Tag: #Import 2025-04-25 15:23

Disney, nudity, a bad memory

‘Kenny Bridges is very hyper and appears to be very excited. Who can blame him? He’s basking in the glorious sun of Orlando, Florida. Though he does not specifically say what he’s in line for, it sounds like he’s somewhere within the magical kingdom of Disney. Rather, he reserves his comments for what the people around him are wearing.

“These people are wearing jean shorts,” says Bridges. “Jeans are so popular right now. I’m glad a not a part of this trend.”

Though not another word of this line of commentary is spoken, we have both come to the silent agreement that he is surrounded by a group of people lacking any fashion sense.

As for all other aspects, he claims that “I become one with my surroundings.”

One can only assume that means he’s a lazy tourist with nagging children.

It’s funny listening to Bridges talk. He stars as front man for the band Moneen, which calls the suburb of Brampton, Toronto, Canada home. His voice crescendos as the ends of sentences near. He does not say “Eh,” but the majority of the typical Canadian accent dominates his speech. It’s very pleasant and uplifting, far from the monotonous, droning voices we encounter every day. Whether or not he is actually ecstatic is difficult to say – but something as simple as his tone of voice puts you in a better mood.

“I become one with my surroundings,” he repeats. His sunny disposition makes the people in his surroundings want to be one with him.

As a result, he makes lots of friends on tour. The problem is, he’s got an awful memory.

“I don’t know how good of a friend I am to the people I meet,” he says. “I don’t remember most of their names. It’s gotten to the point where I say to people, ‘It’s good to meet you again.’ It’s the safest way for me evade any problems. You’ve got to find a way to not come off as an asshole.”

In college, Bridges was a drama major. According to him, he was the worst drama major of all time. This bad memory of his prevented him from remembering any lines.

With any luck, his improvisational skills were keen and he strayed away from performing Shakespeare.

“I usually just tell people I’m stupid,” he admits. “That can get you out of so many awkward situations in life. 90 percent of the time, you’ll get a pity hug. In my case, 90 percent of the time, I have people agreeing that I am a moron.”

Perhaps ADHD or a little naive, but he’s definitely not stupid.

The last time Moneen played in Orlando, Cursive played a show close by. Since the band had yet to make it on the cover of major magazines like Rolling Stone, Bridges and company assumed they were a struggling group like themselves. So, they went over to their venue to invite them onto their bill. It was at this point that they realized that over 500 people had sold out the Cursive show and that they did not need their help at all. As a gesture of thanks, Cursive put Moneen on their guest list and promised to come see them play when they were done.

Bridges is not sure whether or not they ended up coming to see them play or not, but agrees that it was kind of them to offer.

“It’s wicked to the spigot,” he comments, whatever that may mean.

If Cursive did happen to make it to their concert, they would’ve been treated to a performance that’s an outburst of energy. One critic described Moneen’s live show as an event in which “the band moshes more than the fans.”

The term “mosh” may be a little 1993, but it’s an on-target description.

“We’re not trying to be crazy or do weird stuff like Napalm Death during our live shows,” Bridges says. “It’s just the only thirty minutes of a day where we can forget about everything else and just have fun. Sure, maybe we realize afterwards that taking our pants off and swinging from the chandelier was a bad idea but, so what?”

alter

“One of the best albums in the sucks category. It’s decent and bearable but it makes you wonder if Lane Staley recorded the vocals for this album shortly before his death and they just didn’t credit him for it. There’s a heavy influence from the former fellow Seattle band Alice in Chains. Also, this album is incredibly predictable. It’s a fun record to play the Guess the Next Progression game to. The instruments may vary in nature, but the writing is stale all the same. High point: The piano work sticks out as the most thought-out instrument on the album. Some of the guitar licks sound like Chris Walla wrote them too. Low point: Pick an album, any album and this will most likely sound akin to it.”

http://www.bumfights.com

‘What isn’t wrong about Bum Fights? Morally, legally, physically – name it, this site is just plain wrong. AWFUL.

So, what is Bum Fights? The name is pretty straightforward, but we’ll take the time to explain it for some of the slower folks out there. It’s, well, bums fighting. The hitch is that they are getting paid to do this – perhaps with alcohol or various illegal substances – and, in exchange, the fights get videotaped. Technically, the only difference between this and pay-per-view professional boxing is that Don King isn’t getting a cut of it. Oh, that and there doesn’t seem to be any rules of respect among these pugilists.

Bums fighting. It happens every day. The people you turn away from at intersections or refuse to give change to congregate in public places and beat the living crap out of one another. Sounds very Chuck Palahniuk, doesn’t it? Trust me, these people look nothing like Brad Pitt or Edward Norton. They don’t even look like Jared Leto after he gets his face beaten in. We’re talking bloody, gritty, honest-to-goodness crackheads here.

Speaking of crackheads, the thing that really catapults them over that line separating morality and immorality is a special little section they have with a man who goes by Bling Bling. Mr. Bling is Bum Fight’s very own crack expert. His video excerpt on this site is called “Crack Smoking A-Z.” He happily explains the difference between good rock and bad rock and, as may be assumed, how to smoke it. The one thing he fails to mention, though, is what happened to all of his teeth.

The true star of this series belongs to Rufus the Stunt Bum. You may ask what a stunt bum does. Well, he runs head first into solid walls and newsstands. He jumps off of elevated platforms. He passes out and ends up bloody with scraped knuckles. These are his stunts – hurting himself.

To date, there have been no reported accounts of people having their ears bitten off. So, it’s got that going for it, which is nice.

As for the video series, what we’ve seen so far is absolutely appalling.

When you pride yourself on quotes stating that Howard Stern and Tom Green are even shocked by your work, you’re probably heading in the wrong direction.

s/t

‘Loose Fur is more of an alter ego than a side project. Teaming up with Jim O’Rourke and more recent Wilco addition Glenn Kotche has allowed Jeff Tweedy to explore his darker, artier side.

He has let loose and dropped all semblance of otherwise-ostensibly-tight songwriting skills in exchange for fully spread wings and broader sounds. “Loose Fur” is a lot more open than fundamentalist Tweedy fans might expect – but any collaboration with O’Rourke is bound to devour the art rock world whole.

As rumor has it, though, O’Rourke has little to do with the noise/art-guitar sounds that spew forth from end to end of this album. Loose Fur is said to be a different medium for Tweedy’s self-expression. This is yet another side that cannot see the light of day in Wilco, no matter how many barriers they break. At this pace, Wilco fans will not be able to keep up with Tweedy’s Tourette’s-infested fingers.

Oversaturating a market of steadfast fans is only going to cause the solid walls to burst or start leaking. Trying to conquer the world will only make defeat inevitable. They’re walking a thin and dangerous line here and someone is bound to fall. Will another clich? get the point across more clearly?

Managing to walk that thin line with confidence, Tweedy’s songwriting abilities are fluid but any comparisons to his successful works prior to “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” stop there. This is new, uninhibited, and adventurous.

The slow, dilettante ambience is set out forthrightly by the opening rhythmically sustained pounding of the toms and the quiet roaring background wah of the guitar. Modulating from tonality to atonality at whim, this record is unpredictable. At points, it borders on being overambitious. It rarely hits the mark, but most of the time it hits somewhere close to the target.

O’Rourke and Tweedy are precise but Kotchke throws the accuracy all off. His drumming, when simple, is great. When experimental, a noisy clamor fills the void of what would sound better as silence.

Drums aside, “Loose Fur” shows that this team of veteran musicians still has a lot left up theirs sleeves.

maryland mansions

‘How do you describe Cex? The birds-and-the-bees method simply will not cut it in this instance. Cex isn’t even something that you have to see to understand. It’s something you need to hear.

Checking out the song titles won’t get you too far, seeing as how they read, “Drive off a Mountain,” “Take Pills,” “Kill Me” and so on.

Maybe Cex can be best described as an odd but seamless combination of Trent Reznor and Eminem. It’s not quite industrial and not quite rap – but elements of both exist in varying proportions from song to song.

Rjyan Kidwell, the brains behind the band, admits that “Maryland Mansions” is one of his most downtrodden and depressing albums to date, claiming that this record deals with hard times he was having in his hometown in Maryland and how he needed to flee to the West Coast.

The trouble is present in the lyric, the tone of the vocals and even the homemade artwork, which Kidwell put together.

He hones his craft on laptop-generated sounds and spoken word, bordering on rap, song stylings. The way standard instruments are thrown into the mix, giving it a thin rock basis, puts the album in the category of Nine Inch Nail’s “The Downward Spiral.”

He says that he’s a “young dude who is just trying things out,” so expect the Emersonian maxim of consistency to apply in this case. To use a worn analogy, he’s breaking out of the box.

What happens on “Maryland Mansions” will not be true of any of his future or previous releases. It’s all trial and error, without the grand scope of creating an album that will revolutionize the world of music.

Although he laughs at the emo moniker that gets tossed around so much that it has become meaningless nowadays, this album is more of a gut reaction than nearly any other album that gets pinned down by that label.

So, perhaps the best way to describe Cex is that it is feeling over form or function. It’s hedonistic music that proves that hedonism can be much more than superficial.

lifted, or the story in the soil

‘Conor Oberst is a sad little boy. He carries his melancholy like a cross, hanging on hunched shoulders and a slouched back. Hands in pockets, thumbs out. It is a portrait he paints of himself throughout the record.

He succeeds in aligning himself with his audience to gain the empathy of all ?with no solution but to love and to be loved,? as he sings in the album?s second track, ?Method Acting.?

The most appropriate description of the Conor and crew is displayed in the following track, ?False Advertising? which is reminiscent of Jeff Buckley?s ?Hallelujah.?  In this song, Conor chimes in somewhere between whimper and wail with ?Onto a stage, I was pushed, with my sorrow well rehearsed. So give me all your pity and your money. Now.?

Undoubtedly, he suffers from a prodigious case of a Christ complex and is making a living off of it. Oh, the irony.

?Lifted? is the third Bright Eyes album on a linear path in which the distance between point A and point B is rather short. In addition, Conor lends his musical ingenious to a slew of projects, including the now defunct bands Commander Venus, Park Ave, as well as the still-touring Desaparecidos.

The lineup of Bright Eyes seems to change with each song penned. The band is fronted by Conor?s acoustic (and occasional electric) guitar and nasal voice which, at points, comes close to a young Gordon Gano (Violent Femmes). Somewhere in the background noise is a cast of well-over thirty characters, including two choirs (one country, one drunk) and an orchestra.

Although Bright Eyes invariably comes off as Conor?s project, it is the entire ensemble of musicians that gives credibility to the album. The songs are very well structured and each note on the album is intentionally planned out, whether it is tight, or it sounds like a mistake. The choirs and orchestra round out the album and give it a very full sound. The best examples of this are ?False Advertising,? the white-boy hip-hop ?Lover I Don?t Have to Love,? ?Laura Laurent,? and the country tune ?Make War.?

On the whole, this album is much better than most of the music produced in 2002. The lyrics may be written with one too many tears in Conor?s eyes but the music more then outweighs this negative. The positives reign supreme as an overall observation.

Regardless of what any critic has to say, though, in the album?s final track ?Let?s Not Shit Ourselves,? Conor points out ?I do not read the reviews. No, I am not singing for you.? Hmmm. What could prompt a statement like that from someone who does not care about critique? A musician spurned by the press?

Well, don?t worry, buddy, there?s nothing too harsh here. Consider this a proverbial pat on the back.

muted

‘Ambient music can be the cold, undead genre of the music world. For all the effort put into deciphering a drum machine and keyboards, it can be too technical, too soulless. There is an excessive amount of effort involved for a product that seems predestined to sound like the soundtrack to an intense drama or sci-fi show. As may often be the intent, the music comes off as spooky.

The possibility of coming across a talent who can get around that barrier is slim when you consider the percentage of people who have abandoned traditional instruments in hopes that a laptop or a turntable can be their redeeming musical tools. Unfortunately, not every titanium-Mac-G4-laptop-wielding kid has latent musical talent. It just means that person probably has or comes from more money than the rest of us. So heed this advice: go buy some records instead of making them.

After such a lengthy diatribe, Alias’ case seems doomed. Not necessarily. This is just too subjective a matter and too new of a genre to be reviewed by a person who would trade a hi-fi, well-produced CD for a worn-out cassette tape any day.

In Alias’ defense, there is something inherently intelligible in his music. Albeit abstract, the thought behind “Muted”‘s compositions is evident. The textures are arguably not basic progressions run through multiple filters until something novel was produced. There are strict blueprints for each song.

Alias grew up a drummer affected at an early age by hip hop music. Being from Maine, hip hop was most likely hard to come by, but he made the effort to find and study it. As a result, he has earned the respect of some of the finest beat-makers in the industry, including The Roots, with whom he has toured, and The Notwist, who’s helping hand was lent during the creation of this album.

“Muted” is an album that, regardless of personal taste, commands respect. If for nothing else, it would make a pretty kick-ass soundtrack to the TV shows “Alias” or “24.”rn

Getting pretty deep

‘When you think of female musicians who can rock out more than most modern male rock stars, what names come to mind? No, not the trendy wonders of the late ’90s such as Alanis Morrisette or Jewel or Fiona Apple. We are talking someone who has been around long enough to have proved themselves worthy of the title “Queen of Rock & Roll.” We are talking Tanya Donelly here.

Tanya began to make a name for herself when she was sixteen. She was co-founder of the breakthrough rock group, Throwing Muses, along with her half sister Kristen Hersh. She put together the Breeders with Kim Deal. She saw Belly through their beginnings with hits like “Feed the Tree” and “Now They’ll Sleep” until their until their well intentioned yet premature end a few years ago. Now she is on her own way down the road of rock stardom all by herself. She has taken on a backing band and decided it was time to focus solely on her songs in her first solo release “Lovesongs for Underdogs.”

“Lovesongs for Underdogs” is a well written compilation of songs as diverse as the musicians who play on it. Tanya remained in full creative control of the writing of this album by her choices of who she was going to bring in for what part. From my own personal opinion, Rich Gilbert (Human Sexual Response/Zulus/Concussion Ensemble) was the best possible addition to compliment Tanya Donelly’s sound. His guitar work is very innovative and he adds everything from accordions to saws to her songs. When it comes to live shows too, what more can you say than we are talking about Tanya Donelly here. The woman just rocks. There are no two ways about it. Yes, she can be soft and mellow and make you feel comfortable in a slow paced arpeggiated tune but her overall stage presence is commanding.

“Pretty Deep,” the first single off of the album is a good representation of the overall work. The pace of the song is somewhere in between hard rock and soothing, and all of the instruments blend well together. The best song on the album, though, is “Lantern.” This song is the hardest, most dissonant song on the album, but it does also have its calm parts to it. When played live, though, it is on a level all its own. There is so much that could be said about Tanya Donelly in her past, present, and future exploits that it is hard to cover all of it. In a recent interview with Tanya, I tried to fill in some gaps and be brought up to date on her musical (and personal) whereabouts.

ME: How is life without Belly? I am sure that you are constantly being reminded of them. Does it bother you that people constantly scream “Feed the Tree” and “Geppetto” a concerts?

TANYA: Well, I don’t know. They are some of my best friends, and are part of my life anyway. So, it is not as if I am trying to erase them. I just ignore people when they say things like that at the shows.

ME: On recording “Lovesongs for Underdogs” you brought in whoever you wanted, whenever you wanted them. How did you decide who was best for what song? How did you decide who you would take as your touring band?

TANYA: I just kind of knew. Especially where the drummers were concerned, I knew who I wanted. David Narcisso was always my first choice, but was in the Muses. So, when the Muses broke up, I asked him to come on tour with me. Dean bassist, Juliana Hatfield Three) is my husband, so that was an obvious decision. Rich has been a friend of mine for years. Elizabeth (keyboardist, Count Zero) and I met through a mutual acquaintance. She is actually a music teacher and has done a lot of studio recording. God, that woman is a professional. I do not think that she has ever made a mistake in her life.

ME: Did your marriage to Dean Fisher influence your decision to record with him and take him on tour with you? Does your personal life play into your song writing?

TANYA: Yes, it did. He left Juliana Hatfield around the same time that Belly broke up. At first, we were trying to avoid working with each other because we thought it was just so corny. Then, we kind of realized that it was ideal for us to be in that situation. My personal life does play into our music but I am able to separate the two fairly well. I get inspired by real life events that may happen (between us) and I will just take it from there and embellish, embellish, and embellish.

ME: Your live show is much more powerful and commanding than your CD. Is that on purpose? Why does the mix seem lower on an album in comparison to how you can explode in concert?

TANYA: I think that it is natural. It just happens. It is one of the struggles of my life. I feel like I have never been fairly represented on tape. I am proud of everything that I have done, but I have never really gotten in the studio what I get on the stage.

ME: Star was written mainly by you, and King was more of a collaboration. Is there any connection between this and how it is said that you began to stifle each other around this point in time?

TANYA: No, I think the collaboration worked out really well. I am specifically fond of a lot of the songs that we did together. It would have worked out great if we had our act together enough to record another album. Working with other people stretches me into a different voice. The words that may come out some times are not words that would have come out otherwise.

ME: Did you leave the Breeders after “POD” and “Safari” because Sire would not let you have creative control over more than one band?

TANYA: Originally, the plan was for Kim to write the first album and I was to write the second one. That was in the very early stages of the band. Sire would not let me do much. I had just left the Throwing Muses, and Kim was still in the Pixies. I wanted to work on the band full time, but it ended up just being a side project for a while, so I left.

ME: Do you still talk to Kristin Hersh at all? Have you ever considered a reunion of Throwing Muses, even for just a couple songs?

TANYA: Chemistry changes in a band. I also wanted to do songs that the Muses was not in the right format for. Kristin and I always said ‘it’s just a band.’ Our hard-core fans were devastated, but it is just a band. I would like to do something with Kristin. Unfortunately, the Muses broke up so a reunion is not too likely, though.

ME: Catherine Wheel? How did you end up doing a song with them?

TANYA: Rob Dickinson and I met a festival about a year before we did the record and we hit it off. They came over to Boston and we just did the song (“Judy Staring at the Sun”). I love the band. They are dolls.

ME: How are you inspired to write your songs? For example, “Lantern” shifts a lot. How do you go about putting these pieces together?

TANYA: Well, Lantern was actually much more complicated than it came out. It was like pulling teeth to keep parts of the song in there. It was like a rock opera at one point. I get bored easily. I like to listen to things that shift around a lot. I am always looking for something that surprises the listener.rnME: At the concert, you said that “Pretty Deep” was about the potential of finding a dead body. What is the story behind that?

TANYA: I had a conversation with a woman at a party. We talked about how strange it would be to find dead guy on the beach. I took it from there and embellished, as I do with most of my music. From there, it became about how the world is full of bad images and voyeurism.

first ep

‘This can’t be Mock Orange. Is it Mock Orange? No, it can’t be.

But it is.

How can it be? It sounds so much like Matthew Sweet. No, no, Mock Orange, say it ain’t so.

There’s clapping on the album. Damn. Well, at least there’s no cowbell or tambourine. Maybe it’s low and the mix and I’m in denial, though.

Ryan, buddy, what happened to your voice? Have you been watching too much TRL recently? Oh, and those heavily distorted solos, where did they come from and why did you put them there?

The guys in the band seem to be a group of really nice people, which makes digging into the album difficult. Singer Ryan Grisham even lets us know that he “is generally a nice guy,” on “Crash and Die,” the second song of the EP.

The quality of this release is curious because they are, in fact, proficient musicians. The band’s two full-length albums, “Sixes and Nines” and “The Record Play,” are great albums. They have a mid-’90s Texas is the Reason, Mineral, American Football-sort of sound to them. It’s pre-Casket Lottery math rock arpeggio progressions – and Grisham’s voice is appealing, though nasal. Now, it is just nasal.

Then again, if the theory put forth by Emogame.com is accurate, Mock Orange, as with all other good emo bands, is destined to put out slew of bad music from here on out. The third album is always the demise of a good emo band, according to Emogame.com.

Musically, the band is as tight as always. There is just less complexity for the band to be tight around.

According to Deaddroid Records, the songs on this EP “are going to change the face of modern indie-rock.” Fearfully, that change may just be another nail in the coffin.

So consider this a plea, guys, to stick with the formula that worked for the first two albums. Both records were highly worthy of praise.

The new full-length, which is done and should be out very soon, is said to follow the pattern of the “First EP” and all fans of this EP will love the album. So, if you are a fan of it, by all means, pick up a copy of the album when it comes out.

The rest of us that are left in the dust for now will just have to wait and hope that our wish for the Mock Orange we know and love will be back soon.

will work for diapers

‘Whoa. This is Jeff Ott? The guy from super-activist punk rock band Fifteen? No way. I can’t believe it.

Sure the cover looks like it belongs to him. His daughter is proudly portrayed with a gun in one hand and a flower in the other with a T-shirt that says “I’m a Full-Time Job.” That’s typical Ott.

What happens once you put the CD in is not. It’s, umm, what the Barenaked Ladies would sing if they played the School of America’s Watch at Fort Benning every year.

CD highlight: song title “911 Is Still A Joke.” Nice Public Enemy reference.

The messages of public service, justice and goodwill still serve as the inspiration for Ott’s songwriting. It’s a noble cause. The medium in which he chooses to convey those messages though are a bit questionable. At the very least, it’s different. It’ll have you reeling for a while, trying to digest it all.