane) In the Mouth of Madness.
Perhaps the most poorly regarded film of Carpenter's fertile period is the 1987 oddity Prince of Darkness, which happened to be released right when my dedication to horror movies was at its most fervid. Despite its spotty reputation, it remains one of my all-time faves; a bizarre, genuinely affecting victory of atmosphere over narrative.
Basically, a priest (a completely over-the-top Donald Pleasance) discovers the activities of a secret Catholic sect called The Brotherhood of Sleep, who have been charged over the centuries with guarding a big cylinder filled with swirling green goo; a sinister-looking lava lamp on steroids. Realizing that All Is Not Well, the priest enlists the help of a theoretical physicist and his crack team of graduate students to figure out What In The Hell Is Going On. This team includes the film's ostensible hero, a PhD candidate and amateur prestidigitator played by Jameson Parker (of Simon & Simon fame). The film's real hero, however, is Jameson Parker's Totally Awesome Mustache: In a nutshell, the team's investigation leads to the following revelations (so to speak): Jesus was an extraterrestrial; the cylinder is an elaborate, rapidly decaying prison for the son of the Devil; Satan himself is a kind of antimatter to God's matter; psychically speaking, the homeless are roughly on par with cockroaches and worms; you can send tachyon transmissions back in time to talk to people in their dreams; and Jameson Parker's Totally Awesome Mustache may not be powerful enough to save us all from oblivion. As you can see, despite the film's tenuous grasp of particle physics, calling Prince of Darkness a thinking man's horror movie is something of an understatement.
Like David Lynch's Dune, another unfairly maligned favorite of mine, Prince of Darkness was written off as uneven, dialogue-heavy, and "hard to follow." And, as is the case with Dune, these criticisms are spot-on. However, Prince of Darkness is also unremittingly creepy in a doomed, Lovecraftian way—it's the kind of vibe that few filmmakers aspire to anymore. Carpenter is an unparalleled master of atmospherics, using sparse, haunting music and wide open, almost sterile framing to produce an eerie feeling that borders on a kind of existential dread. Just consider the frozen wastes of The Thing or the abandoned suburban afternoons in Halloween. Isolation is the real enemy in these films (small wonder that Carpenter constantly returns to the "siege scenario" in his films), and in Prince of Darkness that isolation is simultaneously physical (the scientists are all trapped in a run-down urban church), emotional (the main characters are pointedly unable to articulate their romantic feelings for one another), and spiritual (Jesus was an alien and Good and Evil are reduced to subatomic abstraction). And really, what's scarier than facing unstoppable monsters all by your lonesome?
Prince of Darkness is best watched in the dark (otherwise it would be called Prince of Sufficient Lighting), with one or two friends. This is especially important afterwards as a) the film rewards a good post-viewing discussion; and b) you won't be able to go anywhere near a mirror by yourself for the next twelve hours or so. (It's not as bad as Candyman in this respect, but still...)
31 20-Something Days of Horror: The Movie-a-Day Horror Movie Halloween Countdown, Day 15
Okay, okay. So it turns out that thirty-one movie posts in thirty one days was a classic case of biting off more than one can chew. Especially when you throw a five-day weekend into the mix. It seems counter-intuitive, but booze-soaked vacations in tropical locations are not conducive to blogging. Who knew?? Anyway, let's get back to the spookin'...
Last night Kim and I turned off all the lights and I popped in The Tingler. Uh, let me rephrase that...
Last night Kim and I turned off the lights and I put in a DVD of William Castle's 1959 schlock-horror masterpiece, The Tingler. Vincent Price stars as Dr. Warren Chapin, a moderately creepy pathologist who takes time from his busy autopsy schedule to conduct research into the physiological manifestations of fear. His "experiments" (which include shooting himself up with massive doses of LSD) lead to the ever-so-plausible discovery of a parasitic creature that grows along the base of the spine during moments of terror, a creature that disappears when its host inevitably lets out a scream. After a hapless deaf-mute woman is frightened to death, the good doctor is able to remove one of the creatures, which promptly starts creeping around in a crowded movie theater.
And at this point the genius of William Castle shines through: "Amazing NEW TERROR Device Makes You A Living Participant in the FLESH-CRAWLING ACTION! PERCEPTO!" Ever the master of schlocky marketing gimmicks, Castle invented Percepto, which was essentially just a vibrating buzzer contraption installed in select theater seats. So, once the Tingler is released in the theater on screen, the buzzers go off and mayhem ensues. Castle even went so far as to hire "nurses" to wait in the lobby, lest all that terror should prove too much for some poor patron. The film also includes a brilliant scene in which a sink and a bathtub fill with bright red blood... even though the film was in black and white; the sequence was shot in color, and everything, including the actress' face, was painted in black and white.
Of course, The Tingler loses much of its charm in your living room, but it's still worth watching for the hilarious creature effects and some genuinely nasty dialogue between Warren and his cheating wife (check out the B-Movie review for sound clips, etc.). Besides, a film that so deeply influenced John Waters has to be good, right?
31 Days of Horror: The Movie-a-Day Halloween Countdown, Day Eight
Today we leave the 1980s behind and take a look at a nasty little gem from 1968 called Witchfinder General, which stars Vincent Price as Matthew Hopkins, the titular professional witch hunter. Set in the mid-1640s, amid the turmoil of the first English Civil War, the film splits time between Hopkins—who travels from town to town ferreting out "witches," torturing people for fun, and collecting fees for his troubles—and a young pro-Parliament soldier whose betrothed has been raped by Hopkins's brutal assistant.
Unlike the other films we'll discuss this month, Witchfinder General isn't a horror film, strictly speaking. There are no actual witches, most of the action takes place in broad daylight, and the torture scenes, while unpleasant, are largely historically accurate. At its core, the film is about the depravity of its title character, and the horrible toll his callous abuse of power takes on the innocents around him. But the very presence of Vincent Price, along with the fact that it was produced by Tigon British Film Productions, qualifies it at least as a "thriller." And speaking of Price, Matthew Hopkins is one of his finest creations—a creature of pure self-serving malevolence—and it's a remarkably subtle performance by Price standards. Perhaps adding to the its horrific mystique, director and co-writer Michael Reeves was found dead at the age of 25 after an accidental barbiturate overdose just months after the film's release.
Witchfinder General was released by American International Pictures in the U.S., but the title was changed to The Conqueror Worm. Although there is little more than a passing reference to Edgar Allen Poe's poem in the film, AIP was hoping to cash in on Roger Corman's successful string of Poe adaptations starring Vincent Price (such as The Fall of the House of Usher (1960), The Pit and the Pendulum (1961), and The Raven (1963)).
31 Days of Horror: The Movie-a-Day Halloween Countdown, Day Seven
A brief explanation of the split in America's cinematic zombie mythology:
After the 1968 release of Night of the Living Dead, a dispute between co-writers John A. Russo and George A. Romero resulted in Russo retaining the rights to the "Living Dead" portion of the title. Romero, who directed the original film, went on to complete his trilogy with Dawn of the Dead and Day of the Dead (he later expanded the series with Land of the Dead and last year's terrible Diary of the Dead). Romero's Dead films continued with essentially the same "rules" set forth in the original film: there is no explanation for the sudden reawakening of the dead, the zombies crave human flesh, and if you destroy the brain you kill (or, re-kill) the zombie.
Meanwhile, John Russo doesn't seem to have done much of anything until around 1984, when he tapped Dan O'Bannon to write the script for Return of the Living Dead, based on Russo's own novel of the same name. When Tobe Hooper (director of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Poltergeist) dropped out of the project in order to direct Lifeforce (we'll get to Lifeforce later this month), O'Bannon (who wrote the screenplay for Lifeforce, along with Dark Star, Alien, and Total Recall) agreed to try his hand at directing. Confused yet? The situation gets even more confusing when you consider the proliferation of unauthorized sequels to Dawn of the Dead in Italy, but that's a story for another time.
Anyway, Return of the Living Dead came out in 1985, bringing with it a mordant sense of humor, an amazing punk-rock soundtrack featuring TSOL, the Flesh Eaters, and the Cramps, and an entirely new set of rules for the undead.
As you can see from the trailer, the whole "destroy the brain" thing doesn't work anymore, which means, in technical terms, that everyone is royally screwed. The zombies can also run and talk... although they mostly just repeat the word "brains." As you can also tell from the trailer, the movie is ruthlessly funny, employing the "deadpan" humor that also characterized so many mid-80s cult-horror classics.
For any fan of the horror-comedy genre (think Re-Animator, Dead Alive, Evil Dead 2, etc.) or for anyone looking for a great 1980s punk/new wave fix, I cannot recommend this film enough.
31 Days of Horror: The Movie-a-Day Halloween Countdown, Days Five and Six
Troll 2 (1990) is among the most celebrated bad movies of the last twenty years—a film whose technique, acting, and plot are so mind-bogglingly inept that no one knows quite how to read it. Is it the nadir of direct-to-video exploitation filmmaking? An avant-garde camp masterpiece? A loveable slice of outsider art? As Scott Tobias points out in his incredible New Cult Canon piece, a lot depends on whether or not the filmmakers are in on the joke, but no consensus exists on that central question.
Rather than regurgitate the plot, I'll simply refer you to Mr. Tobias's article, the Wikipedia entry, and the trailer for the upcoming Troll 2 documentary, Best Worst Movie. I'll just sum up by saying, "You can't piss on hospitality."
On the other end of the sequel spectrum, we have Don Coscarelli's cult favorite Phantasm II (1988). I had planned a lengthy entry, but I was unable to watch the film again because, as I was surprised and saddened to learn, the film has never had a domestic release on DVD.
Based on what I can remember, Phantasm II is essentially a remake of the original, with the addition of a psychic blond chick and more bloody action from the series' trademark killer silver orbs:
In a nutshell, a tall scary guy called (imaginatively) the Tall Man runs a mortuary in which he turns dead bodies into hooded dwarf slaves. Yes, you read that sentence correctly. Some good guys attempt to thwart his evil plans. Shotguns and killer balls and Druid dwarfs... needless to say its a favorite among both horror fans and stoners. Anyway, if you still own a VCR, it's an essential Halloween treat.
The thin dividing line between a little touch of the chic new vulgarity and the absolute dead end
All mp3 links on *bitter defeat* are intended for sampling purposes only. If you, your band, your label, or your legal representatives want a song pulled, down it will come. Conversely, if you wanna send mp3s of your band's songs, go for it. I might post about it. Then the blogosphere might blow up with your track. Then you might end up snorting blow from a groupie's cleavage while you fly on P. Diddy's jet. Just remember me when that happens... and try to invite me along. Sincerely, the management.
