Ask Art Anything #1

In an effort to keep things lively around here, I signed up for Formspring, which will pass questions along to be answered both here and on my twitter account. Here goes nothing ...

What music are you listening to today?

As usual, it's a hodge-podge of stuff, but if you look on my blip.fm page, "The Metro," by Berlin, is the most recent track.

Ask me anything

FRIDAY MORNING TACVBA II!

We'd previously talked about Cafe Tacvba here, but on this most somber of mornings, a bit of whimsy couldn't hurt. Enjoy a special 5-song set.

FRIDAY MORNING LIVEMASH!

I stumbled onto The Cool Table while looking up mash-ups online, and became a fan within seconds. For awhile now, I've associated the genre with DJs and clever studio work. But these guys (and gal) do it live. Check out these first two clips:



Not bad, right? "Dreaming of Mr. Brightside," for me, was even better - it's part of a new karaoke project (yes, I have karaoke projects).

FRIDAY MORNING PE!

Just to keep the joke going a little longer - and because everyone should listen to Fear Of A Black Planet once in their lives ...

Michael.

There's no question that he wasn't right in the head. Abuse. Addiction. Warped "affection." And all of that will be revisited in the days to come, for good reason.

But so will the good times. Like this.

FRIDAY MORNING COMPETITION!

This past week, millions of people sat in rapt attention watching and supporting young hopefuls as they sang their hearts out for the chance at glory.

I'm referring, of course, to Eurovision, the annual song competition that drew in contestants from 42 countries that began in January and culminated with the finals in Moscow last Saturday. Now, sadly, the participants aren't acts already well-known in the U.S.. Can you imagine, back in the '90s, Oasis repping the U.K. against Sweden's Ace Of Base? Hell, an all-Britpop slugfest to even qualify for the competition back then would've been amazing fun.

Even if they're relative newcomers, Eurovision's participants seem to fall into a category fans of pre-packaged lowest common denominator reality-show swillAmerican Idol are well-acquainted with: goofy-ass pop. Witness the entry from Greece, Sakis Rouvas -- and watch out for his pelvis!



Now, the route to the finals was a lot more controversial than its' American counterpart. For instance:

* The entry from Georgia, "We Don't Wanna Put It In," stirred up a ruckus because - get this -- it had unfavorable political connotations. Obviously, given the song title
* When the Moscow Pride Parade was held the same day as the finals, following a pronouncement by the city's mayor that homosexuality was "satanic," 20 people were arrested, and some of the contestants took the opportunity to express solidarity with the cause.
* The second semi-final round was broadcast on a tape delay in Spain, without the option of televoting -- a violation of contest rules.
* A disagreement flared up between Armenia and Azerbaijan (the latter fielded the 3rd place finisher, "Always") after Armenia used a statue in a promo video that sits on land disputed between the two countries. How's all that for drama?



Compared to this contest, your precious Idol is a spring chicken. Eurovision has been around for 54 years. And apparently, even if these folks aren't well-known here now, they might be, in time: past participants include ABBA, Julio Iglesias and - gulp - Celine Dion. So that's where the blame lies.



The eventual winner, Norway's Alexander Rybak, looks like he's already got a leg up on post-Euro life: "Fairytale," shown below, is already charting heavily across the continent. So if he's annoying the hell out of you by this time next year, well, don't say I didn't give you fair warning.

What's Behind The Music?: Arturo v. Anvil: The Story Of Anvil!

As easy as it could be to compare Anvil! The Story Of Anvil to This Is Spinal Tap, it's really more like a more acclaimed movie, The Wrestler, than you might imagine.

Like Randy "The Ram" Robinson, band founders Steve "Lipps" Kudlow and Robb Reiner were big in the '80s, until they somehow lost their way, resulting in them playing Toronto-area bars and, in Lipps' case, making do working for a school-lunch catering company.

Quite unlike Randy, though, Lipps and Robb are living in more understandable circumstances. Their band is still playing and recording, and each of them is supported by a loving, if at times seemingly bemused, family. Not only are the Anvil boys more real than The Ram, they're more sympathetic. As we see each of them -- Lipps, especially -- ping-pong between optimism and fear, friendship and frustration, and a steady, if underwhelming, stream of gigs across Europe, it's not hard to feel for them as they keep reaching for a level of success that, going by the sentiments of the array of stars interviewed for the film, they should already have reached.

The problem with the movie -- and it's not necessarily the band's fault -- is that we never learn why they never made it big. There's allusions to mismanagement throughout the movie, and the band meets a guy on tour who seemingly volunteers to help remedy that, but we never find out what comes of that encounter. Furthermore, it's surprising to find that Anvil isn't able to capitalize on the '80s nostalgia wave and book itself into smaller halls closer to home. Put it this way: if Enuff Z'nuff can still tour, there's seemingly no reason why Anvil -- who, judging by the tracks we hear in the movie, is actually good -- shouldn't be, either. At least, none that's shared in the film.

In the end, though, Anvil does its' duty as a feel-good story, culminating in the group's return to Japan, which was the nadir of their initial run toward the big leagues. Whatever the hell had happened to deny them further triumphs, the joy in Lipps' face as he sees the crowd is genuine. And if the positive press this movie and their accompanying tour is getting Anvil some of that long overdue recognition, I won't fault them for that.

VALENTINES' WEEK JUKEBOX

It might surprise some of you to learn that I do still believe in love, and in love songs. It's quite true that I'm not really up to to really investing (in any sense of the word) in such things -- at least for now. But the idea itself doesn't repulse me.

Now, when I say "love songs," I don't mean the kind of tunes Da Vinci's Notebook so smartly mocks in "Title Of The Song":



My favorite love songs have a more ... I don't want to say "magical" quality, but something a little out there, an odd combination of delicacy and declaration. So, I thought I'd devote the rest of the week to sharing them with you. Perhaps you might find a slow song you could use to your advantage this week.

To kick things off, a song I recently rediscovered and listened to quite a lot today, "Emotion In Motion," by Ric Ocasek.

FRIDAY MORNING JUKEBOX: Oingo Boingo Overload!

One of the saddest rites of passage in our culture is the yearly half-assed resurrection of Oingo Boingo by various half-assed terrestrial radio stations every October. Admit it: by the time Halloween night rolls around, you're nearly sick of "Dead Man's Party" or "Weird Science" being trotted out by whatever jocks are stuck following the cookie-cutter format sheet. And for about a generation now, I imagine, that's all Top 40 fans would know of what, to me, is one of the quintessential California bands.

I first heard of Boingo around 1983. I wasn't any sort of music fan, as such, but I'd hear the name bandied about by my more musically-inclined friends. Boingo was just one of those things that was part of the San Diego/Tijuana scene. With the benefit of hindsight, their rise stands out even more: they were a post-punk band that wasn't punky at all, once their sound was fully formed. Yet they weren't synth-pop; they weren't ska; they were sort of unassuming in their look -- suits? nice shoes? horns? -- but D. Elfman's sci-fi sensibility kept them on their own edge, not "cool kid" rock by any means. This was geek rock, two decades before the term was co-opted and bastardized by East Coast hipsters.



Though I noted Elfman's graduation from rock cult-stardom into the realm of elite film composers -- how many of us became Batman fans thanks to that theme? -- I didn't begin to follow Boingo as a band until I received a copy of the Boingo Alive double-record. It wasn't until even later, after I'd gotten hooked on the band thanks to "We Close Our Eyes," that I realized the tracks within were themselves re-recordings of their earlier standout tracks. And the new versions were better. How many artists would go back and not only compile a greatest-hits collection, but improve upon the originals?



By the time "Insanity" was released, I'd become an honest fan of the band -- still sorta-secret, because nobody I knew in college really "got" them. So my sadness was private when I heard about their farewell show, in -- where else? -- Los Angeles and realized my broke ass couldn't go. But I've gotten to catch up, on CD and via video, and I can say I finally attended a show of theirs ... sorta. Two years ago or so, I got to see Dead Man's Party, the near-creepily similar Boingo tribute band. It wasn't the same, of course, but I still got to swing-dance to "Goodbye, Goodbye."

Arturo vs. The Neighborhood Ball -- LIVE!

I admit, I spent most of Inauguration Day taking it all in quietly. Even my cynical heart warmed a little during the day. I didn't have a thing to make fun of. Thank the stars ABC gave me the Neighborhood Inaugural Ball.

8:10 -- Delayed start, but: Mary J. looked GREAT, and Will.i.am struck a good note -- addition by subtraction of Fergie, perhaps?
8:19 -- W. had Ricky Martin. O has Maroon 5. This is progress?!
8:20 -- Robin Roberts! Yay! I remember when she was a SportsCenter rookie ...
8:21 -- Nick Cannon is as much a DJ as George Bush was a Decider.
8:22 -- Mariah has a blinged-out mic stand. Take that, Mary J.!
8:25 -- Oh shit, Denzel is there?
8:30 -- Denzel arrives! PLYMOUTH ROCK, GET THE FUCK OFF!
8:31 -- Mariah can't lend the President her mic stand?
8:32 -- "How good-looking is my wife?" Epic.
8:34 -- Is that Faith Hill next to Denzel?
8:34 -- Beyonce nails the first note ...




8:35 -- Beyonce's mic also had some bedazzle to it. Is this the next arms race?
8:40 -- Homeland Security U.S.A. advert -- Good to know Republicans still have some programs to watch.
8:41 -- For a comedian, Jamie Foxx is a hell of a singer
8:42 -- Shakira's music sucks nowadays, but DAMN
8:43 -- Nice to see Sting is growing another rainforest on his chin
8:45 -- We have a president who bumps people. This might work out after all.
8:45 -- @Soulcamp: "The President may think he's got good music at his party, but I get to see Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings this week. I win." Can't argue with that.
8:49 -- These "all-star jams" rarely go well. Damn you, ABC, for not trusting Stevie Wonder to do his own damn song.
8:50 -- For a comedian, Ray Romano is a hell of a waste of space.
8:51 -- "I can't believe I'm here." I can't believe you're there either, Romano.
8:53 -- This moron is DYING out there. Somewhere, there's a hotel lounge missing a headliner ...

8:55 -- Ooo-wee-ooo, Jigga looks like Buddy Holly!
Oh Oh, where's Beyonce Tyler Moore?

8:57 -- Is it me, or does Jay sound like he's out of breath?
8:59 -- Y'know, when I wore glasses like those in fourth grade, I got my ass kicked. Now they're in fashion?
9:03 -- "Destiny calls." You go straight to voicemail, Lost.
9:03 -- Who in the blue hell is Kate Walsh?
9:05 -- I don't think I've ever seen Alicia Keys do a song badly.
9:08 -- This might be the song of the night, up there with Beyonce
9:09 -- Send in the clowns tumblers people jumping around on weird-looking shit!
9:10 -- Info from @duffcalifornia on miss Walsh: "Best known for playing Addison Sheppard on Grey's Anatomy/Private Practice on ABC. Don't judge me for knowing that." No, but I will quote you!
9:11 -- The crowd doesn't know what to make of the tumblers. Was the wrestling bear booked?
9:12 -- The tumblers are cut off. For the first time in my television-watching life, I wish we'd gotten more commercials.
9:16 -- If I sent a text from Tijuana, would Mexico get a star on the Map of Vague Good Feelings?

9:17 -- Shakira's butchering "The Right Side Of The Road," but DAMN.
9:18 -- Shakira, harmonica. Harmonica, Shakira.


9:23 -- Stevie! Seriously, who needed The 5 Maroons?
9:26 -- SW is stealing the show right from Alicia
9:30 -- Grover on Scrubs? I thought Zack Braff was the only sock puppet allowed on that show.
9:32 -- Even Biden gets a pop!
9:33 -- Even Biden gets an "AWWWWW"!
9:34 -- Even Biden gets a dance!?
9:36 -- Make that half a dance.
9:38 -- Which final 20 minutes will be worse: the Neighborhood Ball's or the average SNL's?
9:40 -- Who in the blue hell is Carrie Washington?
9:40 -- Faith Hill just answered my question. I apologize, Lorne Michaels.
9:44 -- Playing Joan Jett as bumper music is just a fucking cruel tease.
9:46 -- Hey, Gitmo might be closing soon -- are the CMT Awards looking for a new site?
9:49 -- Sting + Stevie doing "Brand New Day." Could be worse -- that could be Shakira playing harp.
9:50 -- @Soulcamp: "Looks like Sting is practicing tantric shaving"
9:52 -- If we're rehashing '90s inspirational pop for this, why not just book Jesus Jones?
9:55 -- Watching the Frost/Nixon advert, wishing for the sequel: Olbermann/Bush.
9:57 -- Looks like the end of an SNL episode, doesn't it? Too bad Obama didn't close with "Thanks to all of our guest-stars ... and Ray Romano."
9:58 -- We're closing with the tumblers? I miss Ray Romano!
10:00 -- ABC News says, "The balls are in full swing." Now that is how you end a party. YES WE CAN change the channel now.


So, the lesson of the night? The audacity of hope can conquer anything ... except bad music. If it wasn't for Beyonce, Alicia and Stevie, the Ball would've made Dick Clark's NYE show look like Soul Train.

Normally you could blame this on events like MTV and the Youth Ball (what would you rather have watched, Sting and his kite-eating beard or Kanye and Fall Out Boy?), but for cripes' sake, Common was at the Obama Home States Inaugural Ball. That's like deciding the national football championship at the Humanitarian Bowl. I can only hope that someday, we as a nation and as a people can come together to get actual hip-hop and rock artists on a "major network" gala event. But hey, there's always 2012, right?

* All photos courtesy of Reuters

Turkey Day & The Phantom Twitters

I spent the day at my friends' Suzanne and Craig's house, in north San Diego. For whatever reason, my phone never gets service in their neck of the woods. And since I was cut off from the 'Net for 24 hours(!), here's some of the Twitters I would have sent during that time:

Yesterday
* People camping outside a Best Buy at 2 p.m. That's beyond sad.
* The Jonas Brothers performing during halftime of Cowboys/Seahawks. Suddenly, I'd rather be a Best Buy camper.
20 minutes later
* Watching the Jonas Brothers. Suddenly I miss Hanson.
* The Jonas Brothers: three men, one eyebrow!
* They're lip-synching! Gods, I hate that!
* Yeah, sticking the pro-abstinence boys up there next to the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders isn't hypocritical *at all.*
* I will *give* my kids drugs if it turns them on to better music.

Last Night
* Surprise, surprise, Tropic Thunder doesn't suck!
* Had a good meal while avoiding a food coma. Best of both worlds.
* Had just enough time to introduce Suzanne to Season Three of Doctor Who. Mission accomplished!

This Morning
* Mork & Mindy marathon! Marvelous!
* My Pam Dawber crush is reborn like a phoenix. Am I the only one who thought she was hot?
* PAM DAWBER IN A CATSUIT! PAM DAWBER IN A CATSUIT!


... Back at home today, but not for long. Gotta get cleaned up, then brave the shopping masses so I can be feeling, as the song goes, zombified. See, tomorrow I'm going undead with my friends Victoria & The Vaudevillians at their show. V&TV are performing with another local band I like, Tragic Tantrum Cabaret. Here's a closer look at TTC, doing "Swan Song":

FRIDAY MORNING JUKEBOX! #11

Since I went to the Cafe Tacuba show a few nights ago, I'll just go ahead and get another fix of them this morning.

I arrived to the show 20 minutes late, just before the band kicked into "Ingrata" -- and from the opening bar, the crowd started singing. Always a good sign. The show lasted nearly three hours, and nearly half of it was technically the encore. The singer, Ribaac, looked like he was having an honest blast on stage. No "cool" posing, no sneering, not even a hint of Tortured Artist in his demeanor. There was even a Reconciliation bit, like you'd find at Sunday mass, where we were invited to shake hands with those around us. Not many people actually did it, from what I could see, but I thought the gesture was nice.

Probably the loudest non-musical cheer of the night came during one of Ribaac's monologues, when he declared, "Borders are bullshit, man." But he didn't dwell much on the political stuff. Instead, the band just seemed to keep playing through the night, even after the hall emptied.

TIC Recommends ...

Just a quick sweep around for stuff that interests me that might interest you, starting with something I've definitely been late to the party on: Repo: The Genetic Opera. I can only hope this makes it to wider release after watching MOTHERFUCKING GILES kick it Sweeney Todd-style. Watch the trailer!



In less-bloody news, TIC has always been a supporter of Internet radio, especially in these days where more and more stations are content to voice-trak their way toward the "bottom line," rather than better radio. San Diego is a particularly heinous market. This is the kind of market where "alternative radio" means playing the same bloody Alice In Chains and Sublime tunes 10 times a day, and Nirvana's Nevermind is still in regular rotation. (Full disclosure: I'm also that guy, the one with the ridiculously large music collection. So I revel in my snobbery. Now playing, Fatboy Slim -- "Love Island.")

One particularly loathsome example of Corporate Radio at work occurred last week, when longtime -- and I mean decades-long -- mainstay Steve West was let go by former alternative kingpin station 91X, now dominated by a collection of douchebag jocks. Luckily for us, Mr. West is still kicking, on a larger, more open-minded station -- his own. Radio Nigel is, basically, the aural equivalent of the dearly-departed 120 Minutes. It runs cleanly on Windows Media and iTunes and the playlist updates in realtime on the page. Give it a shot.

If your tastes range more toward the modern, check out the latest mixtapes posted by The Mixtress. You can also read about her ongoing mix projects, the cool stuff she finds on the 'Net, and about the award-winning documentary made about her in only a week.






Yup, we're still talking about Heroes. Not only is last night's recap available for viewing, but, over at Racialicious, we've got a roundtable discussion of last week's much-reviled episode, "Villains." How bad was it? Not only did the show's viewership continue to drop, but the response to it over at Producer Greg Beeman's blog reached a staggering 87 comments, most of them in the negative. Plus, the pics Beeman posts, like this one of Mr. Bennet, are pretty nifty.


... And that's all we got for now. Now, stay tuned for a special announcement.

FRIDAY MORNING JUKEBOX! #10

We're changing it up this week with something from the darker side: "Cambodia," from Apoptygma Berzerk. I got turned on to this band while living at the original Hall of Justice last year, but I've had an affinity for goth/industrial stuff for awhile. As part of the Justice League of Denton, The Mortician, Peter Pixie and myself were part of the team that brought The Cruxshadows to Kansas, of all places. Enjoy!

FRIDAY MORNING JUKEBOX! Election Edition

I was outside the storm, working at a pollsite in a relatively small, reasonably diverse district in mid-town San Diego.

(Brief aside: I can’t exhort you all strongly enough to put in to work at your local precincts, for elections at any level. Even here, in San Diego, the Registrar of Voters is hurting for multi-fluent and non-senior workers, if the training seminars are any indication. And to appeal to anyone’s mercenary side, I made $145, so it’s not exactly a day wasted, either. Ok, aside over.)

As poll workers, we purposefully didn’t track much of the election throughout the day. Neither did we encounter the long lines nor inflamed passions that seemed to spring up in other areas of the country, or even the county; while a couple of No on 8 supporters got "uncomfortably close" to our site for a couple of observers, we didn’t have any real dust-ups. During a break on the action, I voted — Yes for Obama, No on 8, if you’re keeping score at home.

I didn’t really start asking for updates until the evening, when our turnout tapered off (though it was higher than usual). I didn’t really exhale until it was over, until it was called at 11 EST — I remember Mexican politics of the ’80s, after all. After we closed our site and sent two other workers to turn in the ballots to the registrar, I walked home, alone, and couldn’t help but wonder at the quiet. There were no impromptu celebrations, no whooping it up, not even any sadness for McCain around me. Just a neighborhood league softball game at a nearby field. I knew something was in the air, around me. I just didn’t feel connected to it. I felt ... well, here's what I wrote on Racialicious that night:

I am thankful, but I am also angry. Sure, it’s an electoral ass-kicking, but the fact remains that 47 percent of America voted for fear-mongering. For race-baiting. For naked class discrimination. For electoral fraud and robo-calls and “I ain’t votin’ for no HOO-SEIN” and “Osama Bin Biden” sales. For the single least qualified candidate and the single most disastrous campaign in recent history. For Joe The Plumber and Fear Of ACORN and Fear Of That One. I am happy, but angry — it should never have even been in doubt to begin with once that petty, destructive rash of shit politics began. And the fact that it was only brought closer to the light some truths that you’d think we had moved past. I am happy but I am also angry, and a little sad, because it almost worked again. And I have faith in this President, and in the fact that we’re here. But with it comes vigilance, ’cause you can bet anything that the Karl Roves and Steve Schmidts and Michelle Bachmanns of the world are already plotting to take it all back.

Two nights and three days later, though, I'm starting to feel better, in a bittersweet way. As news broke of Obama's victory, people the world over danced in the streets, and in Santiago, Chile, R.E.M. rang in the news by reaching back into its' own youthful past for this song, "I Believe."



As the celebration began worldwide, however, the rights of gay men and women in Florida, Arizona, Arkansas and here in California took serious hits. That particular fight only looks to be getting started. (Quick plug: I invite you to join the group discussion of Prop. 8 over at Racialicious.)

But even in these setbacks, there is hope. At least in California. An analysis of state exit polls indicates that the very youth Prop. 8 purported to "protect" rejected it, a generation now emboldened, pissed off, and organizing. The kids, to put it lightly, will be alright. Which reminds me of another song called "I Believe," this one by Joe Satriani:



I believe in my dreams, indeed.

FRIDAY MORNING JUKEBOX! #8

As you read this, I'll be in the process of moving TIC World Headquarters ... a block down. But, it's a much quieter, much more affordable location. Which, hopefully, will buoy our productivity a little bit.

And I'm well aware what today is, and that everybody and their mother is probably doing something "Thriller"-related. But we choose to give you something a little funkier than the norm, so here's jazz chanteuse Marlena Shaw doing "California Soul," as remixed by Diplo last year. Party safe, rock your costumes, and we'll resume transmission sometime after the weekend.

FRIDAY MORNING JUKEBOX! #7

The weeks after vacations are the worst for my productivity. Hence, the one-week hiatus. But, the pics from the trip are up here. A mini-update before we discuss the video above:

* One week 'til the move and things are still shaping up nicely. The Mortician and I might even be able to start moving stuff in early.

* I'll be working at a local voting precinct during the 4 Nov. election and am looking forward to that, as well. The local registrar of voters is expecting a record turnout, so it'll be Katie-bar-the-door time. I just hope the damn touchscreens work.

* TIC on the airwaves? It could happen next year ... Stay tuned, True Believers.

Today's song is the extended version of "A Tu Lado," taken from a show by Duncan Dhu. I first became aware of them thanks to their classic "En Algún Lugar," but this track also holds up. Perfect for CoupleSkate. Enjoy!

THURSDAY AFTERNOON JUKEBOX!

We're posting this early on account of, I will be away from any and all keyboards for most of the weekend. This afternoon I leave for a mini-holiday in San Francisco. Included in the tentative itinerary: daytripping in Berkeley; visits to City Lights and Vesuvio's; and karaoke in Daly City for a goodbye party. This is probably going to be my last roadtrip for awhile, my last big expenditure before the move at the end of the month, and my first real solo roadtrip in years. I think it's going to be good for me -- if not my wallet.

So in honor of the City, we're going with "Lights," by Journey. Sweet little song, and one that's perpetually underrated compared to "Faithfully" or, most obnoxiously, "Don't Stop Believing." Everybody have a good weekend, and we'll be back in time for the next Heroes recap.

Oh crap, how could I not mention this yet? Happy Birthday, Slackmistress!

FRIDAY MORNING JUKEBOX! #5

Apologies; I've had a White Rabbit kind of morning -- running perpetually late. I blame this on watching Eagle Eye last night and requiring three Captain & Cokes to wash the stupid out of my brain. Seriously, I won't even dignify that piece of trash film with a link. But, it does give me a review idea ...

Anyway, let me make it up to you with something a little up-tempo: "Lights Go Out," by Client. I discovered the group through Internet radio -- where I've found roughly 75 percent of the music I've discovered over the past three years; I recommend you try any iteration of it -- and they've been growing on me steadily.

This weekend's plan: secure the new apartment, possible bonfire, and prepping for something big next week ...

FRIDAY MORNING JUKEBOX! #4

Apologies for this week's mid-morning delivery; been burning the candle out most of the week. And last night, after taking in the wonder of the Office premiere, I had to prep eight mixtapes to be sent today. We'll talk more about that next week. Among other things.

Today, though, let's go with a clip from a semi-guilty pleasure of mine: The Feeling, from Britain. They're so sugar-pop I normally wouldn't bother with them, but they're certainly convincing in their romantic earnestness, a more posh Lifehouse. And "Turn It Up," performed here on The Graham Norton Show, is too damn catchy by half. So, yeah, it's on one of the mixtapes I'm sending out today. So's a bunch of other stuff that I'm pretty happy about, actually. But we'll talk about that later.