The last time Josh Homme and Dave Grohl teamed up, they recorded Songs for the Deaf, arguably the most liberated work in Queens of the Stone Age’s catalog. Homme, a present-day authority on desert rock, and Grohl, a founding father of grunge, complemented each other’s unbridled self-indulgences to create a masochistic bravado that was both captivating and smothering.
When looking for music that brings to mind images of plaid flannel shirts, Samuel Beam-style facial hair and worn-down corduroy pants, look no further than Ola Podrida. With every solemn melody and subtle lyric, the group evokes such images. It’s likely, however, that when visualized, these images don’t seem all that unique.
The other day, I was passing my time in the Cardinal office by reading some old issues from a few years ago. Not just because I was curious as to what Mayor Dave’s favorite rock ’n’ roll album of all time was (a standard question for The Daily Cardinal when interviewing politicians), but also because I wanted to see what my predecessors wrote for film columns.
A bookcase holding my innumerable DVD box sets has a special shelf that should probably be labeled “The Boneyard.” It holds the complete series sets of “Dead Like Me,” “Freaks and Geeks” and “Undeclared,” to name a few of the remnants of once-great TV series cancelled before their time.
Gavin calls out “Chicken!” and plunges into the ocean hundreds of feet below. The Count mutters “I wish I weren’t so fat,” as he makes his way to the opposite point of the radio tower, quotes some lyrics and plunges in after him.
This should not be the first time you’ve read about Pitchfork and its indie influence. It has been making bands relevant since it became a daily in the late ’90s and coolly bashed the mainstream scene. For every pop music movement there is backlash, resentment and something of a countermovement.
It’s been an interesting journey for Mike Droho, starting in 2006 when he wrote and recorded a solo album and toured with only a computer as a backing band. In 2008 he wrote all of the musical parts before assembling an incredibly talented backing band and released new recordings.
I have to confess up front that I am an avid proponent of zombies. Their insatiable hunger for human flesh, their incessant moaning, their rabid rate of reproduction, their utter disregard for both life and death, I soak it up. They’re the ultimate villains: mindless assassins who are completely content just to smash stuff up.
The big winner in the box office this past week was Robert Zemeckis’ update of Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol,” a film that has already been made countless times. Once again, Zemeckis decided to experiment with motion capture animation, in which the actors do their scenes in front of green screens, and then animated versions of them are placed into animated backgrounds.
‘Goats’ provide loose yet satisfying political narrative
Political satires have a tendency to be misleading. Often they lure unsuspecting audiences in with the promise of a few good yuks and then beat them repeatedly over the head with an agenda-laden mallet, ultimately weighing them down with a humor too dark to be truly enjoyed.
The search for interesting reads can be tough. Lately, I’ve found myself in a bit of a reading funk, as the only amiably priced literature I’ve seen recently includes a 900-page Charles Dickens novel and a book picturing a windblown Fabio alongside a swooning woman by the grocery store checkout counter.
The rock ’n’ roll scriptures have told of the artists’ backstage as a magical place—a mythical landscape of long-legged bombshell groupies where rail liquor is laughed at and personal caterers lay out feasts for the greater good of Mick Jagger.
So last week’s decrying of Lil Jon was fun, but a ranting column like that is not very productive without alternatives and guidance, so running it concerned me and got me thinking. What is a recently productive listen to match and counter Lil Jon’s unproductivity? What can unite as many people while being personally, socially and artistically gratifying/appealing? The Black Album? Even after watching “Fade to Black” and seeing the impressive way Jay-Z works, it is not the artistically stirring answer I’m looking for.
Listening to Wale’s mixtapes can be enigmatic. At times, you’re asking yourself why you spend your time listening to an oft-monotonous delivery lacking in hooks, and at times you’re blown away by his relentless barrage of rhymes and asking yourself why he can’t do more with such obvious talent.
