I Am A Crack Journalist

So why the long delay in posts this time? Have I grown tired of wallowing in my own crapulence? No, I've just been busy with school.

Yeah, school! I made the decision before the summer that my life needed a new direction, because frankly, I didn't like the direction I was going in at the time. I was hurtling towards mediocrity, and that didn't really sit well. I needed a new challenge, something different, something with an interesting future. So I applied for the Radio & Television program at NAIT, and was very lucky to have been accepted for the radio side of it. So far, radio has been everything I hoped it would be, namely, a chance for me to talk. And talk without ever having to hear, "you don't ever shut up, do you?".

Not only does the program come with the benefits of a hands-on education, but opportunities for really fun side projects, as well. I've started writing periodically for the Nugget, NAIT's student newspaper. Because of this, I've done a couple interviews so far, my first of which almost led me to have fanboy aneurysms. I was very fortunate to be able to interview Alex Rosamilia of The Gaslight Anthem, one of my newest favourite bands, before their show at the Edmonton Event Centre on September 26. Here is that interview that was published in the Nugget on October 1.

GASLIGHT, GAS BRIGHT

The Gaslight Anthem got to the half-way point of their set at the Edmonton Event Centre, when frontman Brian Fallon has to ask a few questions of the writhing, sweat-soaked and madly enthusiastic crowd in front of him:

“Where did you all come from? How do you know us? Is it the internet?”

Their ever-rising popularity continues to baffle members of The Gaslight Anthem, even though their ascension up the ranks of rock’s pantheon is no fluke. This New Brunswick, New Jersey foursome has worked hard for their dues, and that work is finally paying off, garnering the passionate attention of the masses and almost universal critical praise. Not to mention some rock royalty attention and appreciation, as well. Fellow New Jersey native Bruce Springsteen is always mentioned when discussing the band’s sound, and fortunately for them, the Boss really likes their stuff. So much so, that he’s asked to play live with them on occasion, like at this summer’s Hard Rock Calling in London. Since the release of their debut album, Sink or Swim, in 2007, TGA have followed with the EP, Señor and the Queen, and the full-length The '59 Sound, and created a sound that ranges from raucous punk to emotional retro-rock.

Lead singer/guitarist Fallon, drummer Benny Horowitz, bassist Alex Levine and lead guitarist Alex Rosamilia are currently on the last leg of a seemingly endless tour lasts lasted a year and a half. I was able to catch up with Rosamilia in Edmonton about how they spent their summer, Kelly Clarkson covers and Japanimation.

It’s been only five months since you’ve been in Edmonton for a gig at the Starlite Room. How is it playing in a mall?

You know, it’s funny, because when I found out, I had went to the mall that was near the Starlite the last time we were here, and I heard we were playing the mall in Edmonton, but I was at that mall! Where the hell are we gonna play? I didn’t realize it was this place. This isn’t a mall, it’s a village. It’s huge!

You’ve been on tour for a pretty long time in support of The ’59 Sound. About a billion years maybe?

When was it out? ‘Cause it’s been since then, until now.

And you’ve been around the world, and you’ve played a lot of festivals this summer, like Lollapalooza, Glastonbury, Hard Rock Calling. And I was very lucky to see you at Sasquatch. How is the festival experience for you?

We played all of them, I think. Sasquatch was fun. That venue was gorgeous, unreal. The festival is different than this, doing club shows and touring professionally. It’s two totally different animals. The festival is so regimented and everything’s in 15-minute increments. You have to show up between this time and this time, and load up from this time to this time, with like, four hours in between. There’s more time with club shows. Instead of ten minutes to line check, there’s an hour and a half. So you get to work on things. We learned trusty chords today.

You played early on the first day at Sasquatch. Do you get to stick around, or do you have to zip off to another show?

Well, sometimes we’d have to leave because the drive was so long. But when we stay, I like to venture out. I got to see Radiohead in Redding which was pretty cool, and the Flaming Lips. I go out in the crowd, because I like going to shows just as anybody else.

I’ll have to admit that I lost it a little when you played Pearl Jam's “State Of Love And Trust” at Sasquatch. How do you choose covers to play?

It’s funny, because it just kind of happens. One day, Brian (lead singer Fallon) played the progression and said, “Oh, that’s that song!” And then Ben (drummer Horowitz) started playing it on the drums, and we thought that was a good song so we should learn it. We like mixing it up. We like playing covers. Covers are fun.

There’s one cover in particular, which at first I thought was weird, but then thought it was kind of interesting because of the delivery. Brian’s version of Kelly Clarkson’s “I Do Not Hook Up” for BBC Radio One.

I was there for that! That was interesting. Brian was given a list of songs, so he picked the one that was most out of left field. It was the wackiest by far.

Going back to 2007’s Sink Or Swim, on “We’re Getting A Divorce, You Keep The Diner”, the opening lines are from Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust (“Ready or not, here they come... it’s zombie time!”)

I think you’re the only second person that’s ever gotten that!

Are you the anime fan in the band?

Yeah, that’s me. When we wrote the song, it wasn’t there. I used to have a loop pedal, and that was one of three staples. One was for use for a side project, one was a line from Braveheart, and one was that line. At shows, I used to throw it in there before anybody could think about it. Then I was doing it at practice, and when we went to record it, I just hit the button. Force of habit, I guess.

So this is the last tour before the new album, and someone in the band mentioned that it might be a Social Distortion/Elvis Costello-type rocker.

Definitely a departure from The ’59 Sound. It could, it might not be, I don’t know. We haven’t done anything yet. Well, we’ve been working on stuff, but there’s no keystone yet. We’re fiddling with that stuff, and there’s some Fleetwood Mac in there. I’m about ready to write some new stuff. I’ve got the itch.

Black Dynamite!

If you've been following this blog for a long time, then you must be my mom (hi mom!). If you're not, you may not have read a post I did a while back in September of 2006 regarding a "movie of the day". It was a blaxploitation gem called Black Belt Jones, a movie that will stand proud in the grand pantheon of historic African-American film, because of it's portrayal of strong black characters, the urban scene and the socio-economic conflicts that existed in the 1970s. Also, "mothafucka" gets said a lot, and that's awesome.

I've always had a huge interest in blaxploitation, because it was a genre that pulled no punches. Sure, the genre didn't produce the greatest works of celluloid, and most of the films are laughable today, but that doesn't mean that the filmmakers don't deserve our respect. They made the films they wanted to, regardless of what The Man thought. Right on, brothers. Right on. Blaxploitation hasn't really had any sort of resurgence, and outside of Undercover Brother, and the Grindhouse double-feature (which only had winks to the style), there hasn't been any film that's tried to re-capture the look, sound and genuine ferocity of the films of the 70's. Until now.

Black Dynamite is about to explode into theatres (hopefully, this October). And for all you suckas who don't know, Black Dynamite's a mean cat who's gonna make trouble for bad muthas. According to IMDB, Black Dynamite "is the story of 1970s African-American action legend Black Dynamite. The Man killed his brother, pumped heroin into local orphanages, and flooded the ghetto with adulterated malt liquor. Black Dynamite was the one hero willing to fight The Man all the way from the blood-soaked city streets to the hallowed halls of the Honky House."

Matter of fact, this could be the greatest film of the year. Of course, I say that about every film that I come across and get man-excited for, but I'm serious this time! Even though the film is a spoof/homage, it doesn't mean that it won't be great times infinity. This isn't another "_____ Movie" movie, and I ain't talking no jive! Just check out the trailer, and you'll know what I mean. Get your $100 suits on and let's get it goin'!

There Will Be Another Firefight!

"And shepherds we shall be, for Thee, my Lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand, that our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command. So we shall flow a river forth to Thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be."

If you're like me, then you've got October 30th circled on your calendars (if you are like me, then maybe you shouldn't get so damn excited about films. Seriously). It's not because that day is Devil's Night, but because a long-awaited sequel will explode into theatres. That film is The Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day, and for that, you can get excited no matter how much of me you're like. This is a film that's been on the waiting list for ten long fucking years, and it's almost finally here. Just barely two months from now. Thankfully, while we wait, we can enjoy a most excellent trailer that gives us exactly what the first film offered: guns, violence, militant Irish-Catholicism and some good old Irish punk rock. What it also offers, that the first film didn't, is a woman. Thank God. The first film, although immensely awesome in its own right, was a sausage fest.

Now, some may argue that Troy Duffy's original film was a cheap rip-off of any film by Tarantino or Scorsese, and that it's a film that lacks any character development or creation of dialogue regarding its subject matter (vigilante justice), but who the fuck cares? Not all films have to be dissected and discussed as if somehow they'll prove a window to the recesses of our souls or provide a societal understanding. Screw that. The Boondock Saints was entertaining, well-shot and had a great score. Also, it made me even more uncomfortable with Willem Dafoe. Which I didn't think was possible. After watching the first film again, how does anyone truly believe he could pull off a convincing woman? He's fucking scary looking! However, at least Willem had some of the best dialogue in the film. Who can argue the sheer voracity in which he attacks this scene? It still gives me chills.

Check out the TBDSII trailer here:

True Patriot Love - Part Two

Yes, it's been a while. I took almost a month off from blogging. I had to. From the end of May until August 5, I was working full-time, seven days a week at two jobs. When I came home, the last thing I wanted to do was sit in front of the computer and rant about rampant idiocy or reminisce about cheap toys. I really just wanted to sleep. Plus, it's been pretty hot, what with it being summer and all (too hot for me, anyways. I radiate enough heat by myself, I don't need Earth's help). Since my computer is in an upstairs room, it gets too uncomfortable to type most days. I really didn't want to post while sitting in a self-made pool of ball and ass sweat. Awesome picture I just painted for you, isn't it?

All gross images aside, I've had some time to myself, some wonderful times with friends, some great trips and great adventures, but now it's back to business. Maybe not everyday business, but at the very least, I can assure you that I won't take a month off again. Unless I get a girlfriend. Then I'll be taking care of a different kind of business. Ah, who am I kidding? I'm a living joke.

I introduced this new series of posts back in May when I featured Canada's most prolific album-spewing DJ, Chris Sheppard. Now I've come across another one of Canada's best: KIDSTREET!


(promo video here for Facebook users)

Kidstreet was a game show I watched without fail as a kid, mostly because it had the best prizes, and it was a show where I could feel happy that I was smarter than the dumb kids from out east or Calgary (especially Calgary). It was hosted by Kevin Frank, who always told some stupid kids joke at the beginning and sometimes assaulted contestants with toys or cue cards. It was a show that when watching, my sister and I could bond, as opposed to our vicious fighting the other 23.5 hours of the day (yeah, we probably fought while we slept). The point of the show was for pairs of kids, usually siblings, to try and guess what their counterpart would answer to various questions. Kind of a Newlywed Game for kids. My sister and I would always brag that we would always be able to guess what each other would say, even though as kids, we hated each other, and if prizes weren't on the line, we'd probably both throw the game just to make the other lose as well.

After rounds of questions to each partner separately, the winning team would get a chance to solve the "rebus", which was a bastardization of Classic Concentration. If they did solve it, the team would get a king's ransom in toys and prizes. And that was the draw of the show. The amount of toys and prizes were off the charts. I'd tune in every time to see what was being given away, and what I'd be putting on my Christmas list. Also, most of the kids playing were semi-retarded, so it was great fun to mock them. Take a look at the first part of this video and listen to the second contestant talk.


(Facebook click here)

Oh Matthew. You're one lawn dart in the head away from being fully handicapped. Or maybe you're just nervous. I always hated when the kids told stories after their answers. Like who the fuck cares if your Mom sleeps nude sometimes? Wait, maybe his mother might have been a hooker. I do like that there's a Tyler in contestant's row, but I don't agree with his haircut. He's got a hair part that looked like it's been gouged into his skull. On a side note, why do all the contestants clap over their heads? What's that all about? And as for the red team, whose parents obviously can't fucking spell (Allyne and Maellody? Seriously?), watch Allyne have an aneurysm at 4:07 of part two. Nothing's going on upstairs there, kids.

So to Kidstreet, for giving my sister and I reason to truce for a little while and for letting me make fun of other kids, I give you some True Patriot Love.

Welcome To The 21st Century, Programs!

Well, it's finally been confirmed. "Tron 2.0", or whatever it was called initially, has been given its official title: Tron Legacy. And the first trailer for what will certainly be a pants-creamer of a film has been released at this year's Comic-Con. Check it out here or watch it in the recommended HD version.

If any of you grew up in the 80s, Tron was one of those cool, but seemingly dorky films you came to love and appreciate. It wasn't some hand-animated schmaltz-fest with animals and moral lessons, it was a before its time story of artificially-intelligent computers bent on domination, crooked humans and a plucky young video game programmer. It was awesome, plain and simple. And the computer-generated animation and effects were light-years ahead of anything else in 1982. It was a film that fully immersed the viewer in an electronic world and sent imaginations in new directions. At least it did for me. Now, with a new film to open in 2011, we can re-visit this world again, this time with the help of new computer graphics, high-def images and sexy Olivia Wilde.

I'm in full-bore for this film, no matter how bad it could be. What will be the acid-test, however, for director Joseph Kosinski is if he does an admirable job with the remake of Logan's Run, one of my favourite films ever. It's slated to be released next year, and if he fucks that up, I will have diminished hopes for Tron Legacy. I'll still see it of course, but I won't have to bring back-up underwear.

TV Intros That Are Cooler Than You

Last week, I wrote a post that very few people understood (my mother, for one) because it dealt with the personification of a non-sentient entity, namely the day known as Friday. Admittedly, I was kind of bored at work on an otherwise uneventful afternoon, so I decided to write something a little different. Big deal, is what I thought at the time. But I suppose that's not keeping with the original theme of this blog, which celebrated it's third anniversary last Saturday! Yay! What turned out to be a simple excuse to avoid doing any work, while actually looking like I'm during work, has made it to three years. Strange how the initial reason for starting this has stayed the same... Anyways, I'd like to bring this blog back to form. Back to it's roots. And that means talking about meaningless pop-culture banalities.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I decided to move to my parent's house a few months ago as a means to save money while I'm preparing to go back to school, and stay there while in school for the next couple years. This hasn't been as soul-crushingly terrible as I originally envisioned it, but rather, it's actually been fairly tolerable. Probably because my parents are fairly cool, and I'm a fucking man. However, the fact that they subscribe to Telus TV is going to introduce some serious conflicts very soon. Most concerning is that Telus TV does not carry AMC, and therefore I cannot watch first-run episodes of the new season of Mad Men. I am troubled by this, but I will find a way to circumvent my impending issue of contention. I suppose I could wait for it on DVD, but that's a stupid idea. How dare you even suggest that?

Since I've been thinking about Mad Men, and waiting for the new season, I've been watching previous episodes while frothing at the mouth and obtaining pleasure of the mind. If you've never watched the show, there's one thing that stands out right from second one: the opening credits. Opening credits don't just tell you who the actors are or who produced the show, they should set the tone, theme and style of the show. They serve the ultimate purpose: the credits should give you an idea on whether the show is amazing, mediocre, or fucking terrible. (anyone who remembers the opening credits for Full House or Dawson's Creek knows what I'm talking about).

Here are eleven of my favourite opening credit sequences that are the epitome of cool. Popsicle-Pete Double-Treat cool. Once you've seen their intro, you know that these shows are just going to kick serious ass. Times ten.



11. BAND OF BROTHERS

One of the best HBO series of all time has one of the best openings, which is hauntingly beautiful and striking. The images and score truly capture the style and quality of the show. Also, guns are cool.



10. LOST

Alright, this intro freaks me out. It's the shortest by far, but damn if it isn't effective. It sets a mood rife with disorientation, mystery and suspense, just as the show does (in its better seasons).



9. HAWAII FIVE-O

There was a time when a theme song made a TV show. As much as you want to argue that The Rembrandts' "I'll Be There For You" made Friends, it didn't. That song sucks, and Friends sucked. Hawaii Five-O on the other hand, is so damn sexy, I bet you got pregnant just making eye contact with Jack Lord.



8. KNIGHT RIDER

"A shadowy flight into the dangerous world of a man who does not exist". That is fucking awesome! This was when David Hasselfhoff was the man, and not some McDonald's eating drunk. There were the usual 80's cheese in this show, but can you honestly say that the intro bass line doesn't bleed cool with every note?

7. THE X-FILES

Let me run down the awesomess for you: lots of creepy visuals, pre-sex obsessed David Duchovny, hot Gillian Anderson, UFO stuff, more creepy visuals, FBI things, conspiracies... All adds up to a fantastic show (that sadly lost its way a bit with the alien plot lines) with a fantastically moody opening.

6. THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN

If there was any intro that instantly made you think "Yes! If I try to jump from my sixth story apartment to the building next door, miss, and die after splattering my carcass across the pavement below, I can be brought back as a superhuman! We have the technology."





5 (tie). TWILIGHT ZONE AND THE OUTER LIMITS

Nobody did plot twists like these two shows, and their original intros set the standard for intros that make you uncomfortable, yet engaged. Though each series began airing in the late fifties and early sixties respectively, the mood and style are second to none. I'm creeped out while watching them, but I can't look away. Kind of like little people.

3. THE A-TEAM

The A-Team was a favourite show of mine as a kid, and the opening sequence is a thing of beauty. You want violence? You got it. You want an awesome back story about a rogue military outfit? You've got that, too. You want Mr. T giving you the most bad-ass look while in a car? You've got your cream-jeans on now.



2. MAD MEN

This is the best opening sequence on TV today. It's as sexy as ten young Elizabeth Taylors, and as cool as twenty Billy Dee Williams' (any age). The style of the 60's combined with the sense of losing control is played very effectively. It makes me dream of a simpler time of political incorrectness and drinking at work.

1. CAPTAIN POWER AND THE SOLDIERS OF THE FUTURE.

Before Terminator and The Matrix, there was Captain Power. Set in a world where man fought machine, and machine won (unsurprisingly - humans suck), this show was the best live-action show on Saturday morning. With special toy guns that interacted with the show, kids like me truly believed they were in a dystopic future. The intro has everything kids (like me) and adults (also me) want: violence, destruction and shiny costumes.

Any opening sequence I forgot? And don't say Dexter. I haven't watched it enough to blow my mind on its intro.

Friday

I sit at my desk, peering out into the atrium two stories below, wondering if somehow the clock found a way to reverse itself. It seems like it’s only been a matter of minutes for hours now. The end of the day is so achingly close to being here. The end of another work week is almost ready to announce its arrival, and it could not come a moment too soon. I'm dying a slow death inside, because I want it so much. I need it.

Friday. It can’t get here fast enough. I almost want to scream out in irritated frustration. Why can’t I go now? Why can’t I run out of this building and caress Friday the way I want to, with such willful abandon and unbridled emotion that it would make all other days enraged with jealousy? Why can't I make Friday love me? The questions swirl and stir in my mind, repeating themselves louder and louder with each passing minute. I try to maintain calm as I remind myself that I have a very special task ahead.

I switch my glance away from the atrium and prompt my creative centres of my mind to get working on the duty at hand: seducing Friday night. A task very few have tried to undertake, and even fewer have succeeded in doing. I think about my plan; solid, but not too rigid. Free to flow, free to improvise. Friday and I will spend some quality time getting to know one another initially. Perhaps in some dimly-lit corner of a local tavern. Perhaps by the window of a trendy coffee shop. We'll start with some small talk about the towns we grew up in. Where we first went to school. Our best friends growing up. We’ll chat about our various hobbies, what we like to do when we have the time, what we’d love to do, if we had the time. Perhaps a well-placed joke, an engaging anecdote. It will get more and more casual as the time progresses, I’ll make sure of that. I don’t want to seem to anxious, but I don’t want to appear aloof, uncaring. I want to show just the right amount of interest to Friday, but I don’t want it to feel like I’m some love-struck geekboy, only wanting to see what Friday has underneath its irresistible exterior. I can see Friday now. It's curvaceous form, its unbridled sensuality. Of all the days, Friday knows it's the one most coveted, most thought over, most desired.

Our conversation will inevitably dance around topics such as past or present loves. When this happens, I'll begin to become a bit more cynical, bitter, showing a vulnerable side Friday won't resist in prying for more information. I'll reluctantly reveal some heartfelt feelings to Friday, but not in any obvious way, but with an air of nonchalance, which may pique Friday's curiosity. It'll start to wonder if there is more to me than this masculine shroud I wear, more to me than my flippant descriptions of those who have made my heart seem cold. When this happens, my plan will come to its zenith. Friday will be drawn in with thoughts of a man whose mystery and vulnerability may frighten it initially, but its fear will be replaced with an urge to get to know me more. Get to know the real man inside.

And with that, my plan will have almost succeeded. By tonight's end Friday will know that it's the one day I can't live without. It's the day I won't live without.

The only way my plan can fail is if Friday finds out about Saturday. It's not my fault that Saturday turned the tables on me, but Saturday could captivate anyone with it's beguiling charms. I know I'm weak. If my plan with Friday doesn't work out, I will crawl back to Saturday. Saturday is hot, though.

You won't say a word, will you?