This week in self-promotion

Uncategorized,

I was going through some old posts last night, and discovered this post wherein I predicted that Arcade Fire tickets going for $1000 would be “the straw that broke the camel’s back for scalpers.” Now, ignore for a moment that I meant “nail in the coffin” (I do love a good metaphor and/or cliche) and consider all the Police tickets that were going for face value last month on Ebay, Craigslist and the like thanks to scalpers (both the professional scalpers and the unprofessionals who took advantage of their season ticket privileges and flooded the secondary market). Can I call it or what?

Anyway, I pitched in on TOC‘s gambling issue this week. I spoke to an expert gambler named John Patrick, who gave me some valuable tips on playing mini-baccarat (2nd item), which I immediately squandered at the Harrah’s casino in Joliet (6th item). Still, if I can manage to find a $5 table the next time I’m in Vegas, I’ll give it another go. Click through those links for the full story, and be sure to check out the 2nd page of that “Beginner’s Luck” story, where you can see an illustration that is clearly meant to be me in my sharp-ass blazer.

By the way, if you ever want to have the easiest, most entertaining conversation of your life, ask me for Mr. Patrick’s number. He and I talked for about 45 minutes over the phone, and I am pretty sure I said less than 250 words the whole time, but it was the most fun I’ve ever had interviewing a source. Never was I so sad to have so little room in a piece for quotes.

Speaking of disappointments, I reviewed the TV series Voyagers! in last week’s issue (last item). Holy crap, is that show way better in my memory than in reality. With respect to plot and acting, it’s Knight Rider bad (hey, I love Knight Rider too but come on: there’s more ham in that show that your average slaughterhouse), but it does retain a ridiculous charm, even if it has production values on par with a couple of the short films I was in during college.

Finally, the archive of my appearance on Outside the Loop radio is up. I sound much more coherent here than I did on Rachel’s show last month.

Please keep in mind that I am available for your next birthday party, bar mitzvah or quinceañera.

Van Halen, The Flash and more for my 14-year-old readership

Comics, Music, ,

I’m still in a bit of a follow-up mode this week so bear with the retreads.

First, whatever. I can’t take all this back and forth. In fact, this line from the Reuters report says it all about the Van Halen reunion:

“The band’s luck ran out a decade later when Hagar and Van Halen acrimoniously parted ways, and a new album with a third singer tanked.”

Man, if REUTERS gets that, why doesn’t Eddie?

Meanwhile, back on planet Earth, Wizard World hits Chicago this weekend, which was a reminder to me to pick up this month’s comics, including All-Flash #1, a stop-gap between the end of the previous Flash series and the resumption of the Wally West-led series, which also resumes its previous numbering at #231. I mentioned last month the reasons why I felt DC bollixed up this most recent series, but after reading All-Flash, I realized something else that felt off to me several issues ago.

When Wally’s Aunt Iris arrived on the scene, she pulled a gun on Bart. While this made for a nice, tidy cliffhanger at the end of one issue, it felt wrong, even though it turned out to be a stun gun or some such nonsense. Instead of allowing Iris Allen to remain the heart of the Flash comics – as she’s been since she met Barry Allen, the Golden Age Flash – she was turned into an amoral Jack Bauer-type, willing to do Whatever It Takes. Sure, she was doing it for Bart’s own good, etc. etc. but it was yet another example of how the cores of the individual characters were missing, and this moment from the current issue made me think that maybe they were right to bring a full stop to the proceedings (click the image for a larger view):

If DC had Wally’s return as an end game all along, they’d have had more moments like this in the previous issues of the book to demonstrate that they weren’t making things up as they went along. Sometimes when you’re really lost, the best thing to do is to pick a new destination.

Nice to have you back, Mark Waid.

Selling out revisited

Music, ,

I received a press release today that contained this as its lede:

“Legendary BRONX ART FUNK group ESG (who will have the new feature song on Mini Cooper commercials nationally) will perform their LAST EVER SHOW in Chicago at the Estrojam Festival Friday, Sept 21st.”

Now, initially I felt this was the perfect indictment of the theory I’d previously railed against in a blog post not too long ago: that selling out is actually a good thing. But it turns out it’s not that simple. From Wikipedia:

“On May 9, 2007, ESG drummer Valerie Scroggins was indicted by a Brooklyn grand jury on charges of taking more than $13,000 in workers’ compensation payments. Scroggins, a bus driver for the Metropolitan Transportation Authority (New York), told them that she suffered a shoulder injury last September. In November, Scroggins went on tour with ESG, where an MTA investigator filmed her playing “drums for an hour or more and on every song the band played, doing things very similar to actions she told her employers she could not perform,” according to the Brooklyn DA’s press release. Scroggins asserts that her injury is legitimate and that she could not safely drive a bus.”

So not only does the inclusion of your song in a commercial not lead to financial solvency, it doesn’t even mean that a member of a band with both longevity and respect – and ESG do have both – won’t consider committing (alleged) fraud in order to make ends meet.

I don’t mean to suggest there’s a cause and effect relationship here, but it’s far from a panacea either.

Best story of the weekend

Music, ,

Lollapalooza was a long weekend. You can see TOC’s reports – including write-ups from me about The Hold Steady, the 1900s, Sam Roberts Band and Silversun Pickups on our blog. Plus, we’ve got loads of pictures on our Flickr site.

I know this is an overused cliche, but for me, it felt a bit like Groundhog Day: wake up, check schedule, get laptops, walk to Lolla, set up, walk to show, sweat, walk back to tents, check the blog, walk to next show, sweat, squeeze in two minutes to talk to friends you haven’t seen in a year, check blog, walk, sweat, write, walk, sweat, watch, pass out.

Every time I bitched about having to work at Lolla, people would say “Oh yeah, that’s a lot of work to be outside and watch music.” Except, that’s not what I did. Because I was working, I missed the massive audience participation of Iggy Pop’s set (easily the most talked-about event in a weekend sorely lacking in them) and Daft Punk’s reportedly mind-blowing performance (though I overheard it whilst in the press tent uploading photos). I missed more than I saw due to all the running back and forth, and blog editing.

But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have any fun. Like at the Hard Rock after-party on Friday.

As I mentioned, Lolla is usually a chance to catch up with people I’ve met at previous fests, like Abbey at PunkPhoto, Scott at Stereogum, Whitney from Pop Candy and Rachel from Rachelandthecity. Friday night, I was on the list for the Hard Rock party and knew a couple other folks were going to be there so I headed over around 11:30 after a long, sweaty day. As expected, I was met with a line, but it was short so I queued up.

Now, I have two hard-and-fast rules about bar-going: no bar is worth waiting in line for and no bar is worth paying a cover charge if there’s no live band. (I retain a $5 and under exception for the latter if there is a DJ and/or it’s past midnight.) But Friday night, I broke my first rule and waited in line for 45 minutes as barely anyone from the press line was let in. I figured this would be the one time when I’d be in the mood to tolerate the kind of manufactured cool that events like this create. Plus, I wanted free booze.

At around the 40-minte mark, Whitney showed up with her friend Mariah, and we chatted for a bit as even she and her fancy laminated pass weren’t being let in. Suddenly, bouncers started ushering folks in, and I – along with two guys I was talking with in line, one of whom was wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt – were swept in, and up the stairs. Moving with the momentum of the situation, I stuck close to Whitney as we neared the VIP Lounge and she told Mr. Clipboard that I was with her. In the span of about two minutes, I went from standing on the street to potentially rubbing elbows with celebrities (and Danny Masterson). This was going to be the one time I played this game, and I intended to win, so I scanned the crowd for potential famous people.

Sure enough, standing next to me was a short, dark-haired, woman with heavy eye makeup who was being fawned over by someone else. “Ah ha,” I thought. “Amy Winehouse, my first sighting.” Despite the “no-that’s-not-her” protestations of my fellow partygoers, I decided to open with a question that would get me an easy “yes” and go from there. “Excuse me,” I said, “are you still touring with the Dap Kings?” She looked me dead in the eye, smiled – with suddenly worrying perfect teeth – and said:

Amy Winehouse: “I’ve never toured with the Dap Kings.”
Me: “…”
Totally Not Amy Winehouse: “I’m Lady GaGa.”
Me: “Ohhh. Um, hi. I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
Lady GaGa: “Who did you think I was?”
Me: “You know, I….it doesn’t matter. Say, you’re from New York, right?”
Lady GaGa: “Yes, I’m from Man-haht-tan.” (in the thickest New Yawk accent ever)
Me: (determined to salvage this opportunity) “And you’re playing the MySpace stage tomorrow, right?”
Lady GaGa: “BMI.”
Me: “Oh-KAY! Well, it was nice meeting you, have a nice night.”

I turn back to Whitney and her friend, who are looking at me as if they’ve just witnessed someone willingly throw themselves through a plate-glass window. “So, that wasn’t her,” I said, confirming the obvious.

Later we met up again with Iron Maiden t-shirt guy who said he ran into Iron Maiden’s manager at the party, and he promised him free tickets next time they came to town. He also took the kid around the party, and helped him pick up hot girls (“I didn’t really have much to say to them except for ‘How’s it going?'”). Raise your hand if that totally sounds like what you’d expect from Iron Maiden’s manager.

Sadly, the night mostly lacked for celeb-spotting, but I did see:
* A great show by Polyphonic Spree
* Rachel and her friend standing onstage during said show
* A woman get a tattoo of a musical note behind her ear
* Another woman getting a makeover
* A flat-out trashed bathroom, rock-star style

I ended up having a really good time. I don’t think I would have had I not known people there. But it wasn’t as douchebaggy as I thought either. And, like I said, the booze was free.

Lollapalooza picks

Music

I couldn’t help myself. A friend of mine asked me who I’d pick to see and this is what I decided on, even if a couple of these overlap:

Friday
Fratellis
Ted Leo
Charlie Musselwhite
Polyphonic Spree
Silversun Pickups
Black Keys
LCD Soundsystem (though Femi Kuti will be awesome)
Daft Punk

Saturday
Helicopters (Last Band Standing at Citi)
I’m From Barcelona
Tapes and Tapes (or Sam Roberts Band if you’ve seen them before)
Rhymefest
The Roots
CSS
Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Patti Smith
Muse

Sunday
1900s
Rodrigo Y Gabriela
Lupe Fiasco
Iggy and the Stooges
Flosstradamus
My Morning Jacket (even if you don’t like them on record, they’re great live)
Cafe Tacuba
Pearl Jam

That actually makes the weekend seem manageable, but unfortunately it doesn’t include a lot of chilling out time. But if I was an indefatigable robot sent back through time to rock out, that’s how I’d do it.

And so it begins…

Music

I had big plans for doing a full-on Lollapalooza post, but to be honest, I’m a bit worn out from planning for it. Plus, I’ve got a quick post going up on the TOC Blog tomorrow, too. I’m almost Lolla’ed out before it begins.

TOC‘s coverage is pretty extensive, with a good hour-by-hour plan for the fest, along with some tips for surviving the weekend, info on the after-parties and lots of other goodies. We’ve already started covering the run-up to the fest on the blog, as well, and we’ll be blogging throughout the weekend. I’ll be pitching in so look for my thoughts there.

My biggest tip is to hit those side stages, people. They’re are plenty of solid acts (Charlie Musselwhite, Chin Up Chin Up, Silversun Pickups, CSS, 1900s, Peter Bjorn and John) and some attractive curiosities (Bang Bang Bang, Satin Peaches, Lady GaGa and locals Helicopters who are playing tomorrow at 11:15 on the Citi stage). Plus, you won’t have to deal with the huge crowds.

My only other tip: bring some Wet-Naps. You’re going to be sweaty, and it’ll feel good.

Lastly, another reminder to tune in to WLUW 88.7 for my call-in appearance on Outside The Loop Radio at 6 pm. I’ll be offering some more thoughts on Lolla’s economic impact and its effects on Chicago.

See folks? I’ve been living this fest all week already!

Oblivious Living Part 1.14: "(She's) Sexy + 17" by The Stray Cats

Music

MP3 – “(She’s) Sexy + 17” by The Stray Cats
Lyrics – “(She’s) Sexy + 17” by The Stray Cats

If you’re not able to tolerate the schtick of The Stray Cats, you won’t find anything of value in what they do. (Incidentally, the same thing could be said of the ten o’clock news.) But one has to give credit where credit is due: lead guitarist and vocalist Brian Setzer was able to dredge up two long-dead musical forms (rockabilly in the ‘80s and swing in the ‘90s) and make them briefly popular again. One could also argue that Setzer was merely mainstreaming underground trends of the time, but hey: no one else made it work so the guy has something to him.

The Stray Cats catalog isn’t devoid of teeth either; songs like “Runaway Boys,” “Built for Speed,” “18 Miles From Memphis” and “Bring It Back Again” all improve on the template of Elvis’ predecessors, and are worthy inclusions on whatever summer road trip mix you’re putting together.

Unfortunately, for readers of this entry, “(She’s) Sexy + 17” may be the limpest track the Cats ever committed to record.

The song hasn’t even started before problems result. First, points off for unnecessary parentheses. Also, what’s with the plus sign as a stand-in for the word “and?” I look at that and I think “Ah, it appears that Ember as found a Salve of Hotness and receives +17 sexy points.”

Then there’s the spoken word intro – problem number two, then exacerbated by Setzer having a conversation, ostensibly with another person who is voiced by…Setzer. So yes, the spoken word intro – already one of the weakest tropes in music – is made even more insufferable by Setzer having a conversation with…himself. Nevermind that the topic at hand – the narrator’s dislike of academia and his mistaken belief that compulsory school attendance for all those under 18 does not apply to him – has little to do with sexiness or the young lady at the root of the song’s title.

In fact, very little in the verses applies to the inherent sexiness of the titular girl (tee hee), leaving said topic for the choruses.

(By the way, let us pretend that this song was recorded in, and is being listened to, in a state/country where a youth is considered an adult at 17 so none of us feels like a creepy guy on MySpace. U.S. readers can pretend they are in New York, while international readers can pretend they are in…New Zealand. Or Northern Ireland if that’s a bit too far a jaunt for you).

Here is a list of topics covered by “She’s Sexy and + 17”
* Misunderstood youth
* Truancy
* The inexpensive cover charges and cheap alcohol found at a local bar, which happens to feature better-than-average live music on a consistent basis
* Possible ADHD symptoms experienced by the narrator when he hears a “rockin’ beat”
* Poor public school curriculum and its inability to cover topics not already addressed in better detail by one’s friends and associates

The topic of sexiness as it relates to the narrator’s girl (who we learn in the first verse is named Marie) is given scant attention. The chorus informs us of her sexiness, her age, her love of rock and roll and her propensity for mildly obscene behavior (though this is never elaborated upon, leaving the listener to imagine that the narrator is a member of the Supreme Court, and knows it when he sees it). Later, we’re informed that Marie is stylish and does not pay close attention to the opinion of others. Admirable traits, to be sure, but again the sexiness is given short shrift as a result.

As for the music, it’s a variant on 12-bar blues with a walking bass line and…oh come on, you’ve heard it by now. I’ve heard tougher-sounding songs come out of an end-of-the-year kindergarten recital.

On the radio, woah-oh on the radio

Music

I’ll be appearing on the WLUW radio show Outside The Loop RADIO with Andy Hermann and Mike Stephen next Friday at 6 pm. I’ll be discussing Lollapalooza. I imagine we’ll talk about which bands to see, which ones to skip and why you should be wary of Patti Smith being booked at Kidsapalooza. You can listen online here, or check out the archives at OTL Radio.

By the way, if you haven’t been following the story behind Loyola taking over WLUW, I’d recommend this report from Chicagoist and my report on the TOC Blog.

Death and ennui

Comics, ,

Hey wait, where you going? Come back, I promise this isn’t going to be depressing.

I think for anyone who follows media cycles, there comes a point when you sigh and say “That’s quite enough.” For me, it happens when all the stuff that’s being pushed on you is of middling to no value. It’s perhaps exacerbated by my failing to renew my subscription to The Economist.

In any case, I present this list of Things Whose Ubiquity Is Indirectly Proportional To My Level Of Excitement About Them:

* The Simpsons Movie
* Local stage productions of “High School Musical”
* Silverchair’s new album (I swear I get 1-2 press releases a week about this thing)
* The Redwalls’ new album (ditto)
* Michael’s return to Lost
* Meltdowns by Lindsay and Britney
* A really blurry video of Beyonce falling
* Flash Gordon returning to TV

OK, that last one’s a lie. The buzz on that is proportional to my level of interest (“mild”). Mainly, it’s been stoked by TOC‘s TV editor Margaret Lyons who keeps inquiring if I’m looking forward to it, followed by me correcting her that it is this Flash and not that one, that I follow.

Speaking of, the most recent Flash, Bart Allen, died in last month’s issue, just as his mentor and uncle Wally West (the prior Flash) returned from a sort of self-imposed exile in the speed force. It’s a shame that the character was killed just as Marc Guggenheim was starting to shake off the awful Bilson/DeMeo re-launch. But worse than that is the possibility that DC has thrown out the baby with the bath water in an attempt to get the series back on its feet. It’s bad enough that DC bungled the character’s life, but worse than that they’ve bollixed up his death.

Up until this 13-issue run, DC did a pretty good job of developing Bart Allen as he grew from Impulse to The Flash. But in the first few several issues of the relaunch, Bilson/DeMeo took a storied title and ran it into the ground by writing it as if they were crafting a discarded script for Smallville. Guggenheim came aboard and grounded the character, thanks to a job with the LAPD and a romantic interplay that resembled the hard choices and failings typical of your first adult relationship.

But it’s possible the damage was done. Plus, most readers still felt as if they were in a limbo over Wally West’s departure, unsure whether they should mourn his passing and embrace his successor or bide the time, and have patience with his placeholder. Per tradition, Bart Allen as The Flash died saving the world (not during a Crisis like his forebearers, but still) and received a similarly literary send-off (a quote from Sir Walter Scott that read “And come he slow, or come he fast, it is but death who comes at last”). But even with these ties to the past, his was a quick and senseless death, and quickly followed by the return of his much-loved uncle (and the much-loved Mark Waid who has a better ear for The Flash than anyone in the last 25 years). In giving so little weight to his death, DC tarnishes the spirit of the character.

The Flash is a harbinger of change in the DC Universe. And the death of a Flash has always been heavy with meaning. With so many changes yet to come for DC characters, and so little meaning attached to the loss of Bart Allen, I’m wondering if I’ll get that same “That’s quite enough” with comics, too.

An open letter to UK Prime Minister Gordon Brown

Politics,

Dear Prime Minister Brown,

First, my apologies for not sending good wishes to you after you succeeded Tony Blair as Prime Minister. It’s been a busy couple of months, but then look who I’m telling, right?

I know that in the run-up to your appointment, there was a lot of chatter about how you weren’t everyone’s first choice in the job, but you’ve acquitted yourself well, steering the UK through two terrorist attacks with little complaint from either Labour or the Conservatives.

Still, I’d like to offer a bit of constructive criticism on your performances during your first few sessions of Prime Minister Questions. While I’ve never held elective office either here or abroad, I’ve done my share of public speaking, and believe you’d probably seem a bit more ministerial if you STOPPED HITTING THE FRIGGING MICROPHONE WITH YOUR TALKING POINTS!

For the love of Queen and country, man, three times in the last two weeks you’ve smacked the thing like it was a Tory who insulted your beloved Tartan Army. Maybe you need to practice at home more so you stop reminding people that scene from Coming to America.

Just saying,
Our Man In Chicago