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When the author and essayist Gilbert Sorrentino passed away on May 18, it was a tragedy that didn't gather many headlines outside the literary community. There were few accolades or praise of the kind that followed the deaths of Douglas Adams or Hunter S. Thompson, or that will surely salute the death of Kurt Vonnegut.
In a world of hit or miss b-side collection albums, Pinback's Nautical Antiques is a long fly ball out—having decent moments but hardly having enough under it to get out of the park. Considering the band was formed as a side project back in 1998 from members of San Diego's Three Mile Pilot, it is not too far off to say that every single release from Pinback has already been of the b-side variety. But with Pinback's latest release, the duo of Armistead Burwell Smith IV and Rob Crow make a collection which is mediocrity at its best.
After leaving the most rewarding and promising boy band of the '90s—which truthfully isn't saying much—Justin Timberlake created a flawed debut album that nevertheless gifted us with four absolutely killer singles. More importantly, Justified established him as a legitimate musical force to be reckoned with. He took four years to give us a follow up, and while FutureSex/LoveSounds may not give us numerous blockbusters along the lines of ""Rock Your Body,"" it does show that Mr. JT is capable of moving forward.
It may be hard to believe that ""The Last Kiss"" flows through a different vein than ""Garden State,"" and it may be even harder to believe that Zach Braff can play anybody other than that dorky guy you met in your women's studies discussion, but with all due respect to the brilliance of Paul Haggis, believe.
Rainfall increased steadily from about 1 p.m. onward last Saturday, the day of the Crazy Legs 5-miler, Mifflin Street Block Party and Green Bay's drafting of former Buckeye A. J. Hawk. At the end of the Crazy Legs race, late in the morning, long after Tim Keller took home the title, participants who had walked or shuffled most of the way (seemingly a large percentage of the field) ran into the stadium toward the finish while the Badger varsity cheerleaders flung up you're No. 1\ hand signals.
Calexico's new album, Garden Ruin, is change of direction for the band. On this, their seventh album, the Southwestern rockers have finally lost their distinctive mariachi twang. Like Modest Mouse, Death Cab for Cutie and My Morning Jacket before them, they have distilled their sound in a bid for mainstream success. But unlike the aforementioned groups, they have not replaced their South-of-the-border sound with anything especially novel. The album just sounds kind of bland—like the exceedingly polite offspring of Yo La Tengo and a down-and-out Ryan Adams.
There can never be too much of a good thing, especially when it comes to food. With this philosophy in mind, I decided last week to abandon all nutritional recommendations and indulge in a diet of purely junk food. It was a week filled with ups and downs—a blood sugar roller coaster—which left me seeking solace in the Green Giant.
Everyone knows time travel is impossible—the only way to access it is through books or movies (if you didn't read the H.G. Wells classic you surely saw the movie with that dreamy Guy Pearce). However, Norwegian recording artist Sondre Lerche has invented his own time machine in the form of his new album, Duper Sessions, recorded with The Faces Down Quartet.
College can be a terrible time for your digestive system. Greasy food, gallons of beer and the odd beige torpedo from Chipotle does not a good diet make. Thankfully, anybody can gauge the health of their own plumbing by becoming more vigilant poopers.
This Valentine's Day, it's important to remember that love doesn't have to be just about chocolates and flowers. As these cinematic examples prove, sometimes it's about firearms, knives and the occasional arsenic cocktail. As they say, love makes you do crazy things.
Our mission to Iraq and Afghanistan has cost $357 billion over three years, according to a paper by Columbia Professor Joseph E. Stiglitz and Linda Bilmes, of Harvard's Kennedy School of Government. As Stiglitz and Bilmes show, we are currently spending $7.1 billion per month. In January, then, we spent approximately $229 million per day. On a finer level, the per capita cost means that each of us at the UW owes the Feds $1,200. In that light, we should ask ourselves three questions: What benefits have we seen from the war? Why has the cost been so high? And finally, has it been worth it to our republic? Sadly, the answers are as negative as the debt.
Things started out innocently enough'I'd just have one a day, no big problem. Then the cravings increased, suddenly one doubled to two per day, and I still wanted more. When I didn't have any, I'd feel antsy and awkward. At this point, I made a scary conclusion, like so many other brave men before me; I'd become addicted to string cheese.
With a Brit-pop sensibility that hearkens back to the late '90s and channels Blur with a dash of Oasis, local Madison band 8889's first full length album My Music Plan shows a healthy disregard for all trends indie and moves decidedly into the genre of smooth guitar pop. 8889 clearly demonstrates potential and the possession of songcraft building blocks necessary to become lasting musicians.
Biographies are hard to successfully transform into movies. They require an impeccable recreation of every relevant fact and an outstanding cast of actors capable of channeling the lives of their characters, both of which can be difficult. Biographies are indeed a challenge, yet Bennett Miller's 'Capote' triumphs.
Jessica Bartz, a UW Theater major, likes blood a lot. You may recognize the lovely Miss Bartz from an oft-aired commercial that ran over the summer which encouraged people to donate said bodily fluid. While she was shifty as to the exact uses for the blood, with her endorsement, we can rest assured that whether it is being bathed in to increase longevity or sipped by peckish vampires, it is being put to good use. Our veins are at your command, Jessica.
With the possible exception of Arcade Fire's Funeral, no debut album in 2004 received such an unabashedly positive critical response as Franz Ferdinand.
Over the past two months, the pages of this paper-and most others-have been graced by the judicious, boyish grin of John Roberts Jr. A mere 50-years young, Chief Justice Roberts will no longer be featured on the nation's front pages for he is now destined to the leafs of history. And, although aspiring attorneys will study the four days in 2005 when Roberts out-performed the nation's top acting troupe-the judiciary committee players??-those charming cheeks will soon fade into supreme oblivion, appearing only at regularly scheduled presidential inaugurations and awkward court photo opportunities.
Get out your striped off-the shoulder top, chunky accents and some eyeliner-if you have it. Stellastarr* hits a new wave artery with their sophomore album, Harmonies for the Haunted. Whether the album oozes with edge or is a hemorrhage of copy-cat tendencies is a worthy discussion. With its Cure-reminiscent ballads and full blown, unabashed homage to the best of '80s new wave, stellastarr* has a 21st century tenacity in a vein most recently tapped by such eyeliner favorites as The Killers.
With every passing year, it becomes more and more obvious that Hollywood needs a new one-man army. The heavyweights of the 80s and 90s have fizzled to some degree. Willis' straightforward action flicks after \Die Hard With a Vengeance"" are practically interchangeable, Stallone has only found time to mumble through some direct-to-video potboilers and reality TV and Schwarzenegger has his hands full governing California.
A man walks into a talent agency and tells the agent he has this great family act. The agent asks him to describe it; the man says \(the following passage has been excised from the review due to extreme vulgarity, repeated incest references, affronts to God and various other extremely dirty reasons)."" The agent responds ""And just what do you call this act?!?"" The man responds, ""The Aristocrats.""
Solutions by The State News
