Fucking Hilarious

Check this out. Seriously.

Trey Gunn

Post-Nutz.

Seriously.  "21st Schizoid Man" done by ONE MAN.

Name's Seamus, But You Can Call Me Rabbit

Last night my boss was kind enough to have the entire company out to a restaurant for drinks, food, and comedy.  That's right, comedy.  Two comedians were hired to perform for us shortly after dinner.   And perform they did.  Ever the cynic, I thought we'd be graced by two hacks. Dane Cook apprentices.  These are low expectations when you consider the fact that Dane Cook is the antithesis of funny.  

To my surprise, these two comedians ended up being pretty hilarious.  While I am sure they held off on some more risque material, they did broach some taboos with comedic results; race, viagra, sexual orientation, etc.  It wasn't quite high brow but it did the trick for a Wednesday evening.  By the time the "headliner" took to the "stage" I was finishing my second Bombay Sapphire and Tonic.  I wasn't drunk, nor was I buzzed, but I could tell I'd had two adult beverages.  Make sense?  Know where I'm at here?  I'm trying to set the scene.  

So my table was right in front of the comedian, set just off to his left.  He had the crowd going pretty well.  If there were any dissenters that weren't laughing or enjoying themselves, I certainly didn't notice them.  

At some point he ends up in a diatribe about Sex and The City.  I'll admit it; I've seen Sex and the City before.  Definitely more than I'd like to admit.  Most men who've ever had girlfriends in the past 10 years will likely have to concur, however.  Like most of what's on E!, and most reality television for that matter, I felt the show celebrated materialism and vapidity to a disconcerting degree, but that's really neither here nor there.  I just so happened to be a college student with a girlfriend during its peak in popularity.  

So, there I am, somewhat familiar with Sex & The City and much of its cultural fallout, and this guy says, "So she had a dildo.  They all did.  And do you know what this dildo was called?"

He'd barely finished lobbing himself this rhetorical question when I blurted out, "Rabbit."  Now, it doesn't take very long to say "Rabbit."  Amazing then that it took long enough for me to have thought why I was saying it, "Why am I saying this??"

I stole the comedian's thunder, ruined his impending punch-line, and, in so doing, actually became the punch-line.  I won't say my public misstep drew more laughter than any other joke that was told last night, but it was definitely up there.

Later, having come back to the banquet room from the bathroom, I was greeted by a large co-ed group of co-workers ranging in ages from 28 to 60 who were standing in a circle, "Heeeeeey! Rabbit.  Look everybody!  It's Raaaabbit."

Yeah...  Sweet.             

Big Electric Cat

Aside from having been given an opportunity to prove his chops by Frank Zappa as a relative unknown in the late 70's, Adrian Belew contributed to the Talking Heads' Remain in Light, also playing with the band on its adjacent tour, played with David Bowie in support of "Heroes", and is credited for his session work in the recording of Paul Simon's Graceland.  Though the lineup didn't bear as much fruit as I had eagerly anticipated, Les Claypool and Danny Carey can be heard on bass and drums for the first two tracks of Side 1, the first in a line of four recent Belew solo albums. Oh, and he just so happens to have fronted my favorite King Crimson amalgamations since 1981.  

I experienced Adrian Belew's Power Trio Sunday night at the Natick Center for the Arts.  I was literally situated in the front row seat precisely in front of him.  An extremely intimate venue -sold out crowd of 200- I easily could have shaken Belew's hand, and would have, if not for the overexcited retard seated to my left who did exactly that immediately after Belew took to the stage.  (In a crowd of 200, of course I end up seated next to the only hippie, reeking of pachouli, bad breathe, and seemingly intent on sticking his goddamn pony tail in my mouth during repeated fits of musical ecstasy.)  The opener was actually a joke.  Not a good one though.  I'm still curious how he got the gig.  This guy was a pop singer-songwriter with a couple of looping pedals and no band. I was actually embarrassed for him. Situated, as I mentioned, in the front row, I felt obligated to try to look engaged, but this guy was killing me. I actually hypothesized between his set and the main event that Belew must have a gambling problem and had, prior to this tour, hit a streak of really bad luck, and, in order to settle an overwhelming debt, he had taken his bookie's brother in law out of his parents' basement and on tour.  

My compatriot, for whom I was presumptuous enough to buy a ticket thinking he'd easily be won over by the music, was underwhelmed.  While he did claim to have enjoyed himself, he also declared as we walked to the car afterwards: "I'm just not a prog guy".  I guess he was looking for something a little less "out there".  Alt-country maybe?  More like Girls Guns and Glory, for whom he had played the bongos up until very recently. All kidding aside, as I'm sure he'd be perturbed at any attempt to pigeonhole his taste in music, I think he was looking for something a bit more organic....  

Bass player, Julie Slick, is only 22 years old.  She's a more than capable player; was even a little cute.  Being 22 and on tour with Adrian Belew only accentuated this. The fact that she played barefoot was somewhat appealing as well.  Not in a pervy foot fetish way, just that it made her seem vulnerable and self-assured at the same time; a dynamic I never would have expected at a "prog" show.  Her brother Eric Slick plays the drums.  I still have a hard time believing he's only 20.  He was not only competent enough to merely keep time when necessary, but he was more often carry passages within songs better than any drummer I've ever seen live short of Stanton Moore.    

Belew was literally surrounded by pedals.  Right in front of me on the stage he had a "Boomerang phrase looping machine".  I think it's safe to say he, like Robert Fripp, has  wholeheartedly embraced and utilizes technology's potential role in breaking new musical ground.  While Brendan seemed put off by it, or at least found it distracting, I felt, as my father put it, to have "vastly expanded his sonic palette".  To refer to Adrian Belew as a "good guitarist"  is an abomination.  The things he does with a guitar are awe-inspiring.

The interplay between the three was fun to watch.  Good musicians play but great musicians listen to each other while they play.  While Belew was undoubtedly the driving force, the Slicks took and gave cues to each other and Belew, allowing for instrumental passages to take on lives of their own.    

To my surprise, I am familiar enough with Side 1 though Side 4 to have recognized the vast majority of the set immediately.  Somewhat unexpectedly, they closed with two King Crimson songs, one of which is one of my favorites: "Three of a Perfect Pair".

If you're interested (though the sound quality is a bit lacking):

"Madness"

"Ampersand"

"Big Electric Cat"

Late

Well, this link isn't timely but it's still hilarious.  Check out this interview with the Australian kid that had that raging party while his parents were out of town.  I'm pretty sure these clowns were all there.

Get Lost

Moose and I tore through Lost's first season at a torrent pace unrivaled in any corner of the US and A.  Being late, or last as the case may be, to catch on to a worthwhile pop culture phenomenon isn't a common occurrence for me.  I'm usually at least somewhere between the first and second wave or a vocal dissenter.  With Lost, however, our reluctance ended up paying off.  Having taken 3 to 4 years to even watch an episode, we afforded ourselves the luxury of watching Lost unfold uninterrupted by commercials and on our own time.  In this day and age, these perks cannot be overestimated.  As I have mentioned previously, however, the show is not without flaws.  Perhaps it's biggest achievement is the way it overcomes them and is somehow a very likable, watchable network television drama.    

The show somehow manages to overcome a cast comprised of characters I'm compelled to hate for various reasons, yet inexplicably find myself liking and rooting for.   Charlie's band was painfully lame.  It's difficult to take his character seriously, as is intended, armed with the memory of Driveshaft's hit single, "You All Everybody".  Never mind the fact that we're supposed to imagine a world where Driveshaft wouldn't get punted off the stage at your average middle school battle of the bands, but we're also supposed to believe that a band with a popularity built on this song  could have a tortured but talented, drug addled songwriter and bass player?!  It took me at least a couple of episodes to reach a point where I could watch and listen to Charlie without laughing and singing that goddamn song.   

Sayid's character is somehow likable even though he indiscriminately gazes tenderly upon his counterparts like he is but moments away from that momentous first kiss. Doesn't matter if he's torturing Sawyer, being tortured by that butt-pig French broad, or actually moments away from a first kiss with Shannon, he's simultaneously doing whatever it is he's doing AND honing the art of seduction.  

Fortunately for me, this show has much more going for it than against it.  Allegory, countless questions begging answers, blood, polar bears, guns, monsters (perhaps), crazy French broads, tropical location, etc,   Jack and Locke were both Christ-like savior figures right off the bat.  As the season wore on, however, it became apparent that each man was a potential savior in modes that will eventually be at odds.  Although viscerally I like both characters- Jack, a man of science and reason, and Locke, a man of faith- I've also enjoyed the way, at least up until this point, Jack's goodness and ethics exceed Locke's in terms of overall merit.  There is something strange about this island; something that defies convention could take these two characters, as they relate to one another, to some interesting places.         

Will Jack and Kate ever become romantically involved?  I sure hope so.  Cause then I'll be able to stop rooting for it like some chick in the waning moments before her period.  It's just like a hot chick too, for some incomprehensible reason to be drawn to an asshole like Sawyer.  I know, I know, their characters have similarly ambivalent pasts to such a degree that they identify with one another. But give me a break.  Good guy, hot chick.  It's supposed to happen. The fact that it hasn't, however, is interesting.

Okay, since I'm getting tired I'm going to wrap this up with some questions begging for answers in season 2:

How does Locke know so much crazy shit?        

Will Charlie relapse?  

Can someone please kill Shannon?

What's in that hatch?

Why are there polar bears on a tropical island?

There are other people, aren't there?  

What almost pulled Locke into the ground?  

When will Jack's character flaws reveal themselves?  

Will Jin, Mike, and Sawyer find Walt?  Will they escape?

Who were those bastards that took Walt?  Some of the "Others"?             

What makes Walt "special"?

What's Claire's deal for real?

What's the deal with those numbers?

How come no one has come across a snake?  St. Patrick?

Where are all the bugs?

Under these circumstances, wouldn't people start pairing off if for no other reason than to blow off some steam?        

And finally, though not a question, Hurley's annoying.  He says "dude" way too much.  And not in a funny way like that dude at a football game in those beer commercials.       

Life on Mars

*Does this album cover remind anyone else of Bitches Brew?

At the Drive-In emerged from El Paso Texas in the mid-1990's.  Having established a popularity and following based largely upon frenetic live performances, the band eventually broke up due, at least in part, to creative differences.  I heard Deloused at the Comatorium, The Mars Volta's first album, for the first time in 2003.  I had only months earlier taken a liking to At the Drive-In, The Mars Volta's post-hardcore predecessor.  I loved Deloused so much that I eventually played it to death.  It was everything At the Drive-In could have become but didn't.  Apparently, it was actually divergent ambitions that led to At the Drive-In's split.  While Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodríguez-López, who would become the founding members of The Mars Volta, wanted to take progression and experimentation to new heights, the other half of At the Drive-In would end up meandering in the opposite direction in Sparta.

Frances the Mute, their second studio effort, confused the hell out of me.   I couldn't tell you whether I agreed with friends, the music media and their assertion that the band's promise was being squelched by its pretension, or if they were just struggling to commit to a sound or musical direction.  Make no mistake, however, Frances the Mute is self-indulgent and schizophrenic. I guess, for me, these characterizations don't carry the negative connotations that they often intended.  Eventually, well after the release of Amputechture in 2006, I came to appreciate certain elements within certain sequences of certain tracks on Frances.  Not enough that I felt compelled to get my hands on Amputechture, but enough that I would defend the band in conversations where I felt they were levied unduly harsh criticism for making some of the music that colors the sonic fringes.  

Well, I just bought Bedlam in Goliath, their fourth and most recent studio output, and while it will take numerous listens to fully metabolize, it is already very apparent that Bedlam is much more cohesive than at least Frances the Mute.  And enough so that I'll likely be filling the gap in my collection ironically with Amputechture in the near future.  

For those of you who have never heard The Mars Volta, and to borrow from a sloppy Rolling Stone technique of which I've been a vocal critic (got hypocrisy?), the following influences can be heard in The Mars Volta sound:

Robert Fripp  

At The Drive-In

Pink Floyd

Geddy Lee

Mahavishnu Orchestra

Led Zeppelin

Santana