Music, Music, Music & Film Reviews, Too
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Music, Music, Music, Part 1
Music Review By Trey Beats
TreyBeats
Cake
"Comfort Eagle"
Trey Rates It: 71 out of 100
PROS Just as ironic and catchy as Fashion Nugget CONS Fashion Nugget is
not Cake's best album BOTTOM LINE Cake keeps the biting wit and melodic
chanting coming, but seemingly empty songs leave something to be desired
Like a beetle with its head and legs chopped off, Cake has been somehow
able to survive even after losing its guitarist, Greg Brown, and bassist,
Victor Damiani. Perhaps it's a testament to the cult following Cake has
been supported by for years, but most likely it's evidence that lead vocalist
and lead guitar John McCrea is the brains behind the outfit, kind of like
Dick Cheney but not evil. Ever since Capricorn records signed the band
in 1995, McCrea's Cake has transformed from one-hit wonder novelty-rock
to mainstay country-soul-funk-rock music doused in irony. Fashion Nugget,
their second album, contained their hit single "The Distance" which was
a half-sung, half-chanted story about a lovelorn racecar driver. Comfort
Eagle, their fourth and most recent release, sounds more like Nugget than
their previous CD "Prolonging the Magic" does, which is not necessarily
a good thing. Nugget had a few quality songs ("Frank Sinatra", "Perhaps
Perhaps Perhaps") but Magic truly brought out the best in Cake melodically
and lyrically. Comfort Eagle never really reaches the same highbrow mix
of tune and irony that Magic did, and the album suffers because of it.
However, there are some gems on the release: "Commissioning a Symphony
in C" tells the story of an Austrian nobleman tapped to write a masterpiece
of music, "Love You Madly", a funky love song, morphs the best between
Magic and Nugget, and the chorus of "Shadow Stabbing" is just catchy and
quirky enough to satisfy. I would urge Cake fans to definitely give this
one a try, but those who weren't big fans of Cake's previous stuff should
look elsewhere. There just aren't any new eggs from this Eagle. -- Trey
Beats (July 23, 2001) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Music, Music, Music, Part 2
Music Review by Pete Hisey
Pete Hisey
Where Have All the Protest Songs Gone?
“Just another motherfucker in a motorcade,” the Sisters of Mercy sang about
the slightly smarter Bush in “Vision Thing.” The Ramones lacerated Mr.
Vacant in “Bonzo Goes to Bitburg.” “Reagan, Thatcher dead and gone,” the
Mekons chanted, perhaps just a bit optimistically. There were perhaps hundreds
of songs that mentioned Nixon in a less-than-favorable light, and even
Clinton came under attack in the Waco Brothers ditty, “See Willy Fly By.”
To date, though, our most incompetent, evil and just plain loathsome head
of state has received a free pass. He stole an election, installed drooling
senile fascists in top positions, advocates destroying our and the worldwide
environment, embarrasses every thinking human with his every utterance,
and is so much in the pocket of big business he is covered with lint and
old Lifesavers. I come from a past that includes the MC5, the Clash, Bruce
Cockburn, the Subhumans, and a whole host of others who said “Fuck You”
to the established order. Where is the outrage today? My daughter is 11
years old. She is furious about Bush and his environmental bushit, and
what is she offered? Britney Spears and the Backstreet Boys. When I was
roughly her age, I could hear “Talking John Birch Society Blues.” A few
years later, it was “Kick Out the Jams” and “Fortunate Son.” Hell, I would
settle for some wimpy construct like “Eve of Destruction.” Turn on the
radio. Silence. Sure, sometimes I hear one blurb from the Rage Against
the Machine ilk of all-purpose protest, and some rap groups are keeping
the faith, but seriously, in the mainstream, there is nothing. Happy little
pop ditties, phony corporate rock, self-pitying whiners and little else.
I am sure I am missing something, somewhere. Anyway, I hope so. But given
the rich, fertile ground that our resident offers, along with his crew
of leftover Reagan fascists, WHERE THE HELL have all the protest songs
gone. Is an entire generation just too involved in choosing between latte
and chai to be bothered reading a newspaper or turning on the news? Are
the Star Trek sites so fascinating that a visit to Bartcop or other political
sites just too much to bear? Bartcop readers, can you point out something,
anything, that will prove me wrong? Or are we doomed to gather at Joe Strummer,
Bruce Cockburn and Mekons shows, like old folkies clustering around Dave
Von Ronk and Bob Dylan concerts, remembering the good old days, when musicians
could and did change the world? I hope our music board will become the
kind of interactive, reader-driven experience the main Bartcop.com site
has been for years. And unlike Bart, I work at home and have the time to
read and answer email. Let’s get it on! -- Pete H. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``
Music, Music, Music, Part 3
Another Music Review by Pete Hisey
Pete Hisey
Why Counting Crows Must Be Driven into the Sea
There is only one thing you need to know. I promise to get to that one
thing in a moment.Counting Crows, like Hootie and the Blowfish before them,
came out of nowhere with a pleasant little ditty, in this case Mrs. Jones,
a blatant Dylan knockoff with some pleasing hooks and a couple of interesting
turns of phrase. Not great, but not horrid, FM fodder. The band then set
a land-speed record for turning into a self-pitying bunch of hacks with
all the lyrical talent of a very sensitive, too sensitive, 16-year-old.
Their second album contained a song about how tough it is being a rock
star and nobody understands and all your friends look at you differently
and you can’t live a normal life and boo-hoo-hoo, poor me crap. Even Bon
Jovi waited four or five albums before sinking to this level, when prettyboy
moaned that he was “a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride” and how much he
missed the only girl who really understood him has to stay behind while
he goes out on tour, getting soul-stultifying blowjobs from groupies who
don’t really care about him. Blech. Double blech. I would not be writing
this, however, were it not for a single line from these pathetic losers
and wannabes, who hopefully will join Hootie and Haircut 100 in the “three
CDs for $2” case down at the local used CD store. Six simple words tell
you all you need to know about these hacks. And those six words are “the
smell of hospitals in winter.” This line belongs in those hysterical lists
of really bad high-school essay phrases that make the rounds. The average
poetry slam audience would throw bottle. It is just so stupid on so many
levels, I stare at the sky and ask “why hast thee betrayed me?” Not since
“Horse With No Name” has there been such a glaring example of fatuous,
pseudo-deep, and flat-out ridiculous songwriting foisted on a gullible
public. Remember, “Horse” sold a million copies. OK, Chris or whatever
your name is, what exactly does a hospital smell like? And how does if
vary from season to season, given that they are generally environmentally
sealed? Can you savor the aroma from month to month, or week to week like
a wine gourmand? Does it taste of a light pear aftertaste? Is its finish
crisp yet saucy? Do southern hospitals have a more fruity body, with highlights
of cinnamon and pomegranate? Do you know what an insufferable git you are,
Chris? Do you meander around San Francisco, ostentatiously recording your
observations in a lambskin-covered journal? Do they go something like,
“the homeless man stares at me, proud and invincible?” Did everyone laugh
at you in high school because you wrote a column called “Poetry Corner”
for the school paper? Was your nickname “Prat?” Did your girlfriend dump
you for an acned bass player in a crummy punk band? Somehow, from the evidence
provided by the above seven words, I think so. Get lost. -- Pete H. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Movie Review #1 - "Final Fantasy"
Movie Review by James Frye
James Frye
"Final Fantasy"
I am 47 years old and I play video games, so movies based on video games
intrigue me. I also like computers, but (seeing how you're reading this)
this is something you and I share. I also admit I've seen all of the movies
based on video games - Street Fighter, Double Dragon....yes, even Tomb
Raider. Now, for the newest entry into the video games-to-movies sweepstakes,
allow me a moment to explain something. Japan produces most of the world's
video games, but we have the terms reversed. Most of the time, they base
their games on animated movies that have been released first in Japan.
We get the game first over here - then the movie. As for the movie itself.....well,
it is a stunning paean to technology. The space ships, battle scenes, etc.,
are indeed something to behold. Computer animation has come quite a ways
since Toy Story. Unfortunately, that is the best thing I can say about
this movie. For my fellow gamers, this picture is a long-form "movie" that
breaks up gameplay and most of the time bores us to death until we can
get back to being able to control the action when playing. Just like the
Playstation Final Fantasy games, this movie is just as much soap opera
as those game interludes....multiplied by five. The other major problem
with the movie is that it shows the limitations of computer animation.
CGI (computer generated images) is wonderful for toys, spaceships, dinosaurs
and other non-humans but still doesn't quite "get" people right. And there
are lots of computer-generated people in Final Fantasy. So, the movie is
good as a curiosity piece to see how far computers have progressed - and
like I said, some of the movie is stunning. However, when it comes down
to the crunch on this one, just pass me the controller and load the game.
-- James Frye ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Movie Review #2 - "A.I."
Movie Review by David Jansing
David Jansing
"A.I. - Ersatz Eleven Year Olds"
Ersatz Eleven Year Olds (a movie review)
Eleven year olds are wonderful to have around. They're generally "housebroken",
they can think independently (some of the stuff that goes through their minds can be
astounding), and they can even help you with those annoying little tasks of modern
life such as programming the VCR or getting Outlook Express to send an email message
to more than one address at a time. Most pleasantly of all, they display none of the
characteristics of adolescents, who usually behave like ten year olds on steroids.
Steven Spielberg's new movie, A.I. started off interestingly enough. In the
world of A.I., global warming had caused the polar ice (all of it) to melt, turning
coastal cities the world over to Atlantises, including New York City. Later in the
film, you get a picture of what Manhattan would look like if it were under about 70
or 80 feet of water.
What can I say about A.I.? It has made such an impression on me that I have had
this movie on my mind for days. It provokes so many thoughts, especially for the
computer scientist who harbors a serious interest in the real thing (A.I. that is).
If this film doesn't touch you, you are untouchable, or a Vulcan. Since I am also a
lifelong Trekker, I can't help making the inevitable comparisons between David
(the A.I. child-android) and Data (and possibly The Doctor).
The world of A.I. is a world in which one needs a license to reproduce, since
it has become painfully evident that the planet will only support so many people and
without some kind of family planning on a global scale, the still-ongoing environmental
disaster would only get worse. This presents another problem, namely labor shortages.
One way to deal with labor shortages is to recruit gastarbeitern (German for "guest
workers") from overseas to make up the shortfall. Of course, you then run into the
problem of overshooting your population density target. Another solution, which the
residents of this brave new world found more reasonable, is technology.
This world relies on androids to fill gaps in their labor force. They are endowed
with sufficient artificial intelligence to perform their duties - and probably little
else. Thus, you have "lover mechas" to assume the world's oldest profession, and do it
better than any real-life whore in history. Think about it - no more STD's. There are
also "mechas" that perform tasks such as gardening, heavy construction, and even
playing with your kids - a "super toy", as they call the character known as "Teddy".
One thing these "mechas" did not possess was the ability to experience emotion,
like Data from Star Trek - The Next Generation. They could be taught to fake it, and
laugh at your jokes even if they weren't funny, but there was something missing.
This is what Professor Handy wished to address. He wanted a more completely human
android that could be a companion rather than a mere slave. Unfortunately, as
suspected by Professor Handy from the onset, this aspect of his resulting creation,
David, was lost on the people given the responsibility of caring for him. Children
were precious, after all, and machines were merely machines.
David was an android in the form of a ten year old boy who was programmed to
behave as such. After a reasonable break-in period, the "mother" would speak a
code to the android, after which the two were forever bonded. The android would love
you unconditionally, do what you ask, behave, and presumably misbehave, just like the
real thing. The problem was, Professor Handy did too good a job.
Is having an intelligent machine in your house who will always be ten years old
desirable?
I personally have several problems with the idea of imitation children. A while ago,
I was in the local software store where I ran across a program called Babyz, which is the
latest incarnation of the popular AI program Dogz. My reaction: revulsion. Children are
not pets, nor are pets substitute children.
Now then, you have your imitation eleven year old. Does he stay that way forever,
perpetually dependent on Mommy for emotional support, or does he eventually acquire adult
wisdom, and become a sage in a child's body?
I would find a ten year old who never manages to get beyond a certain point in mental
development rather frustrating. Think about this for a minute; one of the most enjoyable
and rewarding things about having children is watching them grow up, bring their dates
to meet you, learn to drive an automobile, and walk across the stage at graduation.
How can one even begin to construct a ten year old from scratch?
If you have ever had children, you realize that the person a eleven year old is
becoming is the culmination of all of that child's previous experiences, parental guidance
and example, the ordeal of sibling rivalry, playground confrontations, even skinned knees.
You cannot bottle that in a computer database. Even Voyager's holographic Doctor took
several years to properly develop a personality, learn the rules of society, and really
become a "person." David, of course, never gets the chance to develop his potential.
Computer scientists who work with AI's in real life teach software to behave in
certain ways, to recognize handwriting for example, by employing what they call neural
networks. In other words, the user gives the program more and more samples to process in
the hope that the computer will eventually get better at its task. That is how a program
such as Dragon Naturally Speaking works.
The programming of an android to convincingly mimic the complex behavior of a human
ten year old child would be a monumental task, taking probably several years. Professor
Handy took twenty months, and managed to create a five year old in a ten year old's body.
A real ten year old, when faced with another boy wanting to jab him with a cake knife,
would slap it away and yell, "cut it out, butthead!" David, on the other hand, runs behind
his "brother", grabs hold of him for dear life, and backs away. This is behavior more
associated with preschool children than typical ten year olds. Maybe after several years,
you would have acclimatized your child-android to the point that you could expose him to
other children of his physical age.
Is it somehow cruel to produce such a creature as a child android, only to have the
parent grow old and die? What would then become of the android child?
David asked his "mother" how long she would be around. She replied, "about 50 years."
He then asked Teddy whether 50 years was a long time. Teddy said, "I don't think so." What
was never addressed was, what happens after the original owner dies. Presumably the android,
since it couldn't be reprogrammed, would be sent back to the manufacturer to be recycled.
I don't know about you, but I think that's pretty short-sighted on the part of the
manufacturer. Human children can usually shift attachments to some extent in the event of
such tragedy. It is an important survival instinct.
Would there be restrictions on who could purchase these androids? Should there be
requirements in place that the recipients be fit parents, or would they be available even to
the most abusive, exploitive, or worse, in our society?
The permutations of this last question I will leave to your imagination.
You see, the dark side of this film is that "mechas" are exploited in every way
imaginable. Although they were endowed with self-awareness and varying abilities to think for
themselves, they had no legal status and were not immune from the cruelty of Man. There was
even a reactionary "anti-mecha" movement that rounds up obsolete and abandoned "mechas" and
destroys them in a carnival atmosphere. Unlike Data, "mechas" had zero legal status, like
African-American slaves in the 19th century. Thus, a mecha that is no longer needed could be
abandoned, scrapped, modified in whatever manner, or sold with inpugnity. They could even be
tortured for sport. In this manner, A.I. exposes the darkest aspects of human nature in such
a way that leaves the audience absolutely stunned. All of the human capacity for unspeakable
evil expressed in Romans is played out in this film so well that you see yourself and are
shocked at what you see.
Haley Joel Osment, who played David, is an extremely talented young actor. I was
impressed by the degree to which he immersed himself into this role. I honestly believed in
David, was horrified when his mother abandoned him in the woods, enraged when he was about
to get acid poured on him at the Flesh Fair, and saddened when he finally found what he
thought was the Blue Fairy at Coney Island Under the Sea.
There probably aren't too many adult actors who could command such emotional involvement
in an audience, let alone a child. Usually, after a movie ends, the audience members will talk
amongst themselves as they leave the theater. This audience was at such a loss for words that
other than the closing music, you could literally hear a pin drop. A.I. was easily the best
movie I have seen in a couple of years, even if the nuances of the film went over the heads
of most of the professional movie critics and the public they advise on films.
-- David Jansing
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