Sunday, September 30, 2007

Whoah. Radiohead continues to surprise EVERYONE.

Whoah. Radiohead continues to surprise EVERYONE.

Their new album is out in 10 days. And you decide how much you want to pay for it. I bought it for ₤2 ₤1*, but you can pay more or less. Seriously.

This is huge. When the biggest band in the world pops up with an album no one was expecting until next year, sans label, and let's the fans dictate price, that is basically challenging everything about the industry.

I can't wait to see how this all turns out.

*Considering what a nightmare it was to actually order the album, and the hours it took to get through the myriad technical issues the site is having, I docked them a GBP for my time.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Wes Anderson and the free prologue.

Wes Anderson and the free prologue.

Consider this a PSA directed to folks that might not do a lot of hopping around the web. Wes Anderson has released a short movie, Hotel Chevalier, that acts as a prologue to the forthcoming The Darjeeling Limited. And he's released it for free through iTunes.

It's excellent, get it. And I'm not just saying that because Natalie Portman gets naked in it.

I woke up in a leather jacket.

I woke up in a leather jacket.

It's Rudy's. For some reason he had me try it on and then decided I needed to have it for a while. This actually is perfect timing since I'm going to see The Donnas tonight and a leather jacket is the perfect accessory for that kind of show.

The funny thing is that I wouldn't have even fit in that same jacket three months ago. But now I can, and that's awesome.

Now I am going to get my hair cut by the even more awesome Jenny Evil. As my Australian boss used to say, "Ta."

Friday, September 28, 2007

Feelin' o.k. about the new citizenship test.

Feelin' o.k. about the new citizenship test.

The Trib has a sampling of the new citizenship test questions in the form of a quiz. I got one wrong. For some reason while I knew the Declaration of Independence was written in 1776, I thought it wasn't adopted until 1777. Other than that I'm feeling pretty good about my grasp of my home country's politics and history.

I think Chicagoist will have its own take on the new test later today. We were asked to answer a few different -- and admittedly, harder -- questions for that piece, but I still think I did pretty well.

A pain in the rip.

A pain in the rip.

O.K., how do you rip hidden tracks off a CD that appear before the first track? I'm specifically thinking orf "Me White Noise" off Blur's Think Tank, but I've also run into it on a few other albums in the past.

Any suggestions from the peanut gallery?

At the risk of sounding like a lame bumper sticker, mean people DO suck.

At the risk of sounding like a lame bumper sticker, mean people DO suck.

Have you ever had one of those situations where someone you care about is having a hard time with something and there's nothing you can do about it? Usually I'm the kind of guy that will just inject myself into a given situation and do my best to defend the people close to me. But sometimes you can't do that. Instead you have to sit on the sidelines, offering advice you know won't be taken. And you'll be clenching and unclenching your fists, hoping against hope that someday you'll walk into your friend's antagonist in a dark alley, late, late at night.

Why do some people have to be such pricks? What does it actually do for them / get them? What's the point?

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Cat vs. Penguins?

Cat vs. Penguins?

If you haven't been following Faz the Cat's adventures in the Antarctic, now is a good time to start.

I have no idea if Faz is really there, but I kind of hope he is.

Yes, I'm going to talk about my band again.

Yes, I'm going to talk about my band again.

I've been doing a lot of music and arts writing at Chicagoist lately, to help kick-off Margaret's tenure as our new editor-in-chief in an impressive fashion, so sorry if the music-related writing here is a little lower than usual. However, I can write about the one band I can't write about on Chicagoist here!

So we've been demoing America's #1 Sweetheart songs, but this morning was the first time I've heard our new version of one of their past classics. I'd actually had to stop listening to the original version, since I had changed some of the drums pretty significantly -- because I learned the song before hearing the original demo -- so it's pretty cool to have a rough version of the tune to listen to. It's still a little weird since the new incarnation of A#1S is grounded in the same pop sensibility that permeated the old line-up, but the songs have a different feel: at times they've gotten a little more aggressive, and at other times they don't sound like anything you would've expected Kip to come up with. For instance, I'm really digging this new tune, "Drunken Sweethearts," but it sounds kind of like a Pavement tune, which is really odd ... but super cool.

Our first show is November 3, and I think we'll be in really good shape for it. I would like to play out once or twice before then, unannounced, just jumping on a bill for a few songs here and there, to get the live jitters out. I'm actually more nervous about having to play in a costume in front of people* than I am about playing drums, but it'd still be nice to get the initial public exposure out of the way under an assumed name.

Overall though, I am really pleased with how we're sounding, we just keep getting tighter and tighter, and louder and louder.

*This is actually something that's causing me a bit of distress. I can be goofy, but i can also be incredibly self-conscious about stupid things. I thought I was okay with costume thing, but as the show gets closer I get more and more nervous about it. I actually woke up from a nightmare about it last night and had trouble getting back to sleep.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Waiting for the gas to push the bubbles upwards.

Waiting for the gas to push the bubbles upwards.

I've literally been sitting and staring at this blank screen for 10 minutes. The thing is, I've been so non-stop busy for the last week or so, I feel like I've finally run out of fuel. I feel like any original ideas I have lie at the bottom of the well, and I need to replenish the water level before they rise high enough for me to reach.

What is today? Wednesday? Lots of stuff going on this weekend, but nothin' tonight. I guess that's good. It'll give me a chance to relax with Photogal and the menagerie, and reload the mental aquifer.

So just how many metaphors did I mix up there?

Also, if ever you need a pick-me-up to help you get through the day, this usually works.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Because I can't be bothered to focus this A.M.

Because I can't be bothered to focus this A.M.

  • I really wanted to like the new 1900s album, and that's why I asked to review it, but I was sadly let down by the hype and promise conveyed through other music writers' words. You, however, will have to wait until next month's ish of UR Chicago to see what I'm talking about.
  • I had a lovely time celebrating Eric and Danielle's wedding last night, even if I was two inches from running screaming from the bride as she kept asking me when Photogal and I were getting hitched.
  • What makes anyone think Photogal actually wants to marry me?!
  • The Burlington is, hands down, the bar of 2007. The Continental carried that mantle last year, but now it's time for the new kid on the block to take over.
  • I was sorry I missed The Chemical Brothers last night, until I ran into Ed and co., all of whom helpfully informed me that the volume was ear-splittingly -- and for once, not in a good way -- loud. I deal with the possible damage my own drumming does to my ears, I don't need the added worry.
  • The (ex?-)owner of Cheetah Gym discovered my Chicagoist articles and responded with thousands of words defending himself. Unfortch, within that sea of text, he also released personal info about employees, as well as unproven accusations, so I had to delete them. After he posted the same thing 5 times I finally had to ban his IP address. I wish someone currently working at Cheetah would just email / call me and fill me in on what really happened. I feel uncomfortable asking that sort of thing right before I hit the elliptical y'know.
  • Lucy the Dog is a lovebug.
And, just in case you're one of the three people that hasn't seen this; "Thriller" ... Manila-stylee.

Monday, September 24, 2007

Stop it, you're making me look bad!

Stop it, you're making me look bad!

While I am truly happy to see so many of my friends getting engaged / married in recent weeks, you've all got to cut it out because it's really starting to make me look bad!

Big news at Chicagoist!

Big news at Chicagoist!

I'm running a little late today, and really have to get out the door NOW, but you should be keeping an eye on Chicagoist today. I expand on why May Or May Not is a band to catch today, before the blow up, but that's not the big news. No, the BIG news is very, very exciting. You'll see.

Also, I'm supposed to see The Chemical Brothers tonight, but between a wedding, two band practices, three hour editors' meetings, and the jillion other things I did this weekend, I'm feeling a little worn out. Mebbe I'll be there, mebbe I won't !

Speaking of practice, the band is sounding good, and things are tightening up and getting louder.

Mebbe we should have taken that secret show next Friday ... I think we could've handled it!

UPDATE: Keep just wrote this, and I think it quite nicely sums up the parade of sticks I went through on Saturday:
Most surreal moment of the weekend.
Little flecks of saw dust, hickory floating everywhere, with each hit, beat.
I thought water was dripping from the ceiling.
It was kopeny. Beating up the drums. Poor drums.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Dig The Hood Internet? Dig May Or May Not!

Dig The Hood Internet? Dig May Or May Not!

STV SLV and ABX's band that plays actual instruments is releasing their second album in a week, and they've decided to post the whole thing online for a short period of time so everyone can check it out. I got it a few weeks ago and would say it's well worth buying, so you'd be a fool not to grab it for free RIGHT NOW.

UPDATE: Read the expanded review.

Things to do today.

Things to do today.
  • Clean the house
  • Work out
  • Brunch with Dan, Aaron, and Photogal
  • Practice with band
  • DJ my friends' wedding
  • Try not to play any bad songs
  • Drink copious amounts of Maker's
  • Stumble blindly around Chicago at 3am with both old college friends and other folk
  • Find Photogal, go home, pass out on couch because I am "stinky"

Friday, September 21, 2007

America's #1 Best Band.

America's #1 Best Band.

i don't know why I would have thought I could maintain a critical distance from a band I am in, but I can at least preface the following with the honest statement that I've been a fan for Kip's / Balls' / PeePee's / Brian's / Freud's work for many, man years. I long maintained they were an undiscovered Chicago gem, and now I get to play with them, and as I listen to old songs, new demos, and my own drumming on brand new tracks, I can't do anything but break out in a big ol' wide grin.

ACK!tober.

ACK!tober.

I'm no sports fan, but yesterday my little brother sent me the below excerpts from an online chat about baseball with Keith Law, one of ESPN's baseball columnists. My little brother knows me all too well.

Keith Law: So here's my question: Why would MLB create a postseason ad campaign called "actober" starring some comic I've never heard of when they could have made one called "ACK!tober" starring Bill the Cat? I'm sure he's available.
and later in the same chat . . .

Bob (Seattle): Didn't Bill the Cat get busted for using steroids previously? I know he was at least using the nose candy that Dave Parker and Keith Hernandez were in the 80s. Tuba Solo!!!

SportsNationKeith Law: I always enjoyed the fact that he would disappear from the strip for months, with the explanation that he was off on a bender or lying on the bathroom floor in a drug-induced coma or something.
and then this . . .
Michael (ATL): Looking at his early v. late pictures, Opus had to be on steroids, right?

SportsNationKeith Law: His nose was.

Hmmm ... you decide.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

All OFFICE, all the time.

All OFFICE, all the time.

Man is OFFICE getting the love lately. Anne over at Transmission has a really nice piece on them today including a good interview with Scott. My only quibble? The band's been around since before 2005, since Scott was playing "Tankboy" shows under the OFFICE moniker years before that.

About those Mystery Jets.

About those Mystery Jets.

The other night Mystery Jets were terrific. Really, really great. Well worth the wait. The room started off pretty empty, with maybe 25 folks, but about three songs into the set the room started to fill in, and by the end there was a pretty decent crowd there for a Tuesday night. The band played a bunch of new songs, and I really like the direction they're going in, as well as a slew of old favorites. I also dug the fact that they've stripped down to a four-piece, although I did notice their old bass player -- the singer's dad -- was in attendance. (Maybe that wasn't him. They called out an older gentleman in the crowd who looked like Henry, but I didn't hear his name, so it seems I was mistaken. CLARIFICATION: It was actually James Ford of Simian Mobile Disco stopping by before his own set at Empty Bottle.) Very cute.

But I thought it was insanely cute that there was a trio of girls smushed up against the font of the stage -- even when the room was just about empty -- acting the role of superfans the whole way through. When they started shouting, "Zoo time! Zoo time! Zoo time! Zoo time! Zoo time!" as the band revved up the song by that title, a little shiver of happiness ran down my back.

If they're coming through your town, I can't t recommend them enough. This could be your chance to say, "I saw them back when."

Hey, We're Back!

Hey, We're Back!

If you enjoyed Dr. Katz Professional Therapist, and who didn't, it's time you check out Jonathan Katz's weekly podcast, Hey, We're back!, since it's full of the same deadpan humor that made his original series so enjoyable. Interviews with Aretha Franklin, constant sparring with directory assistance, and a self-contained tollbooth all pop up within these short (5-7 minute) episodes.

Kat's humor often causes the listener to explode after an unexpected joke, and he's very similar to Woody Allen (in Allen's written work) when it comes to taking his comedy on unexpected twists and fabulous turns. Kind of like Steve Martin's writing too, come to think of it.

Actually, maybe that why I enjoy Katz so much. Much of his humor has a writerly quality to it, but it's kept from stultifying by Katz's easy-going delivery and the naturalistic feeling that projects.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Wow, chills.

Wow, chills.

I was looking through the new UR Chicago, reading my own reviews to see if anything got edited out (nothing was) when I looked to the top of the page and saw a Siouxsie Sioux review, written by Jamie.

Man do I miss that guy.

I'm a tastemaker!

I'm a tastemaker!

This guy might be joking, but you know he's right.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Dangrz! Dangrz! LOL Cats!

Dangrz! Dangrz! LOL Cats!

.... aaaaaand the Tribune's Steve Johnson proves once again he has no business being an internet critic.

I am neither Gerard nor Bear, but sometimes I wish I was.

I am neither Gerard nor Bear, but sometimes I wish I was.

This dude's sense of entitlement,and his whining about getting bumped from a guest-list for Calvin Harris last minute, is a really good example of why most of the "press" don't take many bloggers seriously. Plus he admits to doing this, once he got on the guest-list:
Since then, I've blogged and spun Disco relentlessly. (A couple tracks even made it into the lauded series of gkla mixes.) I even mixed album tracks and remixes for 20 minutes last night on my radio show. I was doing my best to be a Good Blogger; thankful for the chance to see a great artist at no cost, I was doing what I could to repay Calvin and Sneak Attack in blog posts and DJ spins.
Y'know, over the last 15 years or so, I've been bumped from plenty of lists, writing for both print and online outlets. Yes, it sucks. But at no time did I ever feel cheated because I had done my best to "repay" a label or PR outlet for my spot on that list?!

Anyway, Idolator shares some worthwhile thoughts on the topic, and Gerard Vs. Bear shares some hi-fucking-larious thoughts on the topic.

And since this is all a little "inside the industry" for some folks to want to deal with this early in the A.M., here is a cute picture to make up for it.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Ten down, forty-two to go.

Ten down, forty-two to go.

The Diviners
by Rick Moody


Usually when writing these things, I've remained careful and kept from giving anything away, but in this case that's impossible, so if you haven't read The Diviners yet, and plan to, don’t read any further.

I've always enjoyed Rick Moody's work. In the PoMo tradition, he’s always done well in wrapping his stories up. That is to say, most of his other brethren, and I think you know who they are, delight in telling and developing their stories, but when the time for resolution arrives, they freeze up, throw curveballs, and leave the reader wondering just what happens net. And not in a pleasant "unresolved" manner, but in the manner of misdirection and artifice in an attempt to avoid actually finishing their story. And I'm okay with that, usually, but in this case Moody seem to have veered dangerously into "angry young man" (though he is no longer so young) territory.

The Diviners deals with Hollywood, movies, TV, and pop culture; and these are all things Moody has become intimately familiar with. And I respect the patina of disdain, and the thinly veiled anger any writer whose work has been adapted by others is sure to be manifest, and that is evident in this most recent work. I can even forgive the foreshadowing, borne from the knowledge of actual history, Moody mines for somewhat comedic effect.

What I can't forgive is that the entire premise of his story is laced with, and decided by, the election of 2000. He taps into his public's own latent anger – and believe me when I say the FOX News / Coulter crowd is NOT reading his books – and utilizes that as an excuse of an ending. He basically takes a wide ranging, superbly engaging story, and undercuts all the characters we grow close to, by blaming absolute failure on the Bush presidency.

I know, what?

From a personal standpoint, here's where I ended up … on the edge of my seat (I admit, I fell for it), waiting to see how a dozen different threads were going to work themselves out, only to have a Supreme Court justice undercut everything in a half-baked epilogue that comes across more as Moody avoiding any further story development in a resolution borne of his own personal anger and dissatisfaction.

To be fair, in the context of Moody’s construct, the ending does technically work, and allows the reader to extrapolate what fallout will befall the story’s protagonists, as far as the "big picture" is concerned. But ultimately it seems like a cheap out, blaming just about every social and political ill on the decision made in 2000 about who would the next PotUSA.

Personally, I think that almost every political and social ill can be blamed on that decision by seven robed insiders, based on a dispute on a far southern state poking out into an ocean and a gulf, holding an unnatural sway on a moment that would eventually plunge the world into chaos and uncertainty. But Moody overreaches himself, and allows his own internal fury to take over and hijack what was a witty, touching, and supremely human (albeit one with usual tics and tacs specific to modern storytelling) tale.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Pure. Primal (?). Podcast.

Pure. Primal (?). Podcast.

I’m now addicted to podcasts. Got a slew of them I'm subscribed to, many from NPR or auxiliary sources, and they play constantly in my ears. Sometime they even get in the way to my listening to the latest album I’m supposed to review. At work, at the gym, in the car, wherever. I've learned, though, the best place to listen to them is Michigan, at our farmhouse, late at night. Then, Jodi Foster whispers secrets in my ear, "Summary Judgment" sounds even wittier, and Radio Lab achieves a clarity that Chicago – with its sounds and competing stimuli – refuses to divulge.

A front porch bordered by a foreboding blanket of black, along with complete silence (save an owl’s hoot from time to time, but other than that so silent the stars seem too loud) affords the sort of focus college freshmen, cramming for that first big biology exam, endlessly dream of.

It's bliss.

Friday, September 14, 2007

Super-quick obs.

Super-quick obs.

Had anyone come up and licked me while I was just at the gym, there's a good chance they would've gotten drunk instantaneously.

Whilst I enjoyed the Hideout Block Party, I'm STILL kinda pissed I missed the Lips.

Whilst I enjoyed the Hideout Block Party, I'm STILL kinda pissed I missed the Lips.

Seriously, while I hate the Aragon, between Kot and Nitz, I am super sorry I missed The Flaming Lips last Friday. They played "Mountain Song" fer chrissakes!

Here's a rarity for everyone else feeling as bummed out as I by the situation. And now I'm off to Michigan ... Bill or Danny, call me if you're there!

MP3: Flaming Lips "Enthusiasm For Life Defeats Existential Fear..."

P.S. Go see The Assembly and OFFICE* at Metro tonight. It's free and it will be AWESOME!

Trust me, I know what I'm doing.

*Personal to Klein: Did you REALLY play the OKGo card?! Fucker. Way to pull a Pitchfork "Great album, but they'll fail" tactic. Get some balls.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Pickle's lookalike an LOL Cat!

Pickle's lookalike an LOL Cat!

This LOL Cat isn't actually Pickle, but it sure looks like her. Or maybe it is ... since we found her as a stray, for all we know she was a model before we got her!

Wondertwin powers ... activate!

Wondertwin powers ... activate!

In addition to being stoked about Photogal's art opening tonight, I am also very excited to team up with my old Sweet Alice Tuesdays / Rock and/or Roll Tuesdays DJ Partner DJ Rudy Tuesday at Liar's Club tonight!

Like I said before, in September the Bomb Squad is trying to make things a little more special, so tonight it's just the two of us, so expect to hear stretched out sets filled with jammies to shake your fanny.*

*And for my oversea readership, please replace "fanny" with "booty." Thank you.

Photogal takes a photo.

Photogal takes a photo.

Folks occasionally ask me why Photogal's nickname is Photogal. Obviously it's because she's a gal that's handy with a camera! She also has a photography degree, and when we first started dating we would team up at rock shows: I would write about the bands and she would shoot them for my articles. She still did fine art on the side, and would arrange gallery shows to display her work, alongside friends she admired, and it was a nice little scene.

Well, she's been sort of dormant photo-wise over the past few years, but she got invited to submit a piece at a group show tonight, so she decided to experiment with my digital camera, and composed a piece around the theme of "neighborhood."

I like what she came up with, and not just because it has a few of my favorite people in it, like me! And Betty the Beagle. And Lucy the Dog. And Photogal. But what I realized I really liked was watching her engaging herself in her art again. The thought process that went into the work was fun to experience and interact with. And I liked helping her out with it when she needed me too. And I loved seeing the effort she put into making sure it was presented correctly.

Sometimes we get so caught up in the day-to-day, we forget things we once believed to be inextricably integral to our existence. Seeing Photogal rediscover one of those things was honestly a joy.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Economic realities and the myth of the quick fix.

Economic realities and the myth of the quick fix.

I'm sick of hearing everyone scream about the subprime lending problem, and how interest rates should be dropped to bail everyone out, and how all these people stand to lose their homes and yadda yadda yadda. This week's Economist finally nicely mirrors my take on the situation, only in a soberly smarter fashion than I have been able to.

But it is also easy to descend into caricature, portraying borrowers as victims of villainous banks, brokers, rating agencies and hedge funds. By one estimate, half of all subprime borrowers lied about their income. Many chose to ignore the risk that house prices might fall. Heaping all the blame on Wall Street and its clients ignores the role of broader forces. Ultra-low interest rates and Asia's savings glut provided much of the liquidity that inflated the bubble.
People took risks in hopes of increasing their savings and maybe making a profit. But a risk is not a savings account. It's a risk because you stand to lose just as much as you stand to gain.

Allow the market to readjust itself, and stop looking for a bogeyman to blame the situation on, and a quick band-aid to fix everything, .

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Honestly, fact checking isn't usually this exciting.

Honestly, fact checking isn't usually this exciting.

Really, only that long ago?

Really, only that long ago?

It's a little chillier outside, but other than that the day is eerily similar to that other Tuesday a few years ago. I re-watched Three Kings last night and was stunned by its prescience.

And then I thought of the sense of community this country briefly shared, and was sickened by the thought that only absolute horror will bring out the best in people. Fear, on the other hand, keeps people united, but with no direction. And the parties in power know that and continue to foster a continued state of fear in order to force a false communal response. Instead of inspiring people to help each other, the events of the past few years have only served to bond people together, clutching tightly at each other's shirtsleeves, gnashing their teeth, fearful of moving forward or backwards, fearful of any administrative change, fearful of DOING anything.

And I remember feverishly riding my bike to Photogal's six years ago, ducking and weaving, and scanning the sky above me, unsure of what could happen, and feeling a different fear. The fear of instant annihilation, but also the fear that if something didn't change, if WE didn't change, things were going to get a lot worse.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Blur edges ever closer to that whole full-blown "reunion" thing.

Blur edges ever closer to that whole full-blown "reunion" thing.

Now Alex James is adding fuel to the hopes of lots of dorks, just like me, all over the world.

No sleep.

No sleep.

Betty the Beagle is having some serious stomach issues (let's just say she has to go outside about every 15-30 minutes, and I've done two large clean-up jobs around the house ... ick) so I'm working on almost zero sleep.

It should be an exceptionally lovely Monday at the office. Days like this I wish I could work from home, but I've got too much going on to do that.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

The kids are alright, but the adults are way behind.

The kids are alright, but the adults are way behind.

What's worse than a story that a month too late? A story that's a month too late but tries to earn hipster points by name checking non-celebrity Jackson Pollis.

What the fuck is a photo essay of Lollapalooza, written by a clueless art director, doing in this Sunday's Chicago Tribune Magazine?

Dear Trib, if you want to pay people to write outdated crap, feel free. However, if you don't want to continue to act and be viewed as a dinosaur, my freelance rates are quite reasonable.

Saturday, September 08, 2007

I'm an adult now.

I'm an adult now.

Photogal is out of town, I was out with the Boyz in the Band (and their lovely ladies), went dancing and ended up at The Continental, and through it all I managed to not get into a single altercation or unpleasant situation. All the sign for Whiskey-soaked Tankboy pointed to "yes," but I somehow managed to behave myself all evening.

It's a miracle!

Also, the response to Chicagoist's coverage of the Cheetah Gym roller coaster has been rather surprising / overwhelming. Who knew a gym would have that kind of reach over folks?

Friday, September 07, 2007

Cheetah Gym will reopen!

Cheetah Gym will reopen!

I just got this confirmation from one of the employees:

Cheetah will be reopening. The Bucktown and Andersonville locations will be open on Sunday September 9th, Edgewater hopes to follow in a couple of weeks. David Wilshire will no longer be operating Cheetah, employees will be paid, and members are encouraged to come back with the realization that Cheetah is a good facility with a good staff ...
This is VERY good news for me, although I'm feeling for all the folks who bolted to other gyms and are now locked into membership contracts elsewhere.

Broooooce and the thirty second pre-evaluative review.

Broooooce and the thirty second pre-evaluative review.

So, the new Bruce Springsteen plus E Street band disc, Magic, what is that all about? Here's what it's about. Bruce got tired of The Hold Steady grabbing all of his accolades so he decided it was time to rock the fuck out again. Granted, it's not genius, but it is - seriously - the best thing he's recorded in a decade or two. There's a swing in his step and a swaggering gait that hasn't been around Springsteen/s music in years. It's not gonna convert any haters, but it's a welcome return to form.

MP3: Bruce Springsteen "Radio Nowhere"

At the Office.

At the Office.

I like Office.

I've known Scott a number of years and remember booking some of the band's early shows. I always thought he showed promise, so I'm especially pleased to see them getting so much attention now. It's certainly well-deserved.

Their "debut" (even though it's acually, what, their 4th album?) drops September 25, and I highly recommend it. It sort of functions as a re-recorded "best-of" of the band's catalog, plus a few new, terrific, tracks.

Like this one.

MP3: Office "The Ritz"

Photo by Clayton Hauck

Thursday, September 06, 2007

THIS would be the jam of the summer ... if summer weren't already ending.

THIS would be the jam of the summer ... if summer weren't already ending.

I don't know why, well actually I guess I do since I'm about to write the nest phrase, but this song really reminds me of Ten56. Like "play that tune off that Killers disc that isn't out yet / fucking play *stellastar NOW bitch" Ten56.*

I will play this tonight, and even if the bar is empty, the dance floor in my head will be filled with people bouncing in unions to the chorus.

MP3: VHS Or Beta "Can't Believe A Single Word"

*Man, not to get all sentimental on you or anything, but that WAS a really good time. And the funny thing is that I don't think I really recognized it at the time. It's sort of become a touchstone for how a whole group of disparate folks came together, some forged lasting friendships / relationships, and all had a really good time. I feel like we're heading that way with Liar's Club right now, but we'll never quite get that original feeling back. Nor would we want to, since that's sort of too backward looking for my taste. But it's not a bad thing to strive for the general vibe that permeated the old school Ten56.

Hmm, it just occurred to me that this footnote is longer than the post it's addending.

A woefully misguided attempt for media attention.

A woefully misguided attempt for media attention.

This is an excellent example of emailing blind in hopes of a write up:
Hi Jim,

NFL, college sports, baseball playoffs… Bordo's Eatery and Sauce in Lincoln Park could not have picked a better time to reopen. Redesigned as an upscale sport's bar, Bordo's is also the new home for Illini fans-bussing fans to games in Champaign and packing a pregame food and drink fest.

The 18 hi-def plasma TV sports bar has $.25 wings and beer bucket specials for Monday night football along with daily drink and food specials. With live DJs on the weekends an upscale menu for dinner, Bordo's is the new sport bar in town!

Would you be interested in learning more?
Corey
That solicitation is almost a verbatim checklist of everything I would HATE in a bar. Ick.

However, Corey, if your invitation to "learn more" involves free beer buckets and wings, I'm most certainly willing to give the place a shot as long as that fee stuff is doled out to my brothers as well. I'll need someone to hold me down when I start frothing at the mouth.

Kuh-RAZY!

Kuh-RAZY!

Just thought of this, as I was re-watching After Hours last night. And what I thought of is this: the character Rosanna Arquette plays, the one who keeps experiencing major mood shifts and whose life is filled with drama and odd auxiliary characters that threaten to drag you under in situations that are, in their estimation, matters of life and death but are, in fact, just examples of situational misinterpretations and a gross sense of self-importance? You know, that character?

I've dated her. More than once.

So that's "crazy" in the not-so good way. We all kind of like that, it's true, but it can be harrowing. But there's also "crazy" in that "man, this is AWESOME!" way. And that's what tonight at Liar's Club threatens to be like. For the first time in, oh, I don't even know how long, the original Bomb Squad will all be in the booth at the same time! You'll be amazed at just how much you missed our chemistry together. Or, as JB said, "Imagine lots of misty, running through the rain sequences, and then set it to Turbonegro and Kanye. It's going to be kind of like that. Won't you come see?"


The month of September will be a very special one as far as Bomb Squad Thursdays go. We're "taking it back to our roots" and just using the original Squadders and guests. We'll also be doing only two DJs a night every week but this one, when the original mavens of mayhem get to bounce off one another (and the members of Kiss) once again!

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

The weirdest thing about Cheetah Gym closing so suddenly ...

The weirdest thing about Cheetah Gym closing so suddenly ...

I kind of feel like I got dumped by a girlfriend, but it's one of those situations where you had no idea there were any problems in the first place! It's odd how a gym can become such an integral part of your daily routine. I just checked out another one in the area, and it really wasn't doing it for me.

I'm actually kind of hoping someone swoops in, buys Cheetah, and everything can go back to normal next week. But, of course, that's how one would feel when suddenly dumped, huh?

Egad, who would have though I would become so attached to a gym?

What's the deal with Cheetah Gym?

What's the deal with Cheetah Gym?

So I walk up to the doors of the Cheetah Gym Bucktown/Wicker Park location and there's a sign on the door saying it's closed "per David Wilshire" (the owner), and gives an AOL address to contact with questions. Which I think is weird, since his email has always been a Cheetah Gym one. So I go home, email him and call the other locations to see if any of them know what's up, only no one answers any of the phones. So I check the website to see what's up, only to find it's down.

So, what the hell is going on? Anyone out there know? I was just there yesterday and everything seemed fine, and I know Wilshire is in the process of building a Logan Square location and (most importantly) I already paid my dues for this month so they had better not be suddenly closing down!

Plus, I don't want to have to go through the hassle of finding another gym I like ... grrrr ...

UPDATE 1: Via our network of faithful Chicagoist readers, it has been confirmed all of the branches are closed today. It seems something is definitely up, and it does not seem good.

UPDATE 2: Oh fuck. Guess I have to find a new gym.

I love them even if they do hate on the "older boyfriend."*

I love them even if they do hate on the "older boyfriend."*

How can you not love a podcast that gives this answer to the question, "How else are you going to learn about sex?"


It's just that sort of sass, followed by reasonably sage (and more importantly, realistic) advice, that makes Midwest Teen Sex Show the first video podcast I've ever subscribed to. I wish Sex Ed had been like this in high school. Instead we just got nervous speeches from football coaches and that one film, shown in thousands of high schools across the nation, depicting the "miracle" of birth so graphically it swept sexual thoughts from even the most sex-crazed maniac (i.e. every adolescent within a three-mile radius).

*I'm all for the older boyfriend!** Even if, in my particular situation, I'm the young 'un of the pair.
**O.K., maybe not "icky" older, like 37-year-olds dating 19-year-olds.***
***O.K., I take it all back. Why? BEST EPISODE EVER!

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Daft Punk is playing my head, MY head ... and they're not leaving.

Daft Punk is playing my head, MY head ... and they're not leaving.


Usually when I see a show that really blows me away, the initial impact is stunning, and then fades to a fond moment or two in my head. Certain things can spark the visceral re-enactment of a single moment, such as the tear that ran down my cheek at a Flaming Lips show, seemingly spurred by the mixture of sirens, lights, and vocal tone during "Lightning Strikes The Postman." Or the time I almost broke down in a friend's kitchen in college listening to "Under Pressure," a song I'd hear a million time before, but from that moment never heard the same again.

There were no tears involved when I watched Daft Punk a few weeks ago, but I did walk away from that show with an entirely new inner relationship with the band. No drugs were involved, and to be truthful, the full impact of their show was lost on me until I ventured out and submerged myself in the middle of the crowd in order to convey an honest account, sans the usual disconnect suffered between most critics and the audience they write for, of the performance of two robots atop a pyramid. And that simplicity does in fact capture the heart of the show, but it does no justice* to the full scope of the physical presence of the volume, and the stunning glory of the images interlocking and propelling that volume across a field packed with rapturous voices and bodies joined and worhipping in union with the almighty beat.


And I'm kind of exaggerating, and kind of not. At the time, that's not precisely what happened -- for instance I know for a fact not everyone walked of that field impressed -- but as far as my internal monologue is concerned, the show has expanded over the past few weeks. When I see video of the performance, something in my chest tightens and I feel nostalgia for a time far further gone than a single month, and I realize that Daft Punk did do something incredibly special with their performance. And I still can't put my finger on it. And it still doesn't make sense, especially since, for all we know, those two guys sat atop that pyramid and did nothing more than hit "play" on a CD player.

But all attempts to make empirical sense of an event that touches are doomed to fail, and why would one want to strip away all of the mysticism surrounding such an event in the fist place? Personally, I know I've grown used to watching the music, and performance, and dissecting everything involved with it in an attempt to make sense of the experience for people that weren't there, or haven't heard what I've heard, yet. Every once in a while it's a relief to encounter something that can take those filters, decimate them, and allow something unadulterated, possibly mythical, past the gates.

*Alternate definition of "justice" is "a band whom, more apparent now than ever, owes their entire career to Daft Punk." See, I just can't help myself.

Top photo by Calbee Booth for Time Out Chicago
Bottom photo of the band in Düsseldorf by AndiH

Monday, September 03, 2007

Labor day indeed.

Labor day indeed.

Wotta weekend, kept very busy indeed. As promised. Thanks to all who helped kick things off in style at Hideout Saturday night, and thanks to my extended family -- in all directions -- for making the holiday weekend from that point until now (just minutes before midnight) a weekend well spent.

Plus, tore through another book, just about. I need more four-day weekends like this.

Sunday, September 02, 2007

Damnit! I missed spoil your dog day!

Damnit!* I missed spoil your dog day!

The funny things you learn when trolling through your own archives.

Wow, I sure have changed, even in the short span of time this site has been up and running!

Anyway, it's a holiday, and I'm vacationing, and maxing, and relaxing, and may not have a chance to get back online until later tomorrow, so peruse the archives to the lower left there, and get reacquainted with Tankboy through the ages.

And don't forget to get outside and enjoy the weekend too!

*As a behind-the-scenes peek at Chicagoist inner sanctum discourse, realize we spent a day arguing over whether the correct spelling is "damnit" or "dammit." In the end, my pet "damnit" was indeed proven incorrect, but since this is my site, I'm following my own style guide rules!

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Loving the alien (c'mon, that was too easy).

Loving the alien (c'mon, that was too easy).

My little brother informed me of this news he stumbled over:
Rock legend David Bowie is set to star in the next series of British TV series Doctor Who, playing an alien. Producers of the BBC show have targeted the singer because of his "great other-worldly looks" according to reports. British newspaper The Sun claims the 60-year-old will clash with actor David Tennant's Doctor in a two-part episode of the show, which will be aired next year. A source tells the newspaper, "Bowie said he'd be interested as long as he's not subjected to hours of disfiguring make-up."
Woo hoo!

Of course nothing television related can ever touch his Dream On cameo, but ...

And now, a track I suspect the master would rather forget, even though I remember it fondly.

MP3: David Bowie "Underground"